by Hilary Wilde
"I was seeing Miss Hunter about the ballet class I'm going to give to the children," she explained. He nodded. "Oh, I see. Yes, Mrs. Lindstrom was telling me about it. Deborah will enjoy it." "Oh, yes, she's very good, very good indeed." Lauren stopped talking, suddenly aware that her very nervousness might make him suspicious. She smiled vaguely and slipped by him, escaping to her room, deciding to finish her letter sitting on the balcony. In the morning, she had ten pupils on the sands; in less than a week, she had thirty, all little girls in sun-suits or swim-suits. There could be no question of devoting the time to ballet alone, so she taught them the basic positions and some steps, and also gave them lessons in Greek dancinganything that was rhythmic and graceful. She often wondered what Miss Hunter charged for the lessons, but as she herself was getting nothing, it did not really interest her, and most of the parents seemed delighted to have their small girls taken off their hands for an hour each morning. As the days passed by, her life seemed to have settled down into a steady and pleasant routine. Since she began giving the dancing lessons in tlie morning she rarely saw Roland Harvey, for" he seldom joined them in the short time she had before the afternoon's practice. Everything went smoothly, Nick being in a good mood, though a little quiet. Then came the night they danced their French Doll dance. It was the first time she had danced it, and Lauren did not like it when they practised it. It was to be the third and final dance of the evening. The first dance was a new kind of tango, a rapid, spirited dance; their second dance that night was a lively one-step; and as Claudia helped 92 her to dress for the French Doll dance, Lauren felt tired and depressed. It was a very hot'day, an oppressive sort of evening, with clouds banking in the sky and the lagoon looking almost oily in its stillness. There was a sultriness in the atmosphere that was heavy and made her feel exhausted. Also, she confessed to herself, it was partly because it had been such a very depressing day. It was Deborah's birthday, ..and Lauren had taken her presents down with her to the beach, but Deborah was not in the class that day. However, later, lying under their palm tree, she had been so sure the child would turn up that, as the hours passed, and there was no sign of Deborah or of Roland Harvey, her thoughts began to imagine all sorts of things. Had Roland Harvey taken Deborah and her mother out for the day . . . perhaps, on one of the many yachts that were in the harbour? She packed up the small embroidered handbag she had made for Deborah, and the gaily coloured story book, and thought the day would never end. But it did, and here she was, dressing for the third and last dance of the evening and wishing herself a few hundred miles away! The stiffly starched petticoats and pale blue frock with the large sash, the long white socks and the shiny black, flat-heeled shoes made a very different costume from what she usually wore when dancing. She adjusted the wig of golden curls that framed her face, a last dab^of powder on her nose, a quick worried look at the reflection of the French Doll, with a white face and two blobs of scarlet in her cheeks, a cupid's bow of a mouth. All very neat and prim. She moved her arms and legs stiffly as Nick had taught her. Nick was waiting by the open doorway to the ballroom, hidden from view by the heavy folds of the cream and gold brocade curtains. Joining him, she thought how comical he looked in his exagger93 "^ ated French" costume; his moustache and beard changing him completely, his white kid gloves, his black pointed shoes, his black silk suit. They stood together, waiting for the drums to" roll, gazing at the crowded tables, each one lit by pink and gold candles. The usual clatter of soundchatter, laughter, clatter of dishes, music. Suddenly the roll of drumsa sudden silence ... Lauren had her hand through Nick's arm and she felt his body stiffen suddenly. "What is it, Nick?" she asked. Her nerves, already taut from tiredness, seemed to be stretched to breaking point. He turned to her almost roughly. "Nothing at all. Come on, or we'll miss our cue." . But his quick movement was too late, for already she had seen the .table by the floor -and recognized its occupants.' The ballroom was plunged into black darkness and the spotlight f9cused its shaft of blinding light on them as they danced on to the floor. She moved like an automaton and was aware that Nick was almost carrying her and that her legs were far more stiff than they were supposed to be. She danced as if dazed, trying