Free Young May Moon by Sheila Newberry Page A

remarked to May at practice a few days later. She sounded displeased.
    May blushed. ‘It wasn’t my idea – I didn’t contact them.’
    ‘Your so-called friends, I suppose!’
    ‘Mum, the reporter mentioned you. Said I was the daughter of the fiery Spanish dancer Carmen Maria Rivera, now dazzling audiences at the end-of-the-pier show. Why did they use Carlos’s name?’
    ‘There’s nothing Spanish about
Jolley
!’ Carmen flashed back. Then she gave a conciliatory smile. ‘It was a good picture of you, though. One for my scrapbook. How is your photograph album coming along?’
    ‘I am collecting the first prints today from the chemist,’ May said proudly.
    Carlos emerged from his corner, carrying his guitar. ‘I meet you back at the hotel for breakfast,’ he said to Carmen. He gave his customary nod to May. ‘You were at your best today,’ he complimented her. ‘Your big moment will soon come.’
    ‘Don’t hurry away,’ Carmen said to May, after he had gone. ‘I have something I must tell you.’
    May had a feeling that she knew what this might be. Her mother had mentioned the fact that she had spoken to Aunt Min on the telephone recently. Did Carmen intend to get custody of Pomona, and to take her back to Spain? At the beginning of September their summer season would be at an end. Pomona was due to return to her old school, and they’d be home with Aunt Min and Grandpa. It would also be the parting of the ways with the O’Flahertys, whose contract with the little theatre was almost over. There would nomore shows until Christmas. Carmen and Carlos would be on the move, too.
    ‘I must get ready for my show soon,’ she reminded Carmen. ‘And as I said, I have my snaps to collect first.’
    ‘Aunt Min will not allow me to take Pomona back with me. Perhaps it is just as well, because I have not the time or patience for one so young. It is different for you. You may decide for yourself. You have the chance to make a good career from dancing, although you have a great deal still to learn. You would be the young Carmen, not the young May Moon as your father called you, against my wishes.’
    ‘Do I really have a choice?’ May demanded. ‘How can I … abandon my little sister, she’d never forgive me!’ Unconsciously, she used the word
abandon
, as Pomona had, dramatically, the night the puppies were born.
    She expected a spirited response, but was taken aback when Carmen’s eyes filled with tears, which she furiously blinked away, smudging the kohl she had used to enhance them. ‘May, I thought of you both every single day, while I was away.’
    ‘Why didn’t you contact us then?’ May demanded.
    ‘Your father would not allow it. My letters were returned.’
    ‘I didn’t know that.’
    ‘He was bitter, and I cannot blame him. I was not a good wife. I was a reluctant mother. But I did – oh, I
do
love you! I thought I could make it up to you. What future is there for you here? The economy of the country is in decline. What qualifications do you have – only those of the Punch and Judy. This is fun in the summer, but what do you do in the winter?’
    This was the conclusion that May herself had reluctantly come to. ‘I intend to go back to school – like Pomona! Well, to a secretarial college, if I can. Dad left us fifty pounds each; he wanted us to be as independent as possible. I’ll be allowed to use that to pay for training now that I’m sixteen.’
    ‘You would prefer to be a typist, rather than a dancer?’
    ‘I didn’t say that. But I need to be able to support my sister.
She
’s clever enough, I think, to go to university.’
    ‘Then my plea falls on deaf ears?’
    ‘Oh, Mum, no! It means a lot to me to know you didn’t forget us. I think I can understand and forgive you now. You and Dad – you weren’t suited; you made each other unhappy. Neither of you was to blame for that. One day, I’ll visit you in Spain, I promise! Dad never encouraged us to think of ourselves as