Movie Shoes (4 page)

“Has this aunt you’re staying with got a piano?”

Tim thought that a stupid question. “A piano! Every house has a piano.”

“On the contrary, very few houses have pianos. Doesn’t matter a bit that you’re missing your lessons for a couple of terms, and Jeremy Caulder says it suits him better to start you at Easter, as he’ll be in London quite a lot then; but you must practice. What are you going to do about that if your aunt hasn’t a piano?

Tim could not believe he had an aunt so dead to decency that she could live without a piano, but even if she was as peculiar as all that, everybody in America couldn’t be queer. Somewhere there must be a piano. He sat down on the piano stool, and with one hand, made a brushing movement in the air, as if to brush Mr. Brown’s foolish fears away.

Don’t worry. I’ll find a piano.”

Mr. Brown laughed. “All right, Tim, I’ll leave it to you. I feel sure if there’s a piano anywhere, you will find it, but mind you do. If you come back without having practiced, I shall take you to a pond and drown you.”

They Are Off

Light had just begun to sneak through the curtains when Rachel opened her eyes. For a moment she was suspended halfway between being asleep and being awake. Then, with a jump, she sat up. This was going-away day. She got out of bed, pulled back the curtains, and looked out. She let out a pleased “Oh!” for it was a glorious morning. The sun was shining, making the already autumn-turned leaves on the two trees that could be seen from the window a glittering gold; the sky was a clear pale blue, a flawless poem of a morning, just the day to start to cross the Atlantic.

“What’s it like?” came from Jane.

Jane was sitting up in her bed looking pale, tousled, and cross. A hump under the eiderdown was Chewing-gum. As a rule he was not allowed on beds, but the night before, Jane had said, “Chewing-gum’s sleeping with me tonight,” and nobody, not even Peaseblossom, had argued. In a house bulging with excitement Jane was the one sad person. She was so miserable that she had not been bad or rude for days. This was so noticeable, it had made Tim say, “I do miss Jane’s being cross. I’ve nobody to fight with.” Rachel, turning as Jane spoke, felt a little of the gladness of the morning slipping out of the door. Poor Jane! Of course, nobody liked leaving Chewing-gum, but only Jane minded so terribly that she could not be thrilled about going away. Rachel tried to cheer her up.

“It’s a lovely day. No wind at all. I don’t think any of us will be seasick.”

Jane was not in the mood to like hearing good news. “Some people don’t need waves; they’re just seasick.”

Peaseblossom came in just in time to hear this.

“Who’s talking about seasickness? Your father’s heard the seven o’clock weather forecast, and it’s splendid. Not a mention of a gale. Up you get, travelers. Fold your sheets and pillowcases and put them in the laundry basket in the kitchen. No rush and scramble; everything in order and everything in time; that’s our way.”

It was a funny morning, unlike any other. The boiler had been allowed to go out, so there was only cold water to wash in. It felt so queer packing each thing away as it was finished with: brushes, combs, washing things, pajamas. Nothing was left about to show anybody had slept in the house.

There was an unusually good breakfast, for there was no need to be careful of the rations; there would be no rationing on the
Mauretania
or in America. The tragedy was that when for once they were asked to finish their butter rations and to eat bacon and eggs, nobody was hungry, and although there was heaps of time, they felt they must hurry. Bee thought this quite natural and unimportant.

“Don’t worry, darlings. When Mrs. Bones comes to tidy after us, she’ll be very pleased to find we’ve left all this for her. I told her to take everything there was.”

How queer that was to think of! Mrs. Bones, who came to help now and again and was a friend of theirs; coming into an empty house. Mrs. Bones, who would never touch a thing which did not belong to her, packing up their rations and carrying them home with her.

Their minds were taken off Mrs. Bones by the sound of a car stopping outside. Everybody tried not to look at Jane, but they all knew whose car it was. The front doorbell rang.

It was all over in a couple of minutes. Dr. Smith said he was in a terrible hurry. He picked up Chewing-gum’s basket, which Jane had packed with his biscuits and a bottle of his medicine his brush and comb, his special soap, his spare collar and lead, his water bowl, his rubber bone, his half-eaten teddy bear, and his rug. Jane knelt by Chewing-gum and clipped on his lead. She gave the lead to Dr. Smith, who very tactfully did not speak to her but to Chewing-gum. “Come on, old man. You wouldn’t believe what a bone I’ve got waiting for you in the car.”

