“What about that? That’s my spare, that is—the war took the other in Burma. Do you think it worries me? Not a bit of it. You’d be surprised what I can do with me old spare. I reckon I get around more with one whole leg and one spare than most do with two whole legs. Don’t you lose ’eart in yours; time we’ve had you on the rink a week or two you’ll have forgotten they ever felt shaky. Proper little skater’s legs they’ll be.”
“Like Lalla Moore’s?” Harriet asked.
Sam looked surprised. “Know her?”
“No, but Mr. Matthews showed her to us. He said she’d been skating since she was three. He said she used to come in a perambulator.”
Sam turned as if to go into his shop, then he stopped.
“So she did, too. Had proper little shoes made for her and all. I often wonder what her Dad would say if he could come back and see what they were doing to his kid. Cyril Moore he was—one of the best figure skaters, and one of the nicest men I ever set eyes on. Well, mustn’t stay gossiping here, you want to get on the ice.”
“Mummy, isn’t he nice?” Harriet whispered. “I should think he’s a knowing man about legs, wouldn’t you? He ought to know about them, having had to get used to having one instead of two.”
The shoes that Sam found were new, and had skates attached. He explained that new shoes were stiffer and therefore would be a better support for Harriet’s thin ankles. Sam seemed so proud of having found her a pair of shoes that were new and a fairly good fit that Harriet tried to pretend she thought they were lovely. Actually she thought they were awful. Lalla Moore’s beautiful white skating shoes had made Harriet hope she was going to wear white shoes too, but the ones Sam put on her were a nasty shade of brown, with a band of green painted round the edge of the soles. Sam was not deceived by her trying to look pleased.
“ ’Ired shoes is all right, but nobody can’t say they’re oil paintings. If you want them stylish white ones you’ll have to buy your own. We buy for hard wear—you’d be surprised the time we make our shoes last. Besides, nobody can’t make off with these.”
Olivia looked puzzled. “Does anyone want to?”
“You’d be surprised, but they don’t get away with it. If Harriet here was to walk out with these someone would spot the green paint and be after her quicker than you could say winkle.”
Olivia laughed. “I can’t see Harriet walking out in these. I’m going to have a job to get her to the rink.”
Sam finished lacing Harriet’s skates. He gave the right one an affectionate pat.
“Too right you will. I wasn’t speaking personal, I was just explaining why the shoes look the way they do.” He got up. “Good luck, duckie, enjoy yourself.”
If Olivia had not been there to hold her up, Harriet would never have reached the rink. Her feet rolled over first to the right, and then to the left. She clung to Olivia, and then lurched over and clung to a wall. When she came to some stairs that led to the rink it seemed to her as if she would be killed trying to get down them. The skates had behaved badly on the flat floor, but walking downstairs they behaved as if they had gone mad. She reached the bottom by gripping the stair rail with both hands while Olivia held her round her waist, lifting her so that her skates hardly touched the stairs. Olivia was breathless but triumphant when they got to the edge of the rink.
“Off you go now! I’ll sit here and get my breath back.”
Harriet gazed in horror at the ice. The creepers and crawlers who were beginners like herself clung so desperately to the barrier that she could not see much room to get in between them. Another thing was that even if she could find a space, it was almost certain that one of the creepers and crawlers in front or behind her would choose that moment to fall over and knock her down at the same time. As a final terror, between the grand skaters in the middle of the rink and the creepers and crawlers round the edge, there were rough people. They seemed to go round and round like express trains, their chins stuck forward, their hands behind their backs, with apparently no other object than to see how fast they could go, and they did not seem to mind whom they knocked over as they went.
Gripping both sides of an opening in the barrier, Harriet put one foot towards the ice and hurriedly took it back. This happened five times.
Olivia was sympathetic but firm. “I’m sorry, darling, I’d be scared stiff myself, but it’s no good wasting all the afternoon holding onto the barrier and never getting on the ice. Be brave and take the plunge.”
