Dancing Shoes

by Noel Streatfeild

  “My goodness, Rachel, I do like your hair done like that.”

  “Look at Rachel. It ought to be you, not Hilary, who’s good at ballet, because you look like a ballet dancer.”

  “Fancy,” said one of the matrons, “I wouldn’t have thought just pinning up plaits could make such a difference. You’ll be a very distinguished-looking Wonder when the time comes, Rachel.”

  These compliments made Rachel embarrassed and self-conscious, so she went back to her chalet after breakfast, meaning to let her plaits loose again before Aunt Cora saw her. But Hilary would not let her touch her hair.

  “Let her see you. She’s always so sneery to you, and so proud of Dulcie-Pulsie, it’ll do her good to see you can look pretty too.”

  As it happened Aunt Cora, when Rachel met her, was so full of a plan for Dulcie that she never glanced at Rachel but hurried past her into Pursey’s chalet. “On Saturday week there’s a talent competition, Pursey. I am entering Dulcie for it. Now I want you to make her something pretty to wear.”

  “If there’s a talent competition,” said Pursey, “why not enter Hilary too? Nice advertisement if we could walk off with two prizes.”

  Mrs. Wintle had thought somebody might suggest that, and was ready with an answer. “No, Hilary hasn’t learned long enough with me. As I’m always telling you, Pursey, it’s easy to strain a child if she works too hard before she’s got into my ways. Now about Dulcie’s dress. I thought a crimson taffeta can-can frock, with rows of little frills inside the skirt, would be sweet on her.”

  After Mrs. Wintle had gone, Pursey, muttering to herself at the thought of all the work there was in a can-can frock, sent Rachel to fetch Dulcie to be measured.

  “A pity, though,” she said, “that I’m not telling you to fetch Hilary too. To my mind she’s got as good a chance in a talent contest as Dulcie has.”

  Rachel was just moving when Pursey said that; it stopped her dead. “Oh, Pursey, darling angel Pursey, please, please don’t say that to anyone but me. Hilary mustn’t do high kicks in a can-can dress, truly she mustn’t.”

  Pursey shook her head. “You are a funny one, always on about Hilary’s dancing. But don’t worry, she’s not wearing a can-can dress nor anything else, for your auntie won’t let her enter for the competition, so that’s that.”

  But it was not that, for Mrs. Wintle had not reckoned on her Wonders. It all started when they and Hilary, after practicing their acrobatics, were standing round a show case in which were displayed the prizes for the talent competition. The first prize for the girls was a gold wrist watch.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” one of the Wonders said. “Whoever wins it will be ever so lucky.”

  Hilary thought a gold wrist watch was the grandest possession a child could have. “It’ll be Dulcie.”

  “Dulcie!” said all the Wonders. “Is she going in for it?”

  Hilary had heard from Rachel about the can-can dress, so she told the Wonders what she knew. “And she’s so terribly good no one here could beat her, and the awful thing is she’s already got one wrist watch.”

  The idea struck all the Wonders at once.

  “I know someone who could beat her,” said the troupe leader, who was called Poppy, “it’s you.”

  Hilary gasped. “Me! But I’m not entered, and I’ve nothing to wear.”

  “I’ll see to that,” said Poppy. “And we’ll all rehearse you and rehearse you until you drop. But it’s a secret, mind. We must all swear not to tell anybody.”

  Each of the Wonders and Hilary raised a hand. “I swear on my awkward-Adas.”

  “Oh goodness,” said Poppy when the swearing was over, “if only you could win, Hilary. I think if I could see you beat Dulcie-Pulsie I would be happy forever and ever.”

  CHAPTER 14

  The Talent Contest

  The talent contest took three days. The grand finale was to be at six o’clock on a Saturday evening in front of all the campers, when the finalists in each class would perform. There had been two or three talent competitions for children, so the Wonders knew just how they worked, though of course they themselves could not enter as they were professionals. Because several of the entrants might share the same surname every child was given a number, and it was by their numbers they were called when it was their turn to perform.