The moment the front door shut behind Dr. Smith and Chewing-gum, everybody began to run. The night suitcases had to come down and join the rest of the luggage m the hall. Jane was handed a wet dishcloth and told to give all the stick-on luggage labels a final dab in the hope they would stick for lots of the
W’s
for Winter and the labels saying “Stateroom Baggage” were curling at the corners. Tim was given the job of counting the luggage and seeing that the tie-on labels were all securely knotted. Rachel had to search the bedrooms to be sure everything was packed and that nobody had packed the coats and hats he or she was traveling in. John went to the neighbors officially to say good-bye but really to remind them once more that this was the day they were going away, and would they please keep an eye on the house to see it was not burgled? Bee and Peaseblossom rushed around the house doing all those last things that they had forgotten to do or forgotten to ask Mrs. Bones to do for them. Then the clock struck, and John shouted, “Hurry up, everybody, or the cars will be here.” They all rushed and put on their hats and coats, and only just in time, for as they came down again, the two cars Peaseblossom had hired stopped at the door.

They had a wonderful send-off. Every house in Saxon Crescent had somebody out to wave good-bye to them. There were extra people as well. The postman had loitered so that he could cheer. The newspaper boy had hurried through his round so that he could come back and see them off. Mrs. Bones, her hat on one side, came tearing up the street to have what she called a last peep at them. Even the policeman who was sometimes on the comer was there that morning, and he called out, “Good luck.”

It hardly seemed possible that they really were safely on the boat train. They were in a long railway carriage with tables in it. Peaseblossom and the children were at one table and John and Bee at another, which they shared with a Scot couple who were going out to America to see their married daughter. It was so funny to look around the railway carriage and think that they would be seeing all the people in it for the next six days. And to realize that they were not the only people starting on a great adventure. The journey passed wonderfully quickly. Just as it was beginning to be a bore, Peaseblossom ordered coffee for them all and, as a surprise, brought out of her case a most wonderful supply of chocolate cookies on which she had used what was left of the ration points. Now that they had really started and, with all their luggage, were safely on the train, they found the appetites they had lost at breakfast had come back. Even Jane, who had not spoken at all but glared out of the window, ate three chocolate cookies and seemed to enjoy them.

Southampton Docks was rather boring. There was a lot of standing in lines and answering questions, but just as it seemed as if the
Mauretania
must sail without them, John said, “We’re through. Come on, everybody.” They found themselves moving toward a sign marked Cabin Class Only, then up a gangway, and there they were on board the
Mauretania.

The
Mauretania

Days on land are like beads threaded on a string, big beads, little beads, gay beads for Christmas and birthdays, but on a ship cannot go on the same string. They somehow and feel as if they need a special thread all to themselves. That is how the
Mauretania
felt to the Winters. As their feet touched the deck, it was as if a door slammed; behind it were Saxon Crescent, Mrs. Bones, Dr. Smith, everybody and everything that was life at home. Even Chewing-gum was behind that door. Six days ahead was another door, which would open on America; but that was tight shut, they did not even think about what was on the other side of
it. Peaseblossom and the children had a cabin on one deck, and John and Bee had one on another. The
Mauretania
seemed so big that Rachel felt a bit scared at seeing Bee leaving them. On a journey to the other side of the world it seemed safer not to be separated. A steward who had picked up most of their hand luggage saw her expression and understood at once.

“Don’t you worry, you won’t lose ‘em, but by tomorrow they’ll be lucky if they can find
you
when they want you. Never traveled with a child yet who didn’t know the ship almost as well as I do before we were a day out. “

It was quite a walk to get to the cabin. Down two decks, along a passage, then down a tiny passage and there it was. It was the neatest place the children had ever seen. There were four bunks, two on each side, two cupboards and shelves, two chests of drawers, a porthole with little curtains and a washbasin with hot and cold water. Of course the first important thing to decide was who should sleep where. Naturally all the children wanted the top bunks. After all, you can sleep on the floor anytime, but it is something special to have a bed you have to climb to get into. Peaseblossom had to think quickly.

Chewing-gum, but she did not want to say so, as, obviously for the present, the less said about him, the better. She decided to make a martyr of Rachel.

“I think we’ll fix it by age. Rachel and I will have the lower bunks. We don’t mind, Rachel, dear, do we? It’s all going to be such splendid fun.”

Rachel did mind and was just going to say so when there was a knock on the door and in came a steward in a white coat. He was carrying a long box and some telegrams. He was a cheerful man with a sunburned face and very blue eyes.