Harriet looked as desperate as she felt. “Do you think I’d feel braver if I shut my eyes?”
“No, darling, I think that would be fatal. Someone would be bound to knock you down.”
It was at that moment that Olivia felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned round. Behind her sat an elderly lady in a bulgy gray suit. On her head she wore a neat black straw hat, and she was knitting a white woolen sweater.
“If you’ll wait a moment, ma’am, I’ll signal to my little girl. She’ll take her onto the ice for you.”
“Isn’t that kind!” said Olivia. “Which is your little girl?”
The lady stood up. Standing up she was even bulgier than she had been when she was sitting down. She waved her knitting.
“She’s not mine really. I’m her nurse.”
From the center of the ring the waving was answered. Harriet nudged her mother.
“Lalla Moore!”
Lalla cared nothing for people who went round pretending they were express trains, or for creepers and crawlers. She came flying across the rink as if she were running across an empty field.
“What is it, Nana?” she asked.
“This little girl, dear.” Nana turned to Harriet. “You haven’t been on the ice before, have you, dear?”
Harriet was gazing at Lalla. “No, and I don’t really want to now. The doctor says I’ve got to. It’s to stop my legs from feeling like cotton wool.”
Nana looked at Harriet’s legs with an I-thought-as-much expression.
“Take her carefully, Lalla, and don’t let her fall.”
Lalla took hold of Harriet’s hands. She moved backwards. Suddenly Harriet found she was on the ice.
“You’ll have to try and straighten your legs a little, because then I can tow you,” Lalla told her.
Harriet’s knees and ankles hadn’t been very good at standing straight on an ordinary floor since she had been ill, and in skates it was even more difficult. But Lalla had been skating for so long she could not see anything difficult about standing up on skates, and because of that Harriet began to believe it could not be as hard as it looked. Presently Lalla, skating backwards, had towed her into the center of the rink.
“There, now I’ll show you how to start. Spread your feet apart.” With great difficulty Harriet got her feet into the position that Lalla wanted. “Now lift them up. First your right foot. Put it down on the ice. Now your left foot. Put it down.”
Nana, having asked Olivia’s permission to do so, had moved into the seat next to her. First of all they discussed Harriet’s illness and her leg muscles. Then Olivia said:
“Mr. Matthews pointed out your child to us. I hear she’s been skating since she was a baby; you used to push her here in a perambulator, didn’t you?”
Nana laid her knitting in her lap. She could tell from Olivia’s tone that she thought it odd teaching a baby to skate.
“So I did too, and I didn’t like it. I never have held with fancy upbringing for my children, and I never will.
“But her father was a great skater, wasn’t he?”
“He was Cyril Moore. And maybe your father was a great preacher, ma’am, but that isn’t to say you want to spend all your life preaching.”
Olivia laughed. “My father has a citrus estate in South Africa, and I’ve certainly never wanted to spend my life growing oranges and lemons.”
; “Nor would her father have wanted skating for Lalla as a baby. Bless him, he was a lovely gentleman and so was her mother a lovely lady.”
“What happened to them?” Olivia asked.
“Well, he was the kind of gentleman that must always be doing something dangerous. He only had to see a board up saying ‘Don’t skate, danger’ and he was on the ice in a minute. That’s how he went, and poor Mrs. Moore with him. Seems he was on a pond; they say there was a warning out the ice wouldn’t bear, but anyway they both popped through it, and were never seen alive again.”
“Oh dear, what a sad story. And who is bringing little Lalla up?”
Nana’s voice took on a reserved tone. “Her Aunt Claudia, her father’s only sister.”
“And she was the one who decided to make a skater of her?”
“It’s a memorial, so she says. Lalla wasn’t two years old the winter her parents popped through that thin ice. I’ll never forget it. Her Aunt Claudia moved into the house, and the very first thing she did was to have a glass case made for the skates Lalla’s father was drowned in. She put it up over my blessed lamb’s cot. ‘With all respect, ma’am,’ I said, ‘I don’t think it’s wholesome. We don’t want her growing up to brood on what’s happened.’ And do you know what she said? ‘He’s to live again in Lalla, Nana. He was a wonderful skater, but Lalla is to be the greatest skater in the world.’ ”
Olivia, enthralled with the story, had forgotten about Harriet. She turned now to look at the two children.
