Tennis Shoes (10 page)

Nicky, who never minded where she went or who with, was quite happy to be taken with Marion Hawthorne and a whole lot of other children to Windlesham in a perfectly strange car. Jim would rather have stayed with Susan, but he did not really mind being packed into an old Ford with a whole lot of boys to Pinton. Susan, however, was quite sick with horror at finding herself collected, together with Nancy Green, and taken to Fulford Manor. On the drive she cheered up, for Nancy Green, who proved to be rather nice and exactly six months older than she was, said:

‘I'm awfully glad we are going to Fulford to start with, aren't you?'

‘Why?' Susan asked.

‘Well,' Nancy confessed, ‘my father and mother have brought me over. I'd much rather they didn't see me play. I hate people watching, don't you?'

This was what cheered Susan. She was delighted to discover such a kindred spirit. She agreed heartily that she, too, hated being looked at.

As a matter of fact they did have an audience, because there were only two courts at Fulford, and all the people who were waiting to play sat round and watched.

Susan won her match. She was a far more promising player than Nancy. But this would not have helped her as she played badly from sheer nerves. Fortunately for her Nancy played badly from nerves too. Nancy's badly was very bad indeed.

Jim was beaten. He was not a bit surprised. He had watched the match which brought the boy who played against him into the second round. He was older than Jim, about thirteen, and the best player there. He did, in fact, end by winning the tournament. Jim came on to the court feeling beaten, and therefore played atrociously. He felt very glad his father had not been there to see him.

Nicky, at Windlesham, enjoyed herself. The people who lived in the house sat round the courts in deck-chairs watching the games. The girls who were not playing watched too. Nicky was by far the youngest player. Marion Hawthorne was the oldest. She would, in fact, be fourteen the next day.

When their match was called Nicky jumped down on to the court. Marion, who was big and heavy for her age, lumbered after her. The grown-up people sitting round laughed, and called them ‘David and Goliath.' The girls who were watching called out: ‘Don't kill her, Marion.' They said to each other that they hoped the baby would be allowed to win a game.

Nicky had no idea until that moment how helpful she would find an audience. She knew all through her that every one would be pleased at each point she made. She could feel them hoping that she would do well. It was Marion's service. She skipped to her place.

Marion served her first ball. Nicky's eye was glued to it. She returned it perfectly. She got well down to it, and put it far out of Marion's reach just inside the baseline. There was a roar of applause and a great deal of whispering.

Nicky was beaten. She must have been. Marion was quite good and had played regularly for over four years. But Nicky, considering the short time she had been at it and her age, was a marvel. From that first crack of applause she was lit up. She remembered all she had been taught. She felt quick and light; not herself at all.

The players were asked to bring picnic lunches. Tea would be provided. Mrs. Heath had laid the family lunch under a tree. Dr. Heath helped by opening the ginger-beer. The car from Pinton came back first. All the boys scattered to find their families. Jim looked a bit hang-dog when he saw his father.

‘I was beaten, dad.'

Dr. Heath went on pouring out drinks.

‘Well, what could you expect in your first tournament? Have some ginger-beer.'

Jim took the ginger-beer.

‘I played rottenly. You see, he played just before. I knew he was much better than me.'

‘Ought to have given you a good game.'

‘Didn't.' Jim took a gulp of his drink. ‘Just made me feel a fool.'

‘Have a sandwich,' said Mrs. Heath. ‘You've got your doubles this afternoon. Perhaps you'll do better then.'

Susan got out of the Fulford Manor car with shining eyes. She raced up to her father.

‘Daddy, I've got through two rounds. The first one I played rottenly and I ought to have been beaten, only the girl I played against played rottenlier.' She turned to Jim. ‘How did you do?'

Jim made a face.

‘Beaten. Hope I don't let you down this afternoon.'

‘Doesn't matter.' Susan sat beside him and took her ginger-beer. ‘My goodness, I'm thirsty.'

