Free Theatre Shoes by Noel Streatfeild Page B

Fossil?”
    Alice looked surprised.
    â€œWhat, a sister of Pauline? No, I never knew she had one.”
    Holly was furious.
    â€œBut she’s every bit as important, more important I should think. Madame said so.”
    Alice gave a tolerant smile.
    â€œOh well, Madame’s got a bee in her bonnet. I expect this Posy dances.”
    â€œShe does,” said Sorrel. “I think she’s a star like Judy Garland in ‘The Wizard of Oz,’ only she mostly dances.”
    Alice laughed good-temperedly.
    â€œNo harm in thinking, but I don’t mind telling you that a film star that old Alice hasn’t heard about isn’t shooting very far.”
    That night, and on the way to the Academy the next morning, the children talked a lot about the Fossil sisters. It seemed so extraordinary to think that they had once been just ordinary children like themselves, and the most comforting part of it was that it did seem that the Fossil sisters had been no more anxious to be trained for the stage than they were. They, too, had only taken it up at first because of money. Of course, the Fossils had not really been like they were. Posy must always have been able to dance, because, even if Alice had never heard of her, they trusted Madame when she said that she was a very great dancer indeed. Each of them adopted their own Fossil, as it were, and talked about them as if they were close friends.
    â€œI bet Pauline would be sorry for me,” said Sorrel, “having to go on my first day to the Academy in just shorts and a blouse. I bet she started with all the proper things.”
    Holly ran her fingers through her hair.
    â€œIt’s funny, Posy and me both having curls. It makes us alike, somehow.”
    Mark was rather grand about Petrova.
    â€œShe’s the only sensible one. Pretty good for a girl to be a pilot. She’s the only one I’d like to know.”
    Hannah had implored Alice to think of some other way by which they could get to Russell Square, except on the escalator, but Alice only laughed and refused to treat Hannah’s fears seriously.
    â€œMay as well learn first as last. You can’t live in London and never get on a moving staircase.”
    â€œIt’s not Christian,” Hannah said stubbornly. “We were meant to move our feet for ourselves, not have them dragged down the stairs for us.”
    Alice giggled.
    â€œIf my plates of meat,” she winked at the children, “feet to you, had to carry the weight yours do, I’d thank my stars for anything that would move me along, without my having to trouble myself.” Then her face grew serious. “All the same, we can’t have you going every morning with the children. Sorrel’s gone eleven; she’s old enough to lead the troops, and you and I will find plenty to do here. Half my morning’s gone getting us up, and I’ll be glad of an extra pair of hands, I don’t mind telling you.”
    Sorrel was a little startled to hear they were going about alone in London, but there was so much that was startling going on that it did not make the big sensation that it once would have. After she and Mark had dragged Hannah on to the escalator for the second morning, she and Mark agreed that it was really a very good thing that Hannah was not going to do it every day, for after she had been on it she did look terribly like a large pale-green jelly that had forgotten to set.
    The first day in any new school is confusing. Everybody else knows where to be, and what they ought to be doing, and new children feel as if they are running very fast and never being quite sure they are in the right place at the right time. At the Academy there were such a lot of things that the children could not take part in properly, because they did not know any of the work that the other children did merely as a matter of routine.
    Their great prop and stay was Winifred; she was an explaining sort of person and