Christmas Wishes (25 page)

‘Right,’ Joy said rather breathlessly as she felt her skates leave the rubber matting. ‘Ooh, how very strange it feels! And just for the record, Ralph, I’m not Amy Freud, though she’s my best friend. I’m Joy Lawrence. I wonder what made the young lady who gave me my boots think I was Amy? Oh, I know! We put our shoe bags down in the coach – we were sharing a seat – and I expect we picked up the wrong ones.’

‘That sounds likely,’ her new friend agreed. ‘Now I’m going to put my arm round your waist and you must follow suit. We won’t go very fast, or very far, until you’ve got the feel of the ice. But what I want you to remember is to slide your feet and keep your toes pointed outward … no, no, not at right angles to your body, child, just slightly outward. The quickest way to engineer a fall is to try to skate pigeon-toed; in fact that is how you stop. Are you ready? Then off we go!’

An hour later Joy put her hands to her flushed cheeks as her partner guided her to a rinkside seat. She was smiling and turned immediately to the man beside her. ‘Oh, Ralph, I can’t thank you enough. It’s the most exciting thing I’ve ever done in my whole life! No, that isn’t true, but it’s the most exciting thing I’ve done since I lost my sight. Moving at speed, feeling the wind rush in my face and learning how to avoid other couples when you warned me they were in our path … well, I can’t explain how wonderfully free I felt.’ She laughed. ‘No white stick, no dark spectacles, no steps up and down to be negotiated. No wonder the school brings pupils every year for the Christmas treat! But it must be awfully hard on you, having to slow your pace to suit mine and supporting my weight when I got muddled and tried to go right instead of left.’

Her companion took her hand and wagged it gently up and down. ‘My dear young lady, you’re a natural skater, a natural athlete in fact. You have an enviable grasp of balance, even on ice and without being able to see your surroundings. If it wasn’t for your disability … So please don’t feel sorry for me. Having a pupil like yourself is ample reward for missing a few hours of solitary skating. And I shall definitely advise you to take part in the dancing … Did they tell you that the best skaters, and their partners, do a sort of Paul Jones on the ice? We hold hands and whirl round three times, then change partners. It’s quite tricky, but don’t worry, we all make sure each new fellow has a good firm hold of you before we let go.’

Joy bounced in her seat. At that moment, she told herself, she was sure she could have circled the rink alone and done all sorts of fancy steps, for such praise had never before come her way. In fact, she reflected, she had never had the opportunity to enjoy organised sports. The playground at Bold Street school was all right for hopscotch and skipping ropes, but nowhere near large enough for hockey or lacrosse. Once every two or three weeks, the children were marched in a crocodile to a recreation ground on the outskirts of the city, where they played cricket in summer and rounders in winter. However, because of the long walk in both directions, the time available for a game was short and no one had ever taken much notice of Joy’s abilities on the sports field. But Ralph was talking, so Joy dragged her mind back to the present.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask you whether you’d ever skated before you lost your sight?’ he said in his deep, pleasant voice. And upon Joy’s shaking her head, he suggested that she might have gone roller skating in the past, or played some other game which demanded natural balance.

Joy, however, shook her head again. ‘Not that I can remember,’ she assured him. ‘But if there’s an ice rink in Liverpool, I’ll get there somehow, honest to God I will. I believe it’s the only sport that a blind person can play … if you can call it playing, that is.’

‘Ah, you’re from Liverpool, are you? I think there is an ice rink there; I know the city quite well as I work for a large firm and in the course of my business I’ve travelled pretty extensively. However, good though you are, you might find yourself in serious trouble on a rink which was open to the public. Young lads act the fool, young girls show off, and you’d not have a sighted partner to keep you out of trouble.’ He patted her hand again. ‘Or would you? It’s odd, isn’t it? We’re total strangers thrown together by the luck of the draw, so to speak, yet already we’re friends. And all I know about you is that you’re at the LSB and have a natural sense of balance.’ He laughed and pinched her cheek. ‘And what do you know about me, young lady? I know you can’t see me but I’ve been a volunteer at this shindig for a number of years and know that when someone loses one of their five senses the other four grow stronger and do their best to compensate.’