hard to remember all Nick had taught her, knowing she was not helping him at all with the lifts. Seated at that table had been Roland Harvey, Mrs. Lindstrom and . . . and Deborah. It was the sight of Deborah that had filled Lauren with such fear. You might fool grownupsbut rarely children. As Nick lifted her and swung her round, he said in a harsh whisper, "Pull yourself together. They won't know you." Her feet touched the ground and she went through the routine pantomime of walking away stiffly, her every moment expressive of her contempt for the man who had purchased her from 94 the doll shop. She drew several long deep breaths, resolutely looking away from the direction of that certain table. No, Nick was right. Deborah would not know her. It would never enter the child's head that this could be her Miss Woubin. To Deborah, this would simply be a part of an excitingday spent with her adored Roland Harvey. She missed a step and Nick had to cover up for her by improvising, and then, gratefully, she realized that the music was coming to a close. Nick's hand was warm on hers as he led her forward to bow. She gave a stiff curtsey and then bowed as the applause rippled through the crowded room. She could see the table as the lights in the ballroom blazed. Deborah was clapping excitedly, her little freckled face radiant. Roland was lighting a cigarette and handing it to Mrs. Lindstrom. And then, suddenly, Deborah was on her feet. As she ran across the room, and in the sudden silence, her voice came shrill and clear. "Why, it's Miss Woubin ... my Miss Woubin!" 95
CHAPTER SEVEN
DEBORAH'S voice sounded clear and loud in the suddenly quiet ballroom. Lauren's first impulse was to turn and run, her second to tell Deborah that she was wrongand then, looking down into the child's upturned, excited little face, she knew that she could do none of these things. "Why, darling," Lauren said quietly, bending down and taking the child's hand in hers. "Many happy returns of the day. H-ave you had a, lovely birthday?" "Oh, it was tewwibly good fun, Miss Woubin," Deborah said excitedly. "Mr. Harvey, my fwiend, took us out and" "Darling, tell me about it tomorrow," Lauren said gently. "Your mummy is waiting for you." Deborah seemed to realize for the first time that she was the centre of attraction and that everyone was watching her. For a moment her mouth quivered and she looked very small and very scared. Lauren squeezed her hand. "We'll curtsey to the people, Deborah, just like we do on the stage, and then I'll take you back to your mummy." Deborah beamed. "You'll curtsey, too?" "Of course." Lauren managed to laugh. "So will Nick, Deborah, may I introduce my partner, Nick, to you?" she went on with special formality, for she knew it would, make Deborah feel important. Lauren had seen the surprise, dismay and anger on Nick's face, but she knew that whatever happened, this little incident must be, treated normally or else the child would be badly frightened, 96
Nick accepted the situation, bowing beforeDeborah, lifting her hand very formally to hismouth. "At your service, mademoiselle," he said,with an atrocious French accent. Then he smiled. "You recognized Miss Roubin at once?" There was a stillness about his face that frightened Lauren although he was still smiling."Oh, no, I didn't," Deborah said eagerly. "Shelooked so diffewent, sort of funny." She turnedimmediately to Lauren and her face was apologetic. "Nicely funny, Miss Woubin.""But then how did you know her?" Nick persisted. Deborah laughed happily. This was probably,to her, just an exciting ending to the most wonderful birthday she had ever had. "'Cos shestood just like a stork. She always does whenshe's tired," Deborah said triumphantly.Lauren stared down at her with dismay in herface and she heard Nick catch his breath. "Come on, Deborah darling," she said hastily."Come and curtsey and then we must take youback to Mummy."The three of them took a step forward and"while Nick bowed, Deborah and Lauren curtseyed. Deborah looked instantly at Lauren."Did I do that all wight? I didn't fall over.""You did it beautifully, darling," Lauren toldher. Somehow she forced her legs to move andmade herself walk across the ballroom to the t
able where Leila Lindstrom was sitting, bolt upright, her face cold and angry, and Roland Harveywas on his feet, as if hesitating whether or notto go to Deborah's rescue. As soon as she judgedshe was near enough to them to feel able to leaveDeborah on her own, but far enough away toavoid a scene, Lauren bent down, lifted Deborah's hand and rested her cheek on it for a moment "Run along, poppet," she said gently. "I'll see.you tomorrow."
