by Carola Dunn
On the left side of the car was a wall of glass, stretching as far ahead and up as she could see. Through it, dim shapes were visible but she couldn’t make out what they were.
A moment later the cars pulled up. Ben and Charlie immediately tumbled out, jumping over the running board straight to the pavement. Charlie stood staring up in awe at the towering entrance arch. Ben, after a glance upward, came to open the rear door, while Kesin descended in a more dignified manner and went to open the other door.
“You get down first, Belinda,” said Sakari.
Bel did, wondering whether she—or she and Ben—ought to try to help Sakari out. She was rather a large lady, almost as large as Mrs. Tring, whom Belinda saw approaching along the pavement with Uncle Tom. Luckily Truscott hurried from the other car to offer Sakari a strong arm.
Uncle Tom was biggest of all, and his blue and green checked suit did nothing to disguise his size. As he raised his bowler to the ladies, revealing the hairless expanse of his head, Charlie whispered an awed, “Gosh!” He hadn’t met ex–Detective Sergeant Tring before.
Ben grinned. “You’d better behave yourself, young ’un, or Sergeant Tring’ll be after you.”
“Don’t tease,” said Bel. “It’s all right, Charlie, Uncle Tom is really nice, and he’s not a policeman anymore, anyway.”
The twins arrived, holding hands, the other two little hands firmly grasped by Mrs. Gilpin and Bertha.
Miranda broke away, ran to Belinda, and hugged her round the waist. “I want to go with Bel,” she announced.
“We’re all going together,” said Daisy. “You may hold Belinda’s hand until we’re inside. I’ll go first to buy the tickets.”
“I sent Kesin yesterday to get them.” Sakari delved into her capacious handbag and triumphantly produced a sheaf of papers and a roll of tickets. “Here’s a pamphlet for each of you, with plans of the building and the park.”
“Mrs. Prasad, you’re a wonder,” said Uncle Tom.
“I have the guidebook if you desire further information, Mr. Tring.”
“We need not all stay together,” said Daisy. “We ought to have a rendezvous.”
“I suggest the north end of the nave,” said Sakari, “at the Monti Fountain, which you will find on the plan. The fish in the fountain will keep the little ones amused if they tire of running about.”
“It sounds ideal. We’ll meet there at a quarter past noon. Truscott is coming back to fetch the twins and Mrs. Gilpin at half past. Let’s go in.”
It was early, not much past ten, and few people were queuing for tickets. Sakari handed her roll to the attendant at the gate, who counted everyone off as they went through.
The hall they entered was huge, almost as high as St. Paul’s dome but all glass. The sun shone through the roof, though not as brightly as Belinda would have expected. She decided the glass hadn’t been cleaned for while. It must be an awfully difficult job, and scary with nothing underneath but glass.
Enough sunlight came in for all sorts of plants, big and small, to grow along the sides of the hall, among a multitude of statues.
Ben was studying his map. “Here’s the Monti Fountain. Let’s start there and go right round all the stuff and end up back there.”
“I want to see the monsters,” said Charlie.
“They’re in the park,” his elder brother informed him, studying the plan. “We’ll go outside this afternoon.”
“Why not now?”
“Because I bet later there will be more people, so it won’t be so much fun inside. We’ll see the monsters after lunch.”
“Come on,” Belinda urged. “Let’s not waste time arguing.”
“There’s a Navy gallery upstairs, Charlie. Our dad was in the Royal Navy, Bel.”
“Look, there’s a round and round staircase over there.”
“Spiral,” said Bel and Ben simultaneously.
“Does it go to the Navy?”
“Yes, look at the map.”
They had all reached the place where the nave that ran end to end of the palace crossed the central transept. Bel told Daisy their plans. “Is that all right, Mummy?”
“Of course. You’ve got your watch on? Keep your eye on the time.”
Ben and Charlie at once ran off to the left along the nave. Hurrying after them, Bel glanced about. On her right was the Opera House, not in use at ten on a Wednesday morning, and then the Italian Court, which was closed off, with a notice saying it was open to Crystal Palace Club members only. On her left was the Egyptian Court, the entrance guarded by gigantic statues wearing funny-looking false beards like the ones she had seen at the British Museum.