Nicky got out of the Windlesham car feeling very cocky indeed. After her match everybody had talked to her. All the grown-ups and all the other girls. She felt her family was very lucky to know her. She came over to them. They were talking and did not see her for a moment. She coughed.

‘Have none of you noticed that Nicky Heath is here?'

Jim looked at Susan.

‘I bet she's won.'

‘As a matter of fact'—Nicky sat down and took her glass of ginger-beer—‘if you want to know, I didn't. But everybody said I was most remarkable.'

Jim looked sick.

‘Everybody is very stupid to say things like that to you. And anyway I don't suppose you were.'

‘I was.' Nicky almost sang. ‘I was. I felt it all over.'

Her father looked at her.

‘That's enough of you for a bit. Have a sandwich. Susan's won two rounds. Now, there is something to crow about.'

Nicky felt as though a pin had been dug into her. It was her day. Nobody ought to take it from her.

‘You haven't?'

Susan's mouth was full.

‘Yes, I have.'

‘Oh!' Nicky said no more. She ate her lunch in silence. She was not exactly jealous of Susan. But somehow her having done so well took the excited feeling away.

Jim and Susan were knocked out in the first round of the doubles. They came up against a brother and sister who played a lot together. They did not disgrace themselves, though. They took the second set, and got three games in the last. They played at The Grange. Their father, who watched them, was very pleased.

Susan went off in another car after that to Windlesham. She did not come back until nearly five. She was terribly excited. She had won her semi-finals.

The finals were played at The Grange. All the other players and all the grown-ups gathered round to watch. Susan was tired, but buoyed up by the excitement of winning. She had played all day (except for the doubles match) away from The Grange. There had been a small audience all the time, but there were two courts for them to watch, and she had known no one, so she had not been shy. Even now she was not thinking much about the audience. Except for the family she knew no one, so they would not bother to look at her.

The other finalist was a girl of thirteen called Miriam. She was tall, dark, and looked confident. She knew everybody, and walked about, talking first to one group and then to another, before the match started.

Miriam and Susan walked on to the court together. Susan was new to almost everybody there. Besides only being a visitor to the neighbourhood, she had, of course, played away most of the day. The result was that the moment she appeared everybody started to talk in a half-whisper to their next-door neighbour. They asked who she was. They said how pretty she was. They said how well so small a girl must have played to have got into the finals. Those girls who had been beaten by her told their parents that this was the pretty girl they had told them about. In fact, there was a perfect buzz of conversation.

Nicky would have been enchanted. She would have felt that it was all friendly talk, that everybody was liking her and hoping she would win. Susan did not take the talk that way at all. She felt it was about her, but she took it she was being laughed at. Something must be wrong. Perhaps the elastic in the leg of her knickers had broken and one leg was hanging down. Had she torn her frock? What were they all looking at her for? She wished she could run away and hide.

Unable to forget her audience for a second, Susan played badly. She was so self-conscious that she grew stiff. She missed balls that at any other time she would have taken easily. Miriam won the match with the loss of only two games.

Susan felt ashamed of herself. She came very apologetically to her father. He, however, laughed.

‘You must get over minding a crowd, Sukey.'

The man who owned the house came up to her.

‘Well done, my dear. You must come and get your prize.'

‘My prize!' Susan looked amazed. She had forgotten there were prizes, and anyway would not have expected to get anything as she had not won.

She won a beautiful clock. Her name was called out and she went up to a table to fetch it. She felt shy and wished one of the others would have fetched it for her. But all the people were nice, and clapped so much that it made her feel much better about having played badly.

When they got home Susan and her clock had quite a reception.

Grandfather said he would take it into Salisbury in the morning and have her name and the date of the tournament engraved on it.

Pinny said she should make a point of always cleaning it herself. It was no good letting Annie handle a lovely clock like that.

Even Agag, on being shown it, gave it a respectful lick.

In fact, it was a very proud evening.