  The Wonders knew the woman who ran the competitions, so Poppy went to her and entered Hilary. The woman wrote down Hilary Lennox, aged ten, and told Poppy her friend would be number forty-seven. It did not strike her as odd that Hilary had been entered by Poppy, for she had asked all the Wonders to keep an eye open for talent in the camp. In any case, it was quite usual for parents, aunts, or friends to enter children.

  Once Hilary had become number forty-seven the question was what she was to do and where was she to rehearse.

  “If you’re to beat Dulcie,” Poppy said, “you ought to dance on your pointes, for she’s better than you at other sorts of dancing.”

  Hilary turned a cartwheel. “I know, and for that gorgeous watch I’d even do that. But I haven’t my shoes with me, and if I had I don’t know a dance to do, and I couldn’t make one up.”

  Poppy turned to the other Wonders for suggestions. “Any ideas?”

  It was the understudy, Alice, who answered. She was a clever child, the best dancer in the troupe, but she was tall, and to be tall was a fatal fault in a Wonder. At best it made you a permanent understudy, at worst it meant Mrs. Wintle ceased to employ you. “As Hilary can’t dance on her pointes her only hope of beating Dulcie is to be funny.”

  “What sort of funny?” asked Hilary.

  “Just what you always do when you’re talking about Dulcie.” She turned to the Wonders. “You know what I mean.”

  “But Mrs. Wintle will be there,” said Poppy. “Hilary couldn’t be Dulcie in front of her.”

  “But she needn’t be Dulcie,” Alice explained. “She could be just any awful child.”

  Hilary saw what Alice meant and was charmed by her idea. “I’ll do a Dulcie day. Her getting up, doing lessons, going for a walk, eating, and going to bed. It’ll be a very primsy sort of dance, like Dulcie is, but I’ll do cartwheels and walking on my hands as well because I like those.”

  Poppy looked worried. “What on earth shall she wear?”

  Alice was still full of ideas. “Why not one of our uniform frocks? Our mothers pay for those, so no one can say we shouldn’t lend them.”

  Hilary was enchanted. “One of those little-girl frocks? It’ll be exactly right. Has anyone got a clean one they could lend?”

  Alice pointed to the smallest Wonder. “She must wear yours, Betty. It ought to fit, but if it needs altering I’ll do it while you’re all on the stage.”

  “But what,” said Poppy, “will she do about music?”

  Alice had even thought of that. “Mr. Pinkerton. He’s awfully nice. I bet he’d help.”

  Pinkie Pinkerton conducted the theater orchestra. He had just finished running through a new song when he saw the Wonders sitting at the back of the theater. “Hullo, kiddies,” he called out. “Mrs. W. taking another rehearsal this morning?”

  Poppy left her seat and joined him. “No. But could you possibly spare us a few minutes? We want your help.”

  Pinkie Pinkerton was a good-natured man, with children of his own. He dismissed his band and went to the back of the theater and joined the Wonders. “Now what is it? What mess have you got yourselves into?”

  Pinkie Pinkerton saw no reason why Hilary should not enter for the talent competition. And if she wanted to keep it secret that she was entering he saw no reason why she should not. As well, when he saw the sort of number Hilary was planning to do, he found it rather fun arranging her music. He linked together old nursery rhyme tunes, starting with “Girls and Boys Come Out to Play” and finishing with “Rockaby Baby,”
but he jazzed them up or, as Hilary said, made them Dulcie-ish.

  But even with all this arranged, getting Hilary ready by the following Thursday to take part in the first round of the contest was terribly difficult. Pinkie Pinkerton could not have been kinder, but proper rehearsals were so hard to arrange. To begin with the Wonders were not allowed in the theater without a matron, and they would have got into trouble if they had been caught asking Mr. Pinkerton to help. Then it was difficult to have a rehearsal on the stage without anyone noticing it was going on. But on Sunday night, after the camp evening service at which his band had been playing, Pinkie Pinkerton found some of the Wonders and told them he thought he had everything fixed. Nobody used the ballroom at seven in the morning except cleaners, and they wouldn’t talk. So if the Wonders could get a matron to bring Hilary along then she could get a good hour’s rehearsal undisturbed.