In fact there were statues all over the place. Bel passed the Renaissance and Mediaeval Courts on one side, Greek (closed for renovations) and Roman on the other. Through each entrance she saw vistas of rooms within rooms, full of statues and pillars. Between the Alhambra and Byzantine Courts, according to the pamphlet, she caught up with the boys.
They were gaping at a fountain, or rather at its pedestal. Or was it a plinth? Bel wasn’t sure. Whatever it was called, the lower part seemed to be all bosoms.
“They’re naked!” Charlie blurted out.
“Hush!” hissed Ben.
“Nude,” Belinda said firmly. “When it’s art, they’re called nude. Lots of old statues are nude. Stop staring.”
Ben looked down at his guidebook. Charlie, unabashed, asked, “Have they got heads?” and crouched to peer up under the shroud of greenery hanging from the upper basin of the fountain. “Yes,” he said, satisfied. “I wonder—”
“There’s a gallery with telescopes.” Ben’s sweeping gesture took in the upper reaches of the palace. “Up on the top level. Let’s go there first. It sounds more interesting than all these courts.”
“All right, how do we get there? Where are the stairs?”
“Look. See this circle thing on the plan? In the corner there, behind the … um … Al-ham-bra Court. Would that be stairs?”
“Another spiral staircase. But let’s go through the Alhambra Court.”
“What’s Alhambra?” Charlie asked.
“I don’t know. What does it say, Ben?”
“It’s a palace in Spain that was built by the Moors.”
“Who are the Moors?”
“People from Morocco,” said Belinda. “That’s in Africa.”
“Our mother’s people came from Africa, didn’t they, Ben.”
“Yes, and France. Come on.”
Belinda loved the Alhambra Court. It was very colourful, with bright patterned tiles and mosaics, sweet-scented flowering plants, and fountains. The central fountain was surrounded by four giant statues of lions, greatly preferable to embarrassingly nude women, though Bel didn’t think they were as good as the ones in Trafalgar Square.
The boys admired them, but they didn’t let Bel linger. They all sped across the first hall and turned right in the second, scarcely even glancing at the elaborate pillars and arches. An opening led into a passage, at the end of which an iron staircase circled upward.
When they reached it, Bel saw another passage at right angles, running behind the Alhambra. Ladies and gents conveniences opened off it, she noted. It was always useful to know where those were.
She hurried to catch up with the boys, round and round and up and up two dizzying flights.
The top gallery, high up under the glass roof, ran through big iron hoops. When Belinda looked along its length, it was like looking through a telescope backwards, narrowing into the distance. In the spaces between the hoops, real telescopes were set up to give a view through the glass wall over the whole of London, all the way to Hampstead Heath. No one else was up there yet, so each of them bagged one. Belinda explained how to find St. Paul’s dome, and once they’d spotted it, she directed them to other landmarks she recognised.
“Golly,” Ben exclaimed, “London is enormous!”
“I bet it’s as big as the whole of Trinidad,” said Charlie.
> “Maybe.” Ben didn’t like the idea, Belinda could tell.
“I shouldn’t think so, but we can look it up in Mummy’s encyclopaedia when we get home. Let’s look over the rail and see if we can see the others. Hold on tight, Charlie.”
From their height, even the biggest statues looked like toys and the people Lilliputian. Mrs. Gilpin and Bertha in their uniforms with the twins, coming out of one of the courts opposite, were unmistakable, but Bel didn’t see any of the others.
“I feel sick,” Charlie announced.
“You’re just giddy,” Bel assured him. “Sit down for a minute, and when you get up don’t glance down. Keep looking right across to the other side. Then we’ll go down the steps and you’ll be all right.”
The lower gallery had the naval museum. Ben and Charlie were thrilled.
“As well as our dad being a sailor, Uncle Frank works in the dockyard,” Ben explained. “We used to spend quite a lot of time there.”
“He’s our stepfather.”
“I remember him. I met him at Fairacres last summer.”