As Deborah trotted dutifully forward, Laurenturned back to join Nick and there was a furtherround of applause before they could leave the ballroom.Once safely out of sight, Nick gripped her shoulders and shook her. "You little idiot! Now see what a spot your stupid trick has landed us in!"Lauren battled with tears. She was still shivering with the shock and the need to behave normally. "I'm so terribly sorry," she whispered. "It's too late to say you're sorry," he scolded her. "You and your stupid infatuation for thatman . . . making such a fuss of the kid . . .1 ought to have known this would happen!" "Please, Nick," she caught hold of his arm,"I've said I'm sorry." He looked down into the tear-filled eyes, looked at the trembling mouth. "Please, Nick, can I go to bed? I don't feel I can face"His face was hard. "No, I'm afraid you can't.We've got to face the music together. Why should. I shoulder all the blame when it's your own pigheaded stupidity that's landed us in such a mess?" He paused. "Go and get changed," he said curtly. "I'll wait for you."She changed quickly into an elegant silken Grecian gown that normally she loved, but tonightshe could only think of the moment when she must face Roland Harvey's steely, accusing eyes.Nick was waiting for her, immaculate in tails; he apologized stiffly. "Maybe I shouldn't have let fly at you like that, Lauren. You were as upset as I was, but everything seemed to be going so smoothly, and then . .." He smiled wryly. "Maybe you should see a psychiatrist about this stork image of yours. Was your knee aching?""I don't know. I think I was frightened because I'd seen Deborah with themand I never did like that French Doll dance andand I was 98
a bit tired. Oh, Nick, I never know I'm doing it," she finished desperately. His smile was twisted. "So you unconsciously comforted yourself and gave the game away, Well, it's done, so no good holding a court martial. You didn't mean to do it, I know. Anyhow,"he said more cheerfully, "we may be exaggerating it all. Perhaps your friendship with the child may have some influence on Roland Harvey's reaction. Come on, we'd better go in and dance." She was stiff in his arms as they circled the crowded floor and she searched nervously for Roland Harvey. After ten minutes, she was sure he was not there and she could breathe more easily.Nor did she see any sign of Mrs. Lindstrom or Deborah. "They're probably putting the child to bed," Nick said, as he fetched her a tomato juice. "I'm sorry for the kid, with a mother like that." "You don't like Mrs. Lindstrom?" Lauren asked, as she sipped the drink. There were still butterflies tumbling around inside her. The bad moment had only been postponed, she knew that;the moment when Roland Harvey would look at ; her, knowing she was a liar. Nick laughed. "You can say that again It's nolie. She's a real menace, that woman. She's had . a dozen dancing lessons from me already and has something of a crush on me." His eyes crinkledwith laughter as he smiled at Lauren. "You've no idea how much charm I can turn on F Lauren looked at him. "I don't know how yoncan bear to do it," she said honestly. He shrugged. "One has to earn a living, and it isn't always easy." His face clouded. "I had aletter from Natalie today. She's rather depressed, poor girl. The doctor says she's fine physicallybut her mental outlook is all wrong. She's convinced she'll never dance again, that I shall fall in love with some glamorous dame ... Her letter was just dreary with moans." "She's missing you." "I suppose so, but it isn't anyone's fault. Anyway, honey child, what I'm getting at is that thefact is that I'm out to earn every penny I can5 to give Natalie a holiday which will put her back on her feet. She just needs some sunshine, some fun and excitement, and me." He screwed up his face humorously. "Methe great lover! But it isn't easy to save, what with Miss Hunter taking a percentage of every penny I earn." "But, Nick," Lauren said quickly, "that isn't fair." "Very little in life is fair," Nick said, morecheerfully. "Let's dance once more and then we'll split up, honey child. I don't think we need worryabout tonight, for I expect Mr. Harvey will send for us in the morning."The rest of the evening sped by quite pleasantly. Lauren came in for a lot of teasing, especially from the fathers she had been introduced to as Deborah's friend, "Miss Woubin". But no one seemed annoyed about the deception. Several thought it a good idea. As one man said to her: "A dancer has to be glamorous, artificial and a little mysterious. I can quite see it must be a bit of an effort to keep that up all day long." "I am really Lauren Roubin," she told him. "And I work for the Cartwright School of Dancing, and I was only sent here because the real Natalie Natal was ill." SheWly hoped, without much hope, that Roland Harvey would take the same view as these men.In the morning she awaited the expected summons. She stayed in her room, for Nick had said that when they were sent for it would be good policy not to keep the great man waiting! She waited and waited, sitting on the balcony, gazing 100
