Part 6 (1/2)

'Battlements,' he murmured. Then he laughed. 'Silly words they use at your dancing.'

The moment he laughed she felt better. If even one person like Mr Simpson did not think dancing mattered terribly, perhaps it did not.

Just before the end of the term Petrova had influenza. She had the worst kind, that is gastric, and makes you sick all day. She felt so miserable for a week that she did not care about anything. Nana looked after her, and Sylvia took the other two to their cla.s.ses, helped by Mr Simpson and his car. At the end of a week Petrova woke up one morning suddenly better. Her head had stopped going round and round, and her inside felt itself again.

'What can I have for breakfast, Nana?' she asked. 'I'm awfully hungry.'

Nana felt her hands with an experienced air and nodded.

'No temperature this morning. That's a good girl. What about a boiled egg?'

She went away and cooked it, and brought the tray and put it on the bed-table over Petrova's knees. Then she laid down a large bundle of papers.

'That Mr Simpson sent you those,' she said. 'He's clearing out, and this lot he said you'd like.'

Petrova looked at the papers. They were all about cars and aeroplanes, and she would like them; but she did not like the expression 'clearing out'. It made her inside feel as if it was going down in a lift.

'Are they going back to Kuala Lumpur?'

'That's right.' Nana straightened the eiderdown. 'Miss Brown will have to be looking for some new boarders.'

'Oh!' Petrova laid down her egg-spoon. Suddenly she was not hungry after all. 'I don't think I want this egg, Nana.'

'Now, you come on and eat it.'

Nana sat down beside her and began opening the magazines, and asked such silly questions about the aeroplanes that Petrova had to put her right, and talking, she ate her egg without noticing. Nana might be stupid about aeroplanes, but she was very good at getting people to eat when they did not want to.

The first day out of bed when you have had gastric influenza is not nice. Everybody is the same, they say 'Can't I get up?' and then at last they do get up, and they wish they were back in bed. That is exactly how it was with Petrova. Nana got her up about lunch-time, and moved her on to a sofa in the day nursery, and she left her there when she took the others out in the afternoon. Petrova looked through the window and watched them all walk up the Cromwell Road, and thought how miserable everything was. The Simpsons going away, and the Dancing Academy, and she laid down on the sofa and cried like anything. While she was crying and had got to that stage when all your words run together, and your nose is as if it was in the worst stage of a cold, and your face comes out in red lumps, there was a knock on the door. She stopped a sob to say 'Come in', but all that came out was 'Cubin', and that was so indistinct that n.o.body could have heard it. So the knock came again, and this time waited for no answer; but the door opened and in walked Mr Simpson. He did not do anything idiotic like pretending not to see that Petrova was howling, but instead sat down and laughed.

'That's exactly what I want to do after influenza. Have my handkerchief.' He pa.s.sed it over. 'It's new and it's clean, and has beautiful initials embroidered on it.'

Petrova took it, and after a lot of blowing and mopping, felt better. She looked at the initials on the handkerchief.

'They are nice,' she said stuffily. 'What's the J. for?'

'John.'

'Is your name John? Nana would like that; it's after an apostle like me and Pauline.' She gave the handkerchief back.

He put it in his pocket.

'Do you think it would make you feel better to hear my troubles?'

She nodded.

'Well, I can't go back to Kuala Lumpur.'

'Why?'

'A thing called a slump.'

She looked puzzled.

'What's a slump?'

He thought a moment, and then explained that it was as if, after training for years to be a dancer, she grew up to find there were thousands of children all trained to dance, so there were more than were wanted, and none of them could earn anything. His rubber trees were like that.

'Thousands more of them than are wanted?'

'That's right, and cheaper things than rubber trees found to get rubber from.'

'Do you mean you won't go back to Kuala Lumpur ever?'

'Probably not.' He smiled at her because she looked so pleased. 'I'm glad somebody thinks it good news.'

Will you just go on living here and doing nothing?'

'Not nothing, no. I have bought a garage.'

'Oh!' Petrova was quite pink with excitement. 'Where?'

'It's a big one not far from Piccadilly. I hope to make lots of money out of it.'

'Will you go on living with us?'

'I hope so. I thought on Sunday afternoons and in the holidays you might come along and lend a hand.'.

'In a real garage?'

Petrova could not believe her luck. Suddenly nothing mattered : dancing cla.s.ses, or having influenza - everything looked gay. She got off the sofa, and her legs, instead of feeling like cotton wool as they had all the morning, felt strong enough to go for a walk. She put her arms round his neck.

'When can I go and see it?'

He stood up so that she had to curl her legs round his waist to hold on. He carried her through the door like that.

'Tomorrow morning if it's fine I am taking you there in the car; but you are only to be out for half an hour.. Now I am taking you down to tea with us. My wife has spent the whole morning thinking of things people might like to eat after having influenza.'

CHAPTER VII.

Maeterlinck's 'Blue Bird'

THE summer term at the Academy was fun. For two whole terms they had done nothing much but exercises, and though Pauline played parts in the acting cla.s.s, there had been no dressing-up. Then one morning just before the term began, Sylvia got a letter asking them all to come to tea at the Academy, as Madame had something she wanted to talk about. There was a P.S. to the letter to say 'The students will wear formal dress.' None of them knew which formal dress was; but Theo said it meant overalls. They all thought this most peculiar, as you cannot think of anything less formal than an overall. They were all very excited to know what the meeting was about. Theo, who knew, would not say. summer term at the Academy was fun. For two whole terms they had done nothing much but exercises, and though Pauline played parts in the acting cla.s.s, there had been no dressing-up. Then one morning just before the term began, Sylvia got a letter asking them all to come to tea at the Academy, as Madame had something she wanted to talk about. There was a P.S. to the letter to say 'The students will wear formal dress.' None of them knew which formal dress was; but Theo said it meant overalls. They all thought this most peculiar, as you cannot think of anything less formal than an overall. They were all very excited to know what the meeting was about. Theo, who knew, would not say.

'You wait, you'll hear soon enough.'

Pauline tugged at her hand.