“I don’t know whether she’s going to be the greatest skater in the world, but she certainly seems to be a wonderful teacher. Look at my Harriet.”
Nana was silent a moment watching the two children. Then, “We’ll call them back in a minute. Harriet shouldn’t be at it too long, not the first time. They say Lalla’s coming on wonderfully. She’s got her bronze medal, you know, and she won’t be ten for six months.”
Olivia had no idea what a bronze medal was for but she could tell from Nana’s tone it was something important.
“Isn’t that splendid!”
“It’s a funny life for a child, and not what I expect in my nurseries. She has to do so much time on the ice every day that she can’t go to school or anything like that. Governesses and tutors she has, as well as being coached here every day, of course, by Mr. Lindblom.”
“It must cost a terrible lot of money.”
“Well, what with the money her parents left her, and her Aunt Claudia marrying a rich man, there’s enough.”
“She has an uncle, has she?” asked Olivia.
Nana was knitting again; she smiled at the wool in a pleased way. “Yes, indeed. Her Uncle David. Mr. David King he is, and as nice a gentleman as you could wish to find. I couldn’t ask for better.”
Olivia was glad to hear that Lalla had a nice uncle because somehow, from the tone of Nana’s voice, she was not certain she would like Lalla’s Aunt Claudia. However, it was not fair to make up her mind about somebody she had never met, and anyway probably Lalla enjoyed the skating.
“I expect the skating’s fun for her, even if she has to miss school and have governesses and tutors because of it.”
“She enjoys it well enough, bless her, I’m not saying she doesn’t; but it’s not what I would choose, in a manner of speaking.” Nana got up. “I’m going to signal the children to come off the ice, for if you don’t mind my mentioning it, your little Harriet has done more than enough for the time being. She’d better sit down, beside me and have a sweet the same as I give my Lalla.”
The moment she sat down Harriet found her legs were much more wobbly than they had been before. They felt so tired she did not know where to put them, and kept wriggling about. Nana noticed this.
“You’ll get used to it, dearie. Everybody’s legs get tired at first.”
Olivia looked anxiously at Harriet. “Perhaps that had better be all for today, darling.”
Harriet was shocked at the suggestion. “Mummy! Two whole shillings’ worth of hired skates used up in a quarter of an hour! We couldn’t, we simply couldn’t.”
“It can’t be helped if you’re tired, darling. It’s better to waste part of the two shillings than to wear the poor legs out altogether.” Olivia turned to Nana. “I’m sure you agree with me.”
Nana had a cozy way of speaking, which sounded as if while she was about nothing could ever go very wrong.
“That’s right, ma’am. More haste less speed, so I’ve always said in my nurseries.” She smiled at Harriet. “You sit down and have another sweet and presently Lalla will take you on the ice for another five minutes. That’ll be enough for the first day.”
Lalla looked pleadingly at Nana. “Could I, oh could I stay and talk to Harriet, Nana?”
Nana looked up from her knitting. “It’ll mean making the time up afterwards. You know Mr. Lindblom said you was to work at your eight-foot one.”
Lalla laughed. “One-foot eight, Nana.” She turned to Harriet. “Nana never gets the names of the figures right.”
Nana was quite unmoved by this criticism. “Nor any reason why I should, never having taken up ice skating nor having had the wish.”
“Harriet would never have taken up ice skating, not had the wish either,” said Olivia, “if it hadn’t been for her legs. I believe two of my sons came here once, but that’s as near as the Johnsons have ever got to skating.”
Lalla was staring at Olivia with round eyes. “Two of your sons! Has Harriet got brothers?” Harriet explained about Alec, Toby and Edward, and Lalla sighed with envy. “Lucky, lucky you. Three brothers! Imagine, Nana! I’d rather have three brothers than anything else in the world.”
