The Small Rain
Page 13
“She’s always on the rampage about something or other,” Sarah said.
“You’re going to the cinema tonight, aren’t you?” Sheila combed her hair. She picked up Sarah’s hairbrush. “I never brush my hair. “It’s very bad for a permanent to brush it. I need a new perm.”
“If you have another permanent, your hair’s going up in smoke,” Sarah said.
Sheila combed away, unperturbed. “Are you going to the cinema?”
Sarah took her brush and put it back on her bureau. “I am. Kat’s going over to Justin’s studio to practice.”
“Oh, Kat, don’t be a dreep. Come along.”
“Unh-unh.”
“Has Justin said anything to you about his going away?”
Katherine jumped up. “No! What? He’s going away? Who told you?”
“I don’t know. I think it was Ginny, maybe. I thought maybe he might have said something to you, seeing you’re such a pet of his.”
“What did Ginny say?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Kat. Something about he mightn’t come back after the Easter hols. My Cow! Don’t get so excited.”
“Sarah, I’ve got to find out.”
“Wait just a few minutes, Kat,” Sarah said. “You promised you’d behave.”
“I can’t. I’ve just got to find out about Justin. If Halsey comes, tell her I’m in the john and I’ll be right back.” She ran out and downstairs to the common room. Ginny was at the gramophone, listening to the eternal Good Night, Sweetheart. Katherine grabbed her by the arm. “Ginny, Sheila said you said something about Monsieur Vigneras’ leaving.” Even in her excitement she was careful never to call him Justin, except to herself or when she was talking to Sarah.
“Well, I don’t know, Kat. I thought I heard Val saying something about his going to Paris after the hols, but I’m not sure.”
“If there’s anything to it,” Pen Deerenforth turned toward them, “he’ll probably tell you himself, anyhow, so don’t get all upset. Don’t you have a lesson Monday? Ask him yourself, then.”
“Thanks,” Katherine gasped, and turned and ran back to Sarah’s room.
As she came up to the door she heard Sarah saying, “It was because Katherine was—dreadfully upset about her mother—she’d never talked about it before, and it sort of made her remember everything. She—she wouldn’t have been so rude if she hadn’t been upset.”
And then Miss Halsey’s voice. “I’m sure she was rude, and I’m sure she was upset, but I don’t think it was her mother she was upset about.”
“But of course it was, Miss Halsey.”
“Why did she jump up so quickly when I came in?”
“She didn’t want you to see she’d been crying.”
And then Miss Valentine’s voice, cool and impersonal as always. “You’d better go and find Katherine and bring her here, Sarah.”
Katherine opened the door and went straight to Miss Halsey. She tried to sound as much like a polite and penitent young English girl as she could. “Miss Halsey, I want to apologize for having been so rude to you in the music room. I was—upset—and it embarrasses me to have people see me cry and I wasn’t very good at controlling myself. I’m terribly sorry. I know my rudeness was entirely unforgivable. It was all my fault, completely. Sarah didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“To do with what?”
“The rudeness. It was only me.” She turned to the headmistress. “Miss Valentine, excuse me for changing the subject, but it’s not true that Monsieur Vigneras is leaving after Easter, is it?”
“I don’t think this is the time to talk about that, Katherine,” Miss Valentine said.
“Please. I’ve got to know.”
Her voice was so intense that the headmistress answered her. “No. He’s not leaving. He’s going to Paris to give a concert, but he’ll be back.” Katherine felt the wonderful soaring feeling of relief inside her. No stupid punishment Val chose to impose on her would matter now. She smiled radiantly at Sarah, who took her hand. Miss Halsey turned to Miss Valentine and said “Please,” in an impatient voice.
Miss Valentine looked at Katherine. “Were you in the bathroom, Katherine?”
Katherine answered, a little startled, “No.”
Miss Valentine turned to Sarah, “Why did you say she was in the bathroom?”
“I don’t know,” Sarah said.
“Where were you?” Miss Valentine asked Katherine.
“I went down to the common room to see if I could find out if it was true about Monsieur Vigneras’ leaving.”
“I told you to go to your rooms and stay there.” Miss Halsey had a rubber band in her fingers and kept twisting it until Katherine wanted to reach out and snatch it from her.
But all she said was, “I had to find out about Monsieur Vigneras.”
“When you are told to do something by one of the mistresses,” Miss Valentine said, “you are expected to obey.”
“I’m sorry.”
Miss Valentine turned back to Sarah. “Why did you lie?”
And again Sarah said helplessly, “I don’t know.”
“You’d better be careful, Sarah,” Miss Halsey said. “You don’t want to be kept out of the next form play.”
“Oh!” Katherine said suddenly. “That was my fault. I told her to say I was in the bathroom. I thought it would cause less upset. I just remembered. I’m sorry. It was my fault, not Sarah’s. The whole thing was.”
“What were you doing in the music room?” Miss Valentine asked Sarah.
“We were talking.”
“How long had you been in the music room?”
“Ever since lunch.”
“Talking the whole time?”