  When Hilary heard the news she knew at once who would help her. Before she went to bed that night she slipped into Pursey’s chalet. “Pursey angel, I want your help, but you must swear not to tell anybody, especially Rachel.”

  Pursey heard what was planned in silence. Then, when Hilary had finished telling her, she gave one of her warm purry Pursey-ish chuckles. “Bless the child, whatever will you and the Wonders think of next! Still, I was always an early riser, so I reckon seven in the morning won’t hurt me for a day or two.” Then she paused, and slowly a worried look came on her face. “But I don’t like deceit. I wish you could tell your auntie what’s planned, but I can see you can’t. But couldn’t you let Rachel know? You’re her sister in a manner of speaking and she’s ever so fond of you.”

  Pursey was sitting on her bed, and Hilary in one jump was kneeling beside her. “Silly, silly Pursey. Of course Rachel’s fond of me, just as I’m fondest of her of anybody in the world. But she’s so odd about the sort of dancing I’m going to do. She thinks I ought to do nothing but ballet.”

  Pursey put an arm round Hilary. “I know, dear, and I suppose she has her reasons, but I must say I’ve never understood what they are. It’s just that I never have liked anything underhanded among my children.”

  Hilary hugged Pursey. “It isn’t underhanded really, it’s just that Rachel doesn’t know about dancing. So you will come at seven, won’t you, Pursey? Promise?”

  Pursey kissed her good night. “I promise. Now run off to bed or you’ll never be fit to dance at seven in the morning. And no lies to Rachel, mind. Tell her the truth, that you’re getting up early to dance with the Wonders.”

  “I’ll call it playing with the Wonders,” said Hilary. “I never talk dancing to Rachel. Good night, Pursey, you’re an angel.”

  When the talent contest started on Thursday the children who were taking part were called in groups to the theater. Poppy had figured out that the chance of Hilary and Dulcie being called at the same time was so unlikely that they need not worry about it. She was quite right, for Dulcie was called on Thursday morning and Hilary on Friday afternoon. For the finals there were to be outside judges, but for the preliminary rounds the professional dancers who taught ballroom dancing to the campers and the producer of the camp show were the judges. Mrs. Wintle would have been asked to join them but, of course, as Dulcie was competing, she could not. The Wonders had early news of the time at which Dulcie would dance.

  “You’re all to be in the theater at ten sharp tomorrow morning,” said the head matron after the Wednesday matinée. “Dulcie is doing a dance in the talent contest, and Mrs. Wintle thinks you should watch her.” The Wonders made noises as if they were being sick, for which the matron had to scold them. “That’s enough of that. She’s a very clever little dancer, and you can all learn something from watching her.”

  The maddening thing was that it was perfectly true Dulcie was a clever dancer and that the Wonders could all learn something from watching her. She looked charming in her can-can dress and sailed through her contest with almost full marks.

  “What a delicious child,” the Wonders heard the female ballroom dancer say. “I can’t imagine anyone will beat her.”

  Gloomily the Wonders left the theater. They went to look for Hilary, who with Rachel had also been ordered to be in the theater. They had to wait until they could get her away from Pursey and Rachel, then they gathered around her in a huddle.

  “You’ve a lot up against you,” said Poppy.

  “She’s very finished,” Alice pointed out, “and she’s dancing a dance arranged by Mrs. W., so it’s a showy routine.”

  “I’m afraid we’ve got to face it,” Poppy added. “Your chances are bad. What I think you’d better do is to go to bed about six so you won’t be tired, then go to the ballroom at six tomorrow morning so we can give you an extra hour before the proper run-through with Mr. Pinkerton at seven.”

  Hilary raised her chin in the air and stepped out of the huddle of Wonders. “I won’t go to bed at six, and I won’t do an hour’s practice before my run-through with Mr. Pinkerton. I know the routine and if the judges don’t like my dance, they don’t.” She beamed at the Wonders. “The worst thing that can happen is that Dulcie-Pulsie has two gold watches, and though it’s a sickening thought we won’t die of it.”