CHAPTER VII

THE CIRCUS

It was a good thing the summer holidays were so nice, for the Christmas holidays were awful.

They looked as if they would be particularly good. There were quite a lot of invitations to parties. There were tickets for the pantomime, from grandfather. There was an enormous pile of unopened parcels in the hall.

Jim had not taken a great deal of interest in the Christmas rush. He came home with a cold which made him feel simply rotten. He hoped it would get better, but it did not. On Christmas Eve his temperature went up. By that night he had measles.

Measles is always a hateful thing to have. Jim thought nobody could be more miserable than he was on Christmas Day. He was wrong. By the third of January Susan was so ill that she ceased to care what anybody did to her. They could wash her, make her swallow things, turn her over, and she just gave in, too wretched to resist. Two days after that Nicky started a most suspicious cold, which was clearly measles by the next afternoon. Even while they were deciding Nicky was certainly a case Pinny heard David give a cough.

‘I don't like the sound of that,' she said.

She was right. It was measles. David had it worse than all the others because it went to his ears.

The whole holidays were spent being ill. Jim went back to school a week late, and Susan and Nicky eleven days. It was not much comfort missing school because they were in the cross convalescent stage. For Jim and Susan there was one bright spot. Partly because everybody was busy nursing David and they needed air, and partly because they were considered old enough, they were allowed to go about alone.

The London you see when you go where you are taken is quite a different place to the London you discover when you go about by yourself.

Jim and Susan were hampered by their lack of money for fares. In the ordinary way they could walk a lot, but now their legs had after-measles wobble. All the same, once they were allowed out alone they never spent a minute indoors except for meals. They had to be back for tea and were not supposed to go out again. But between breakfast and lunch, and lunch and tea, they travelled miles.

Twice they went up to the West End. They loitered about looking at the boats on the Thames. They fed the pigeons in Trafalgar Square with some maize a man gave them. They looked at Buckingham Palace and wondered what the sentries would do if they tried to walk through the gates. They stood and watched some acrobats entertain a matinée queue. In fact, they just meandered round getting the feel and smell of the place.

‘Next holidays, Sukey,' Jim said, ‘we'll go to the other parts. I want to see the docks. And there are exhibitions and things which don't cost much. We can just go.'

Susan sighed with satisfaction. She had always hated the idea of growing up. There was something frightening about it. Yet now there were advantages she had never imagined.

‘It's odd. I never thought of us doing this. Of course, I knew we could go where we liked when we grew up, but not now, somehow.'

Jim considered a moment.

‘I suppose it's the measles, and David needing looking after. Anyway, it's luck.'

Their luck did not hold every day. Sometimes they were told to take Nicky with them. Having Nicky meant just a walk. Walks were all right, and they took Agag, which cheered things up. But being three spoilt talking.

They tried not to let Nicky feel she was not wanted, but they did not succeed very well, and this made her deliberately annoying. The walks were usually one long argument.

‘Don't walk in the road, Nicky.'

‘Thank you, Jim. It's kind of you to bother about me.'

‘It's not you I'm bothering about, it's Agag. If you walk in the road he does too. He might get run over.'

Susan, anxious to avoid a row, would break in. She and Jim would talk about something for a bit. Then suddenly Nicky would start to sing. Jim would glare at her.

‘Do shut up! You can't make that noise in the road.'

Nicky would stop singing for a moment.

‘If nobody talks to me I must do something.' Then she would sing again.

Or, at other times, if the twins talked to each other, she would have a loud conversation with Agag.

‘It's very nice for us, Agag, having each other, as nobody else speaks to us. You'd hardly think we were their sister and their dog, would you?'

They were all quite glad when they were clear of infection and allowed to go back to school. It had been a wretched Christmas and was best forgotten.

The Easter holidays were a different matter.

The twins' birthday came at the beginning of the summer term. This year they had an early present. They had a letter from grandfather on the first day of the holidays.