“I’m your bedroom steward. Name of Williams. Which of you is Miss Bean?” When Peaseblossom had taken the box he looked at the telegrams. “Miss Rachel Winter. Miss Jane Winter. Tim Winter.” He raised his eyebrows in a funny way. “Would that be you three?”

No one had thought that people would send parcels and telegrams. After all, they luck to go away, so if any parcels and telegrams were being sent, you would have thought they would have gone to people left behind. All the same, it was lovely to have them. Rachel’s was from Madame Fidolia: GOOD LUCK DEAR FROM US ALL WE SHALL MISS YOU STOP POSY HAS CABLED SHE WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU MADAME. Tim’s was from Mr. Brown: HAVE A GOOD TIME BUT DON’T FORGET TO PRACTICE MICHAEL BROWN. Jane’s was from Dr. Smith: CHEWING-GUM HAS BEEN WITH ME FOR AN HOUR AND HAS NOT YET LOOKED UP FROM HIS BONE ENJOY YOURSELF LOVE SMITH.

Rachel read her telegram out loud.

“Imagine Madame sending me a telegram! It’s awfully grand thing to have happened. Just fancy Posy Fossil having cabled about me, and her a star!”

Jane had climbed into the bunk over Rachel’s to read her telegram. It was so nice to think of Chewing-gum happily eating a bone that she spoke in quite her old way.

“I’m glad I’m not a dancer and have to feel humble as a worm whenever that Madame noticed me. Now listen to my telegram. This is a sensible telegram.”

They were so glad to hear Jane being herself again and to think that Chewing-gum had settled down that they said nothing about her rude way of talking but agreed it was glorious telegram. In fact, Peaseblossom went on saying things about it so long that Tim, who had climbed up into his bunk, had to interrupt her.

“Everybody would think I hadn’t had a telegram. Would you listen, please?”

They listened then, and Peaseblossom admired it very much.

“Splendid. Practice, that’s the way. Mustn’t let the side down.” She was undoing her box while she spoke and took out some carnations. She read the card and looked pleased. “They’re from a school friend, and listen to what she says. ‘Hope you have learned to sing “California, Here I Come.”” They had never heard of a song called that, but somehow the line made them feel terribly gay and excited. Tim sang it to the tune of “Good King Wenceslas.” “California, here I come, Cali-Cali-fornia. California, here I come. Cali-california.” In a minute they all, even Peaseblossom, were joining in. Tim knelt on his bunk and conducted. Among them they made such a noise that they did not hear a knock on the door and were surprised to find the stewardess in the middle of the cabin; she was laughing.

“I came in to tell you I was your stewardess. My name is Miss Mann.”

They all said, “How do you do.” Miss Mann was fat and cozy-looking, just the sort of person you would choose as your stewardess. Peaseblossom was particularly glad to find such a friendly-looking stewardess because she knew there would be lots of things she would want to know.

“I’m afraid we were making rather a noise,” Peaseblossom said.

“I gather you’re going to California. My, I wish it were me.” She came over to Peaseblossom. “Have you booked your sittings for meals? You’ll want first sitting for the children, and if I were you, I’d get some unpacking done; it’s a good thing to get things shipshape before you start.”

Peaseblossom explained that John would be seeing to the table bookings, but she thought unpacking was a good idea. She looked around at the baggage. “I think I’ll do better on my own in this small space. You children run along and have a look around, and on the way go to your mom and dad’s cabin and show them your telegrams.”

John and Bee’s cabin was much smaller than the children’s and it had no porthole; but it was nice. Bee was alone in it, unpacking. She was thrilled by the telegrams and sat down on the lower bunk and showed the children all the telegrams that she and John had received. Almost everybody they knew seemed to have sent one, and there were five 1lots of flowers as well.

Rachel said, “Aren’t we grand suddenly! It’s almost as if we’d become royalty.”

Tim, who had climbed up to the upper berth to see if it was as good as his own, shouted, “One, two, three, altogether,” and started, “California, here I come. Cali- Cali-fornia.” Rachel and Jane joined in at the top of their voices.

Bee put her hands over her ears. “Stop, darlings, we shall disturb everybody. Come down off there, Tim. Don’t you want to see us sail? We shall be off in no time now. You’d better run up on the deck, where you’ll get a good view.”

The last person went ashore. The last gangway was pulled in, the last rope unhitched. There was a little gate between the
Mauretania
and the dock. People on the dockside waved and cheered. Hundreds of sea gulls wheeled and cried. The gap widened. It was too big to jump across. It was too big to swim across. They were off.

