Free The Lotus House by Katharine Moore Page A

careful, you can come and play with the little house by yourself sometimes. I expect Saturdays would be best, when you don’t go to school.”
    “Thank you,” said Harriet, “thank you very much.”
    When the afternoon was over and Harriet had gone, Letty felt pleased on the whole, for Harriet, in spite of her rejection of the whole Golightly saga, had responded satisfactorily to the doll’s house in every other way and she felt herself warmed towards the child.
    From then onwards Harriet spent most Saturday mornings playing with the little house. She had begun, as every child will do, by rearranging all the furniture, and then settled down to her own particular inventions. The inhabitants led very humdrum lives compared to those they had enjoyed in the past. Letty, though she took care never to interfere or to stay in the room for long, caught snatches from time to time and soon learnt the new names of the late Golightlys: “And how are you this morning, my dear Mrs Royce, and how is your dear husband, Mr Royce, and your darling little daughter Harriet?”
    Selina, thought Letty, had been a child who could afford fantasy, the wilder the better: “Oh, no, no, no, Ros, I don’t want them real.”
    But now there were no more burglaries or elopements or fires or accidents.
    “You shall have this big wardrobe in your bedroom, Harriet, for all the lovely dresses I have bought you. No, of course you need not go to school tomorrow, it’s my birthday. Your Mummy couldn’t have a birthday with herdarling little daughter at school. We’ll ask Daddy to come home early and all have a lovely party together …” Or, another time: “Look, Harriet darling, Cook has made this cake especially for you, your favourite chocolate icing — would you like to ask your best friend Ben to tea — we’ll send a piece up to grandfather, shall we? He’ll love to see you — he says you grow more and more like me every day …”
    These and like snippets of doll’s house conversation overheard on Saturday mornings often made Letty Sanderson feel a little uneasy.
    Harriet’s school took music seriously. This was because it had been lucky enough to find Miss Johnson, the head of the music department, who was an enthusiast and who believed that everyone, given the chance, could develop some measure of musical appreciation and ability. She started all the younger children as soon as they came with singing, recorders, cymbals, whistles and drums. Harriet looked forward to the music sessions and to her astonishment it wasn’t long before she had found that she was singled out for praise. One day Miss Johnson told her to stay behind when the class was over and asked her if she would like to have special lessons besides playing in the band. Had she ever thought of learning to play a violin for instance? They wanted some more violin players in the junior orchestra.
    Harriet did not speak but her tell-tale face gave Miss Johnson her answer.
    “I think you would like it,” she said.
    “Yes,” said Harriet, “yes, I would, but I would rather learn the piano, please.” Since coming to live at the Lotus House she had often listened to Andrew playing his piano and sometimes it gave her a prickly feeling down her spine which was queer but splendid. Her favourite piece of furniture in the doll’s house had always been the little piano and the doll, Harriet, could play it quite well.
    “Very well, the piano it shall be,” said Miss Johnson, who believed on the whole in putting a pupil’s wishes before her own, “I’ll write to your mother.”
    And a day or two later Margot had the letter.
    “The school seem to think Harriet is musical,” she said to Andrew that evening. “They suggest that she might have piano lessons.”
    “Good for Harriet,” said Andrew.
    “Well, I don’t know so much, the fees are high enough as it is — I can’t afford frills.”
    “Music isn’t a frill,” said Andrew.
    “Sorry, darling, but you know how