“No. Most of the time Katherine was practicing and I was reading.”
Miss Halsey cut in. “What were you reading?”
“The Oxford Book of English Verse. It belongs to Katherine’s aunt, Manya Sergeievna—the actress.”
“Do you often sit with Katherine when she practices?” Miss Valentine asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you ever go over to Monsieur Vigneras’ studio with her at night?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” Miss Halsey said, “I saw you and Katherine coming back from the studio one night last week.”
“I often go and get Katherine after preparation hours. She can’t hear the bell over there.”
“Don’t you have a watch?” Miss Valentine asked Katherine.
“Yes. But when I’m practicing I forget about the time, and ever since I was awfully late one night, someone’s always come to get me. If Sarah doesn’t, Sheila or Ginny or Pen Deerenforth do.”
“Do you usually spend Saturday afternoon in the common room?”
“No,” Katherine said.
“Why not?”
“I’m surrounded by enough people during the week.”
“Where do you usually go Saturday afternoon?”
“To the fourth-floor practice room.”
“Does Sarah go with you?”
“Often.”
“And she reads?”
“Yes.”
“What do you do Saturday evening?”
“I practice in Monsieur Vigneras’ studio.”
“Even though there’s no preparation?”
“Yes.”
“And Sunday afternoons?”
“I practice, usually.”
“And when you don’t practice?”
“I go to the fourth-floor practice room anyhow.”
“Why?”
“Because I like it there.”
“Because it’s private?”
“Yes.”
“Do you go there alone?”
“Often.”
“And when you’re not alone?”
“Somebody’s with me.”
“Who?”
“Sarah, usually.”
“You see a good deal of Sarah?”
/> “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I like her.”
“Why?”
“Because I can talk to her.”
“You weren’t doing anything besides talking and practicing this afternoon in the music room?”
“No.”
“Did anyone else come into the music room?”
“Pen Deerenforth.”
“What did she want?”
“To ask us about the cinema tonight.”
“Are you going?”
“Sarah is. I’m not.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Practice.”
Miss Valentine turned and focused her cold, brown eyes on Sarah. “Penelope Deerenforth and you were very friendly when you first came to the school, weren’t you?”
“Yes,” Sarah answered.
“Is she as good a friend now as ever?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
“Whom do you prefer, Penelope or Katherine?”
“Katherine.”
“Why?”
“Because I can really talk to Katherine.”
Miss Valentine turned to Miss Halsey, who was still twisting the rubber band about on her fingers. “I think you’d better ask Penelope to come here, please.”
Miss Halsey snapped the elastic onto her wrist. “Certainly, Miss Valentine.” She went out, shutting the door sharply behind her.
“Why are you asking us all these questions?” Katherine said.
Miss Valentine’s brown eyes were expressionless as she answered, “Because I want to help you.”
“Help us about what?”
“Certain things I think you don’t understand.”
“Ever since I’ve been here your only method of helping us has been to confuse us,” Katherine said. She knew she shouldn’t talk, but it was the only way not to cry.
Sarah laid a restraining hand on her arm. “Kat—”
But Katherine paid no attention, and Miss Valentine stared at her impassively, letting her talk.
“I wasn’t confused about everything before I came here. People didn’t try to read meanings and motives into the simplest things. Miss Halsey doesn’t know why I want to read all of Don Quixote instead of the condensed version. Miss Anderson doesn’t understand why I spend my week ends practicing instead of playing bridge and chattering. But, golly, it’s all wrong the way we have to live here. Human beings have to be alone once in a while. The only doors that have locks on them are the bathroom doors. In our bedrooms or the practice rooms, or anywhere, you can never be sure you’re not going to be interrupted.”
“You shouldn’t be afraid of being interrupted, if you have nothing to hide,” Miss Valentine said.
“It’s not a question of having anything to hide. It isn’t right for us not to have some privacy, to be always surrounded by hordes of gibbering girls. Sometimes I think if I hear another giggle I’ll scream. And if you’re ever unhappy about anything and want to cry, the only place you can go is the bathroom. Golly, sometimes I think I’m more at home in the bathroom than any other place in school.”
“That will do, Katherine,” Miss Valentine said.
Katherine spoke quietly. “I’m sorry I was rude to Miss Halsey this afternoon. I think rudeness is unforgivable, and I deserve to be punished for that. But I don’t know what all these questions are about.”
There was a light knock on the door, and Miss Halsey came in with Pen.
“Thank you, Miss Halsey,” Miss Valentine said. “You may go now if you like.”
Katherine could see that Miss Halsey did not like, but she bowed stiffly to Miss Valentine and left. Pen looked questioningly at Katherine and Sarah.
“There are one or two questions I’d like to ask you, Penelope,” Miss Valentine said.
“Yes, Miss Valentine?” Pen pushed her glasses up on her nose.
“Did you go up to the practice room on the fourth floor this afternoon?”
“Yes, Miss Valentine.”
“Who was there?”
“Sarah and Katherine.”
“What were they doing?”