  As Hilary skipped off towards her chalet Alice said: “Hilary’s clever but I doubt if she’ll ever do much. I think you have to care more than she does to be a success.”

  But the next afternoon, watching Hilary, Alice wondered if she had been wrong. There was no doubt Hilary enjoyed the sort of dancing the Wonders learned. There was no doubt either she thought it fun imitating Dulcie. From her first entrance, mincing on conceitedly to “Girls and Boys Come Out to Play,” to the amusing end where she turned cartwheels in a rather grand way before pretending to step into bed, she charmed the judges.

  “Quite a card, that kiddie,” said the producer of the show. “I must keep a note of her name, if she turns pro. I might use her.”

  The female professional dancer turned to the male professional dancer. “Ever so neat a little dancer, didn’t you think, Freddie? And unless I’m much mistaken ballet trained.”

  Freddie nodded. “You couldn’t be more right.”

  “Well,” said the producer, “what marks?”

  Because there were points given for originality, and all three judges gave Hilary full marks for it, her marks were nearly as high as Dulcie’s had been. The producer stood up.

  “Congratulations, my dear. Watch the board to see what time you dance on Saturday for the finals.”

  CHAPTER 15

  The Finals

  The theater was crowded for the finals on Saturday and the judges had a horrible job. There were five of them: a professional woman singer, a man and woman who were leading amateur pair dancers, a film starlet, and a man from a television panel game.

  The Wonders took Hilary to the theater early and dressed her in their dressing room.

  “It’s absolutely certain Dulcie won’t come up here,” Poppy explained, “but most of the others will. Ordinarily they use our dressing room and the chorus dressing room for these competitions, so as not to mess up the principals’ rooms for the night’s show. But I bet Dulcie gets put in a principal’s room.”

  “Turn around,” said Alice after she had fastened Hilary’s frock; she stood away from her. “Of course we’re so used to the frocks we can’t think of anyone looking nice in them, but I must say you don’t look bad, considering.”

  Hilary was enchanted with Betty’s little-girl frock, for she felt like a real Wonder wearing it.

  “Turn a cartwheel,” said Poppy, “so we can see how you look underneath.”

  Under their uniforms the Wonders wore plain matching knickers, but for this special occasion something frilly had been thought right. So one of the Wonders had lent frilly lace-edged nylon knickers and a matching petticoat.

  As Hilary turned a cartwheel only a froth of l
ace and frills showed. The Wonders watched her with professional approval.

  “Couldn’t be better,” said Alice. “I always say there’s nothing to touch lace if you’re working upside down.”

  There were fifteen finalists from whom the judges had to choose a winning girl, a winning boy, and either a winning pair or second prizes for a boy and a girl. As well, there were to be small prizes for all the finalists. The talent varied. There was a boy conjurer, a girl who sang a comic song dressed as a boy, a boy who sang “I’ll Walk Beside You” and another who sang “We’ll Gather Lilacs,” and several dancing pairs, as well as solo dancers. Before the contest started the camp manager explained how the judging would be arranged. For each turn the five judges would be given cards with the contestants’ numbers on them. They would then give marks up to ten, as they saw fit for each performer or pair of performers.

  “You see,” the manager said, “that way it doesn’t matter whether it’s a singer, a dancer, or a conjurer they’re marking. All the judges have to decide is how good each kiddie is at their speciality. Now, if everybody’s ready we’ll start.”

  The Wonders, sitting at the back of the theater, had their own marking system.

  “ ‘We’ll Gather Lilacs’ won’t be in the first three,” said Alice. “His voice cracked.”

  “Nor will the conjurer,” said Poppy. “Everybody must have seen he had a card at the back of his hand.”

  Over the dancers the Wonders exchanged glances and turned down their thumbs, for none of the dancers came up to Dulcie or Hilary’s standard.

  Between turns Alice stood up and studied the audience. “Mrs. W.’s in the second row with Pursey. I can’t see Rachel.”

  The other Wonders also stood up.