The wind got up a bit in the night. It made the
Mauretania
roll. The roll was quite gentle and made the family sleep as if somebody were rocking their bunks for them. In the children’s cabin they did not know it was morning until Miss Mann came in with orange juice and tea. She drew back the little curtains which were across the porthole and started on Tim.

“Wakey, wakey. Rise and shine. Show a leg.”

Tim blinked and sat up and, seeing who it was, felt pleased. “Good morning. What did you say?”

“What they say in the navy. Wakey, wakey. Rise and shine. Show a leg.”

Jane leaned out of her bunk to take her orange juice. “Why do they say it?”

Peaseblossom had not moved, nor had Rachel, so Miss Mann put a cup of tea on the table beside. Peaseblossom and orange juice beside Rachel. She shook a finger at Jane.

“I can see you’re the ‘why’ sort. Never ask me why anything in the morning. I’ve all my passengers to call and get to their baths. Now, when the steward knocks to say your baths are ready, you’re to run, or you’ll have everybody late for breakfast.”

The word “breakfast” made Jane and Tim hungry. The food on the
Mauretania
was too gorgeous to be believed. There was so much to chose from, and you could eat as much as you liked; not just three courses as in a restaurant. Then too there was all the bread anybody could eat, and not just ordinary bread, but white bread. Most surprising of all, there was unlimited butter. They had not believed the table steward at first when he had told them this, but they found it to be true because as soon as they had finished one dishful, they had started on another. Unfortunately, in spite of there being so much of everything, John, Peaseblossom, and even Bee were very strict about what could be eaten. With party food of every sort on the menu, for both lunch and supper, the children were allowed only cold meat or boiled fish and fruit afterward. John said, “You’ve Dr. Smith to thank. He say we let ourselves go at first, we’ll all be ill for weeks afterward, and it s not worth it.”’

Tim, sipping his orange juice, looked across at Jane. He sighed with ecstasy. “Orange juice! A whole tumbler of orange juice coming in as if it were just ordinary. “

Jane nodded. “And for breakfast, I wouldn’t wonder, bacon and real egg. That’s the sort of food that’s ordinary on this ship.”

“Even two slices of bacon and two whole eggs.” Tim leaned out of his bunk and looked down at Peaseblossom. She had not moved. He lowered his voice. “If we could only get to the dining room first and eat them before anybody could stop us.”

Peaseblossom half sat up. She stretched out a hand for her tea, then took it back again. She spoke in a much less brisk voice than usual. “Good morning, dears. What are you talking about?”

Jane hung out of her berth so that she could see Peaseblossom. “Food. Bacon and eggs, actually.”

The words “bacon and eggs” had an odd effect on Peaseblossom. She gave a queer moan and turned over on her back and shut her eyes.

Jane made a face at Tim. Tim, curious to see what was going on underneath him, hung almost upside down. “Are you ill, Peaseblossom?”

Peaseblossom spoke in a whisper. “Not ill. Just a little tired. Please leave me alone. “

Rachel was awake and drinking her orange juice. She thought at first it was delicious. Then she was not sure. She put down the glass. Then she, too, rolled on her back and shut her eyes. Tim looked at Rachel in amazement. “You can’t be tired, too. We’ve been asleep for hours and hours.”

Jane climbed out of bed. She looked pityingly at Peaseblossom and Rachel. “They’re not tired. They’re seasick.”

It was unfair, Rachel thought, that only she and Peaseblossom should feel the sea. Such heavenly things were happening on deck. There was a band. There were film shows. There was a game called bingo, and the lounge steward said there would be a horse-racing game, and when it happened, Jane and Tim would each have a turn at shaking the dice.

On the second day out the wind dropped, and just before eleven o’clock a very pale Rachel came up on deck. Bee walked on one side of her, and John on the other, but she did not need any help. Jane and Tim had a deck chair with a leg rest all ready for her. She got onto it and shut her eyes, while Tim and Jane solicitously tucked a rug around her. Presently Rachel opened her eyes. There were people all around sitting on chairs, laughing and talking. The sky was blue; the sun was shining. A solitary sea gull was flying above the ship. Rachel took a quick glance at the sea. It was dark green and navy blue, with gay white horses bobbing as far as the horizon. She took a deep breath, and good, clear sea air filled her lungs, a lovely change after a stuffy cabin with a closed porthole.