at the lovely view, wondering how much longer she would be there to see it, thinking about cold drab London and the shame of being sent home like a naughty schoolgirl . . . But worst of all was the thought of never seeing Roland Harvey again, never having the chance to speak to him, to look at him. She had her lunch sent up to her room, afraid lest she miss the dreaded summons. But it did not come, and when she met Nick in the deserted ballroom for their practice, he was very depressed. "Mr. Harvey has flown to London," he told Lauren. "Seems he sent for the Hunter this moming and wanted to know the truthwere you Lauren Roubin or Natalie Natal, and if you weren't, why were you here and all that sort of thing. Miss Hunter says she had no choice. She's pretty mad with us and says we'vewell, madehim lose trust in her. Anyhow she said it was Miss Cartwright's fault, that we arrived here and put her in an awkward position, that it would have been impossible to replace us at such short notice, also that we told her a hard-luck story about Natalie's op and, well, all in all, properly spilled the beans." . "Was he very angry?" Lauren asked fearfully, looking round the deserted ballroom. How different it looked from what it did at night when the tables glittered with silver and glass and the sheen of starched damask and there was the clatter of plates and cutlery, and chatter and laughter. "She says he was very quiet and startled herby announcing that he was flying to London today. He didn't say why, but it's my bet that he prefers to work at top level and will make Miss Cartwright recall us." "Oh, no!" Lauren said in dismay. Nick shrugged. "Could be. Probably he'd see it as the simplest, most pleasant way of disposing of us. He'll want to avoid any unpleasant publi101 city for the hotel, and if she replaces us ..." "How can she replace us, Nick? Who is there?" Nick smiled ruefully. "Look, honey child, we could easily be replaced. Miss Cartwright is a temperamental old witch, and rather than lose Roland Harvey's goodwill and possible further engagements, she would get someone, no matter what it cost. It was only because she wanted to send out two of her regular staff that she had to choose you. We work on all-the-year-round salary, apart from a bonus for a special job like this, so it's cheaper that way. Oh, she counts the pennies all right. When I think what we must be earning for her during this three months' booking, I feel I'd like to become a free-lance and chance a few months' unemployment each year." After the work-out, they strolled back to Lauren's room, both uneasy. "Oh, Nick," Lauren burst out, "I do so hope they don't send us back." "So do I," Nick admitted. "But don't count on it. I'm expecting a cable from Miss Cartwright at any moment. Boy, will she be mad!" In her room, Lauren hurriedly finished her letter home. She had written to tell her parents the whole story; of the deception, the discovery, and how worried she was. "I wanted to tell Mr. Harvey the truth, but Nick wouldn't let me," she wrote. "Miss Hunter seemed to think he would be very angry about it, and now he is. He has rushed off to, London and Nick thinks he will make Miss Cartwright send for us. It's all too disappointing for words, and I shall absolutely hate leaving this heavenly place." She'addressed the envelope and seale
d it, comfortingly aware that her parents would sympathize and understand, only wishing they were here. She saw that she had a few minutes to spare before her appointment with the hairdresser, and remembered her promise to Deborah to 102
hear all about the wonderful birthday treat. If she was quick, she might catch Deborah in the children's dining-room, having her supper. As usual there were a lot of people walking through the lofty luxurious reception hall as shedropped her letter in the mail box, many of them guests newly arrived by plane or by ship, otherscollecting their mail, or strolling on their way to the Bamboo Room for cocktails or to meet their friends. It was always a hub of noise and laughter, and today was no exception. As she turned from the letter box, Lauren saw Mrs. Lindstrom staring at her."Please, Mrs. Lindstrom," Lauren said, "I haven't been able to see Deborah today, but would you tell her"Mrs. Lindstrom's face was icily cold with distaste. "Please, Miss Roubin or should I say Mrs. Natal?" she asked, her voice clear and loud, "I would prefer you in future to stay away from my daughter. I don't feel inclined to trust her with someone who tells lies." It, seemed to Lauren as if there was a sudden lull in the noise around them and that everyone was looking at her. She felt her cheeks grow hot. "Mrs. Lindstrom, I am Miss Roubin, as you know. There's an explanation for" "Naturally," Mrs. Lindstrom said nastily."You've had time to think one up. Of course, one cannot but wonder if it's true or not . ." She paused significantly."Of course it's true!" "I see no 'of course' about it. You've been lying to me all the time. You told me you had comehere to teach ballet to the children and_" "Please, Mrs. Lindstrom," Lauren said firmly, aware that a small crowd had collected round them, their faces bright with curiosity. "Natalie Natal had to have a severe operation and was notallowed to dance. Miss Cartwright, for whom I 103