There were models of all kinds of ships in all stages of construction and paintings of great sea battles and storms at sea. The boys were fascinated. Belinda found it quite interesting, but gradually she drifted away from them into the next section of the gallery.
It was full of statues and pictures from India. She had learnt a bit about Hindu gods and goddesses from Deva, so it was fun identifying them—blue-faced Krishna with his milkmaid lover Radha, elephant-headed Ganesh, Hanuman the monkey-god. She happened upon a statue of the Buddha with the most beautiful smile she’d ever seen, and then became absorbed in a display of miniature paintings in brilliant colours.
“Bel, where are you?” Two pairs of feet thudded towards her.
“Here.” She emerged into the main aisle.
“Are you ready to go down?”
“Are we late?”
“No, a bit early.” Ben glanced round the Indian stuff. “Do you want to stay longer?”
“Come on!” Charlie was already starting down the stairs at the end.
“We’ve hardly seen anything on the ground floor,” said Bel. “Let’s go.”
They were halfway down when Charlie said, “Is that your nanny, Bel?”
The woman in a nursery nurse’s uniform was hurrying—almost trotting—towards the stairs, along the wide passage behind the courts. She wore a black cape and black hat but her head was bowed, so Belinda couldn’t see her face. When she passed below, her hat looked different from Mrs. Gilpin’s. Not that Bel had looked at Nanny Gilpin’s hat very closely. She was pretty sure, though, that it was the winter one, made of felt, with a black silk rose on the band and a rose carved in ebony on the end of the hat pin. The one passing below was shiny straw and the brim was broader.
“I don’t think so. No, here comes Mrs. Gilpin now. Without Oliver and Miranda. How odd! I wonder where she’s going.”
“Let’s follow her,” whispered Ben, close behind her on the next step up. “Like we did last summer.”
Privately, Belinda thought she was too old to play Red Indians. She reminded herself that her cousins were her guests and she didn’t want to be a wet blanket, as Derek was to her nowadays. “All right. But I bet she just goes back to the twins.”
The stairs were in a corner. The first nanny had turned left, towards the nave, and so did Mrs. Gilpin. Belinda had the impression she was following the unknown woman. There was no other way to go, though, so she was probably imagining it.
This passage wasn’t crowded with statues and plants. In fact it was mostly bare except for pictures on the walls. Luckily the children were all wearing rubber-soled plimsolls; they wouldn’t make any noise if they were careful. They waited till the two nannies were about halfway to the nave and then crept after them.
When the stranger reached the nave, she glanced back over her shoulder. Mrs. Gilpin half-raised her hand, as if to stop her, but instantly she vanished round the corner to her right. Nurse Gilpin paused for a moment, hands on hips, a picture of stiff outrage, then quick-marched in her wake.
“The rendezvous is the other way,” said Ben, as Belinda and the boys ran to the corner and peered round. “Do you think she’s lost?”
“No,” said Bel positively, “but where on earth is she going?”
Both uniformed figures were crossing the central aisle towards the main doors to the park. The huge hall was quite busy now, some people gawping up in wonder at the glass dome high overhead, some studying their guidebooks, some heading confidently in one direction or another.
“I’m sure Mrs. Gilpin is following that other nanny on purpose,” said Belinda. “I can’t imagine why.”
“If we don’t hurry we’ll lose them and never find out,” Ben said impatiently. “Come on.”
They dodged through the crowd. Belinda caught glimpses of the nannies until they disappeared into a jungle of marble and greenery.
“More statues and more plants!” Charlie exclaimed in disgust as they reached the outskirts. “We’ll never find them.”
“Split up,” Ben advised. “We’ll meet at the end, by the doors to the park.”
“Then can we go and see the monsters?”
“It’ll be time to go to the rendezvous, I should think,” said Bel. “Monsters after lunch.”
She went round to the right, Ben to the left, and Charlie down the centre so that they could keep an eye on him through the gaps. Bel soon saw Mrs. Gilpin’s hat bobbing along above a massive plinth, visible between the legs of a monstrous horse.