“I don’t know. Talking, I guess.”
“Where were they sitting?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Think.”
“I guess Sarah was on the window seat, and Katherine at the piano.”
“Why did you go up there?”
“To ask them about the cinema tonight.”
“What did they say?”
“They said they would.”
“Both of them?”
“Yes. Katherine thought she ought to practice, but we told her to come to the cinema.”
“You changed your mind about that afterward, Katherine?” Miss Valentine asked.
“Yes,” Katherine answered.
“Why?”
“Because I knew I ought to practice.”
“Did you talk to them about anything else?” Miss Valentine asked Pen.
“I asked them if either of them wanted to come down to the common room and play bridge.”
“And?”
“They didn’t want to.”
“Why?”
“Katherine was practicing, I think, and Sarah said she was too comfortable where she was.” Pen kept pushing nervously at her glasses and trying to look at Sarah and Katherine without being seen by Miss Valentine.
“Have you noticed any change in Sarah recently?” Miss Valentine asked Pen.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Miss Valentine.”
“Very well, Penelope. You may go now. Will you send Sheila Hughes-Gibbs to me, please?”
“Yes, Miss Valentine.” Pen left, managing to give Katherine a comforting poke on her way out.
“Please, Miss Valentine,” Katherine said, “I don’t know what you’re trying to get at, but I think you’re on the wrong track.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
“Do you really have to drag Sheila into it?”
“Yes. I do.”
Katherine ignored Sarah’s warning nudge, and her voice galloped on again unsteadily. “St. Christopher’s supposed to be the patron saint of travelers, isn’t he? It seems to me we’re sort of travelers. But I don’t think when we get out of here we’ll find we’ve been helped across the river. We’re much more apt to find we’ve been dumped right in the middle of it.”
Miss Valentine deliberately ignored her outburst.
“Why didn’t you and Sarah tell me that Penelope had asked you to go downstairs and play bridge?”
“I didn’t think of it,” Katherine said. “Did you, Sarah?”
“No.”
“I don’t know how to play bridge, anyhow,” Katherine added, as a knock sounded on the door.
Miss Valentine called “Come in,” and Sheila entered.
“Did you send for me, Miss Valentine?” she asked.
“Yes, Sheila. You’re Sarah Courtmont’s roommate, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Miss Valentine.”
“Has Katherine Forrester ever been in your room at night?”
“No, Miss Valentine. Why, Miss Valentine?”
“Have you noticed any change in either of them recently?”
“No, Miss Valentine. Why, Miss Valentine?”
“Please simply answer my questions, Sheila.”
“Yes, Miss Valentine.”
“Have they been off alone more than usual lately?”
“Katherine’s always gone off alone.”
“Don’t the other girls resent that?”
“At first, I guess. We’re used to it now.”
“And Sarah?”
“Oh, we’ve all liked Sarah right from the start. She’s wonderful at hockey. She’s on the team already. And she’s always lots of fun.”
“Then you’ve noticed no difference in either Katherine or Sarah?”
“No, Miss Valentine.”
“Think.”
“No. Katherine’s always been a queer bird and Sarah’s just the same as ever.”
“How has Katherine been queer?”
“Sort of unfriendly. Always off practicing. She’s all right when you get used to her ways, though.”
“All right, Sheila. That will be all. Thank you. I trust you to say nothing about this.”
“No, Miss Valentine. Of course not, Miss Valentine,” and Sheila left.
“Miss Valentine, please,” Katherine asked, “what is all this about?”
“Sarah,” Miss Valentine said, “will you wait outside for just a minute, please?”
“Yes, Miss Valentine.” Sarah gave Katherine’s hand a squeeze and went out.
“Your mother is dead, Katherine?” Miss Valentine asked.
Katherine reached up and clutched the locket under her uniform. “Yes.”
“You spend the holidays with your father and your stepmother?”
“Yes.”
“Do you go out with boys your own age during the holidays?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know any.”
“What do you do?”
“Father and I play a lot on two pianos. And I read. And I often go to the theater with Aunt Manya and sit in her dressing room. And she takes me out to teas and things with her friends.”
“Don’t you think you may be taking your music a little too seriously?”
“My mother was training me to be a pianist. I’ve got to let school interrupt as little as possible.”
“You might be a better musician, if you learned to live a more normal life.”
“I don’t consider the life we’re given here at school normal.”
Miss Valentine changed her tack. Her voice was deceptively gentle as she asked, “Don’t you think that perhaps you and Sarah are getting too dependent on each other?”
“No.”
“Have you ever kissed Sarah?”
“No.”
“Are you telling me the truth?”
“Of course.”
“Miss Halsey said that you and Sarah were kissing each other in the music room.”
“Miss Halsey’s cracked. I was crying, and Sarah was being nice to me. I don’t know—maybe she did kiss me. What difference does it make, anyhow?”
“You’re very fond of Sarah, aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Sometimes people who are as over-intense about things as you are about your music get over-intense about human beings. I think it would be better if you didn’t see Sarah quite so much.”