He paused, plainly waiting for a reply. Joy thought hard; taller than her by at least three inches and sturdy too, for her arm had not encircled his waist. She was pretty sure he was quite a lot older than her, at least ten years, which would make him twenty-four or thereabouts, and since he’d been a volunteer at the rink for years and had said he travelled for his firm, he was probably nearer thirty. She had noticed the faint scent of Brylcreem, but, though she thought hard, could discover no other clues. ‘Well, you’re taller than I am, with longer legs …’ she began, and when she finished he cried: ‘Bravo!’ and filled in what she had not been able to guess.

‘I’ve dark hair, a little long for fashion, brown eyes and a broken nose, the result of a collision on the ice, so be warned. But I see they are lining up for the Paul Jones; unless you want to be left out we’d better get across there right away.’

Joy had never been to a dance but she had heard Irene talking about the Grafton ballroom and knew that when a Paul Jones was announced, any dancer could tap another on the shoulder and they would at once change partners. She realised of course that that could not happen in this instance, but she got the general idea and hurried fearlessly on to the ice. She was determined to wring every last drop of enjoyment from this wonderful visit because it would probably be her only chance to come to the ice rink; she thought that a second year at the LSB would put an unfair burden on the family finances. After all, a girl of her age could earn money and she would not want Gillian to miss out on her college education just so that she, Joy, could stay on at the LSB. On the other hand, pupils usually remained at the school for the full three-year course and she knew her father would strain every nerve to keep her there.

Five minutes later a voice came over the tannoy, indicating that the free skating period would be rounded off by a dance session in which the more experienced of their guests could join. Joy waited expectantly as the music swirled then died, and the tannoy explained that the dance would be done without music since the dancers needed to be able to talk to one another.

‘Off you go; first pair, second pair …’ the voice instructed, and Joy soon found herself enjoying yet another new experience. Ralph counted the swirls clearly, and as they completed the third he let go of her hands. Before she had a chance to feel nervous other hands seized hers and another voice counted the swirls, then thanked her laughingly for the pleasure and handed her on to her next partner.

Joy revelled in every moment. She became so accustomed to the swirls that she counted in unison with her various partners, and actually began to recognise hands. Some were elderly, others very young. Some had short nails, others longer ones. Some she supposed must be manual workers since their hands were calloused, whilst others probably worked in shops or offices, since their skin was soft and well tended.

She had circled the rink twice before she became conscious that she was listening not just for the voices of her various partners, but for another sound as well; what was it? Oh! Someone was whistling the very same tune that her rescuer had whistled that evening in the shrubbery at the tech!

Listening hard, she lost concentration and for the first time slipped and fell, causing considerable consternation amongst her fellow skaters and bringing down several others. The whistling stopped abruptly and somebody, she could not tell who, bent down and lifted her to her feet. Before she could do more than catch her breath he said airily: ‘All in a day’s work; hang on to the rail and you’ll be all right.’ Joy began to stammer her thanks, but the whistler – she was sure it was the whistler – had gone.

By the time she had dusted herself down and assured all and sundry that she was unhurt, the session was over, the dancers were leaving the ice and Ralph was taking her to the changing bench, where she swapped her boots for her old shoes before heading towards the supper room.

Once settled on a comfortable chair with a plateful of goodies before her, she asked Ralph if he could identify the man who had been whistling when she fell. ‘I didn’t know anyone had been,’ Ralph said. ‘I was concentrating on the task in hand, which was more than you were doing, you bad girl! Fancy crashing into the couple next to you and causing mayhem, and you easily the best beginner I’ve ever encountered! Have you tried the cheese puffs? Mrs Lincoln makes them and won’t give anyone the recipe; they’re really good.’

‘No, I’ve not had one yet,’ Joy told him, curbing her impatience. ‘Look, this is really important to me, more important than cheese puffs. Way back last June I was rescued from a very nasty situation by a man I didn’t know, and have never met again to my knowledge. Because I’m blind I never saw his face, and since he left without giving me his name I’d no means of tracing him. Only before he came in answer to my shouts, I heard someone whistling the very tune that someone was whistling just now.’