Nana turned her knitting round and started another row. “No good wishing. If you were to have three brothers, you’d have to do without a lot of things you take for granted now.”
“I wouldn’t mind. I wouldn’t mind anything. You know, Harriet, it’s simply awful being only one. There’s nobody to play with.”
Olivia felt sorry for Lalla. “Perhaps, Nana, you would bring her to the house sometime to play with Harriet and the boys. It isn’t a big house, and there are a lot of us in it, but we’d love to have her and you too, of course.”
“Bigness isn’t everything,” said Nana. “Some day, if the time could be made, it would be a great treat.”
Harriet looked with respect at Lalla. Even when she had gone to school she had always had time to do things. She could not imagine a life when you had to make time to go out to tea. Lalla saw Harriet’s expression and explained:
“It’s awful how little time I get. I do lessons in the morning, then there is a special class for dancing or fencing. Then, directly after lunch, we come here—and with my lesson and the things I have to practice, I’m always here two hours and sometimes three. By the time I get home and have had tea it’s almost bedtime.”
Olivia thought this a very sad description of the day for someone who was not yet ten.
“There must be time for a game or something before bedtime, isn’t there? Don’t you play games with your aunt?”
Lalla looked surprised at the question. “Oh no, she doesn’t play my sort of games. She goes out and plays bridge and things like that. When I see her we talk about skating, nothing else.”
“She’s very interested in how Lalla’s getting on,” Nana explained. “But Lalla and I have a nice time before she goes to bed, don’t we, dear? Sometimes we listen to the wireless, and sometimes, when Uncle David and Aunt Claudia are out, we go downstairs and look at that television.”
Olivia tried to think of something to say, but she couldn’t. It seemed to her a miserable description of Lalla’s evenings. Nana was a darling, but how much more fun it would be for Lalla if she could have somebody of her own age to play with. She was saved answering by Lalla.
“Are your legs better en
ough now to come on the rink, Harriet?”
Harriet stretched out first one leg and then the other to see how wobbly they were. They were still a bit feeble, but she was not going to disgrace herself in front of Lalla by saying so. She tottered up onto her skates. Lalla held out her hands. “I’ll take you to the middle of the rink, but this time you’ll have to lift up your feet by yourself—I’m not going to hold you. Don’t mind if you fall down. It doesn’t hurt much.”
Olivia watched Harriet’s unsteady progress to the middle of the rink.
“How lucky for her that she met Lalla! It would have taken her weeks to have got a few inches round the edge by herself. She’s terrified, poor child, but she won’t dare show it in front of Lalla.”
Nana went on knitting busily. Her voice showed that she was not quite sure she ought to say what she was saying. “When I get the chance I’ll have a word with Mrs. King about Harriet, or maybe with Mr. King. He’s the one for seeing things reasonably. It would be a wonderful thing for Lalla if you would allow Harriet to come back to tea sometimes after the skating. It would be such a treat for her to have someone to play with.”
“Harriet would love it, but I am afraid it is out of the question for some time yet. I’m afraid coming here and walking home will be about all she can manage. The extra walk to and from your house would be too much for her at present,” Olivia replied.
“There wouldn’t be any walking. We’d send her home in the car. Mrs. King drives her own nearly always, and Mr. King his own, so the chauffeur’s got nothing to do except drive Lalla about in the little car.”
Olivia laughed. “How very grand! I’m afraid I’ll never be able to ask you to our house. Three cars and a chauffeur! I’m certain Mrs. King would have a fit if she saw how we lived.”
“Lot of foolishness. Harriet’s a nice little girl, and just the friend for Lalla. You leave it to me. Mrs. King has her days, and I’ll pick a good one before I speak of Harriet to her or Mr. King.”
Walking home, Olivia asked Harriet how she had enjoyed skating. She noticed with happiness that Harriet was looking less like a daddy-longlegs than she had since her illness started.
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