Dodging about to keep her in sight, she approached the glass doors to the terrace just in time to see her push through them. Ben and Charlie had arrived ahead of her and were lurking behind a giant sea serpent with a man and two boys struggling in its coils. Charlie popped out, grimacing and gesturing at her to hurry.
Not waiting for her, Ben dashed off. Belinda and Charlie caught up with him on the terrace outside, crouching behind the balustrade and practically fizzing with impatience. He paid no heed to the few people promenading there who gave him curious glances.
“Do hurry! Look, she’s going down the steps. The other one ran down.”
“Nannies don’t run,” said Belinda.
“That nanny does. If we don’t want yours to see us, we can’t follow till she gets farther away, then we’ll have to be pretty nippy.”
“Blast! I mean bother. You’re not to say that, Charlie, and don’t tell that I did. Which way did the other nurse go at the bottom, Ben?”
“Right. Down the steps on the right, and then round that path that curves off to the right.”
“Oh yes, I see her. She’s going to get behind those trees any minute. We’d better go now or we’ll lose her.”
“Which one are we following?” Charlie demanded.
“Both of them,” said Belinda. “There, Mrs. Gilpin’s going down the right side steps, too. If we stay close to the balustrade, I don’t think she’ll see us if she looks back.”
“Keep your heads down,” Ben advised.
Bent double, they scuttled down the wide stone steps. At the bottom, the steps divided into narrower flights to left and right. They paused to reconnoitre.
Nurse Gilpin had reached the foot of the second flight. She was marching stiffly but remarkably rapidly along a broad paved path that curved away to the right. It had lawn on either side, edged with alternating bushes and statues, perfect for trailing without being spotted.
Ben and Belinda exchanged a glance and ran down the steps. On their heels, Charlie said, “But where’s the other one? I can’t see the other one.”
“I bet Mrs. Gilpin can,” Ben reassured him. “Let’s not lose sight of her.”
Dodging from bush to bush, they were close behind when Mrs. Gilpin crossed another terrace, went down a few more steps, circled a fountain, and disappeared into a wooded area.
The children ran. They came to a rose garden with paths going all over the place in an
intricate pattern. Most of the roses were just well-pruned stumps, with red shoots sprouting here and there, but round the edge were climbing roses tied to trellises. Nanny Gilpin, down in the sunken centre, hesitated before setting off along one of the curved spokes of the circle. Reaching the path round the rim, she doubled back, then turned to the right. Belinda and the boys had stopped behind the trellises and they were able to take a shortcut without going into the garden.
From this they emerged into a wide, straight avenue of plane trees. Mrs. Gilpin, slowing now, was a short way down the gravelled walk. As the children ducked back into the trees, Belinda glimpsed the other nanny’s hat vanishing downward, presumably down another flight of steps.
The trees grew in a double row, so they slipped along between the rows. The cover ended at the steps. They watched Mrs. Gilpin trudge heavily down the double flight. Whatever she was up to, Bel had to admire her persistence.
Their mutual quarry was already halfway down the next long stretch of the avenue.
When Mrs. Gilpin reached the foot of the steps, she trod heavily onto the gravel with a crunch. The other nanny glanced back, then broke into a run. Nanny Gilpin plodded on, fading but game.
“She’s got a bee in her bonnet,” Belinda whispered.
“A bee?” said Charlie. “Won’t it sting her?”
“Never mind. Come on.”
They stole down the steps and took to the trees again.
The nanny in front came to the end of the avenue, turned off to the right, and was lost to sight. Mrs. Gilpin’s pace picked up remarkably.
“Shouldn’t we get closer?” Ben hissed. “We’ll lose them.”
“Better not. She’ll be furious if she finds out we’ve tailed her.” Belinda looked at her watch. “We shouldn’t really. We ought to go back—”
“Not yet!” The boys were unanimous.
“We ought to find out what she’s doing, so we can tell Aunt Daisy,” Ben said persuasively.
“’Sides, we ought to tell her about the bee in her hat,” said Charlie, “so she can get rid of it before it stings.”
Belinda regarded him with disfavour. “There’s no bee. That’s just a saying. All right, we’ll go a bit farther.”