Ralph shrugged; she could hear the movement and guessed that he thought her quest for the whistler both foolish and fruitless. ‘Coincidence,’ he said briefly. ‘If you’re desperate to find out, however, I could ask over the tannoy, only we aren’t supposed to whistle or hum or do anything which might make a skater lose concentration, so he might not own up. If you’d been badly hurt, we would all have been in trouble.’

‘Oh, it doesn’t really matter,’ Joy said regretfully. ‘If only I knew the name of the tune he was whistling! But I suppose it wouldn’t make much difference. Oh, and there was a very slight smell of lavender, but I think that was because he’d brushed against a lavender bush when he came running through the shrubbery.’

‘Probably,’ Ralph agreed. He put something into her hand. ‘This, my dear girl, is a cheese puff. When you’ve eaten it, we’ll go and take our seats for the carol singing.’

Joy meekly agreed to do as he said and presently, after all the special guests from the LSB had taken their places alongside their skating partners, the big doors at the back of the hall were flung open and those members of the public who had bought tickets for the carol singing joined them. Ralph told Joy that whilst they were eating, the staff had erected a platform on the ice for the orchestra. ‘They’re taking their places now,’ he said, and described the scene as the members of the orchestra crossed the ice with some trepidation and took their places on the platform. The conductor, he told her, was thin and aristocratic-looking, with white hair that waved down to his shoulders and flashing blue eyes; he was wearing a dinner jacket with a white frilled shirt and pointed patent leather shoes. ‘He will announce the carols, and someone is coming round with song sheets, written in Braille for you and neatly typed for me,’ Ralph said. ‘Not that you will need it; I’ve noticed on previous occasions that you girls do a great deal of memorising and know the words of most popular carols and Christmas songs off by heart.’

‘Yes, you’re right. I remember carols, poems and all sorts which I learned before I had my accident,’ Joy said in a low voice. She chuckled. ‘It’s a good thing I do, because Braille is awfully difficult; it will take me the entire year, or longer, to learn to read with my fingers.’

‘I can imagine …’ Ralph was beginning when the conductor began to speak.

‘We will start with a really well-known carol,’ he said in a light but pleasant baritone. ‘It is number three on your song sheets.’

‘It’s “We three kings”,’ Ralph whispered. ‘I’m sure you know it perfectly.’

The orchestra began to play, the voices around the rink swelled and soared and Joy began to sing. She had always been able to carry a tune, and was unselfconscious when the conductor said: ‘And the next carol will be sung by the young ladies from Blinkers alone. Sing up, girls!’

She heard herself singing gaily, heard Ralph say with almost unflattering astonishment: ‘By God, you can sing better than most of the so-called songsters one hears on the wireless,’ and rejoiced in the fact that she had perhaps a tiny talent.

In addition, she had heard the whistler again, which might mean that they were under the same roof. She could not recognise him, but perhaps he might recognise her. The very thought sent a trickle of excitement through her; oh, if only he would spot her, come over, speak! She told herself that she did not care if he was old or young, fat or thin, handsome or ugly. He had saved her once from a very frightening situation and just now from an embarrassing one, and on neither occasion had she been able to express her thanks properly. If only, oh, if only he would approach her! If he began to whistle once more when the carols were over, perhaps someone might point him out, and even though she would be unable to see him she could ask him if, way back last summer, he had been the person who had come to her aid.

She sang her way merrily through the rest of the concert, but only half her mind was engaged in singing. The other half, she felt, was willing her rescuer to come to ask her how she did and what she was doing here, for the last time they had met had been in Liverpool, a long way from an ice rink in London.

But when the music finished and the girls were lining up to return to their coach, hope died. No one had come near her, no one had whistled again, or spoken her name. As she thanked Ralph for all his help and climbed aboard the coach, she told herself severely that she was being quite ridiculous and must not let one solitary incident spoil her pleasure in that wonderful Christmas treat. It simply must have been a coincidence; what would her rescuer be doing in London if he lived in Liverpool? Come to that, what had he been doing in Liverpool if he lived in London? Unable to answer either question, she decided that when she got home the following day she would tell Gillian all about it, including the fact that someone in that vast auditorium had been whistling the very tune her summer rescuer had whistled before he had heard her shouts for help.