Dance While You Can Read online

  As I passed the sixth form common room Godfrey Barnes opened a window, gave a long wolf-whistle and asked if I’d like to go in for tea. I said I might pop back later, provided they didn’t make me take part in another debate on the economic and trade whatsits of Britain joining Europe. Last time, I’d said I thought England was already in Europe, and they’d all laughed so much that I’d had to get out the atlas next day to reassure myself that I was right.

  ‘How about telling us what you thought of Lady Chatterley’s Lover,’ Richard Lock called out. ‘You have read it, I take it?’

  ‘Bits of it,’ I admitted.

  ‘No prizes for guessing which bits. Did you know there are thirty fucks or fuckings, fourteen . . .’

  Time to walk on, I thought, suppressing a giggle. I’d got as far as the front entrance when the main door opened.

  ‘Miss!’

  ‘Yes, what is it?’ I said, trying out my haughtiest voice. I was never like that with anyone else, but for some reason with Alexander Belmayne I couldn’t help myself. He was in the fifth form, one of the most popular boys at the school, and without a doubt the best looking.

  ‘Er, it’s nothing, Miss, only that, well . . .’ He looked up at the sky as he sauntered towards me. ‘Isn’t it good to see the sun, Miss? Been jolly beastly weather lately, it’s much better here in the summer. Can get outdoors more.’

  I looked at him, knowing I was blushing, and unable to think of anything to say.

  ‘I was just wondering, Miss.’ He was looking straight into my eyes. ‘If you’re not intending to take Tonto back to the cottage, then me and a couple of the others were thinking about taking in a few holes on the golf course. Miss Angrid would never know, she’d think Tonto was with you. We’d take good care of it.’

  I took a step back, shaking my head. ‘I’m sorry, if it was mine it might be different, but . . .’

  He held up his hands for me to stop. ‘It’s OK, Miss, I understand. I shouldn’t even have asked.’ Then, smiling to himself, he turned back inside.

  I was glad he’d given in so easily as I didn’t know how long I could have held out against him, and it wasn’t until I started back down the drive that it suddenly dawned on me: there was nothing to stop them taking the cart anyway. And if it got damaged . . . It would be better all round if I took Tonto with me, and at the same time I’d show Alexander Belmayne I wasn’t quite the idiot he took me for.

  Reversing Tonto out of its space, I flicked the switch that shot out the little orange indicator arms at the side. The third form had installed them about a month ago, but unfortunately they either came out together or not at all. I shifted the gear lever to go forward. It must have been two or three seconds before I realised I was still going backwards. I pressed my foot on the brake. Nothing happened. I turned round to see if anything was in my path only just in time to avoid a collision with the Headmaster’s brand new Rover. It was a narrow miss, and I was still on the move. Then suddenly the machine roared and I was hurtling round the car park.

  Just missing the ha-ha, I shot round – and to my horror saw Mr Lear’s red Ford Popular coming towards me. I yanked the wheel but it was too late. Tonto gouged itself right along the wing of the car. After that, things happened so fast I didn’t know where I was until I shot out of the seat and skidded across the gravel, tearing my stockings and scattering the contents of my bag. Tonto, tipping on its side, groaned to a stop. I covered my face with my hands, taking deep breaths to try and steady myself.

  A loud tapping brought me to my senses. Two floors up a cluster of faces was pressed against a window, every one of them laughing fit to burst. Someone waved, and suddenly I was so angry I wanted to scream.

  As I ran into the school, tears streaming down my face, I bumped straight into Alexander Belmayne. ‘You!’ I screeched. ‘It was you, wasn’t it? You didn’t want to borrow the cart at all, you just wanted to make a fool of me. Well, you’re going to pay for this. Now get out of my way!’

  ‘Look . . .’

  ‘Don’t touch me! It’s too late for apologies.’

  Miss Angrid’s face turned white with anger when I told her what had happened, and how I had been tricked into using the golf-cart. ‘Yes, that’s Belmayne’s style all right. Come with me,’ she barked and marched me straight off to the Headmaster.

  Mr Lorimer’s first concern was for his Rover. When he found I’d managed to avoid it, he was sympathy itself – at least, as far as I was concerned. ‘Get Belmayne here,’ he snapped. Miss Angrid bustled out of the study, and all of a sudden I felt hot and dizzy, and started to shake.

  ‘Sit down, Miss Sorrill.’ He waved me to the brown leather Chesterfield. ‘It must have been quite a shock for you. Can I get you something:’

  ‘No, no,’ I muttered, trying to pull my skirt down over my grazed knees and cover the holes in my stockings.

  He picked up the phone and buzzed through to his secretary. ‘Find Mr Lear and have him come to my study as soon as he can. He should be sitting prep for the fourth form.’

  We waited in silence. Mr Lorimer, in his gown and grey suit, stood with his back to me, staring out of the window. I was acutely aware that my hair was loose around my shoulders, and tried to tuck it into the collar of my coat.

  At last Miss Angrid came in with Alexander Belmayne.

  ‘Thank you, Miss Angrid,’ Mr Lorimer said, walking around his desk, ‘that will be all.’ Miss Angrid looked disappointed, but no one argued with the Head, so she turned and closed the door behind her.

  ‘Belmayne,’ Mr Lorimer looked the boy straight in the eye, ‘you know why you have been summoned here?’

  Alexander’s face was white. ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Were you responsible for Miss Sorrill’s mishap in the golf-cart, Belmayne?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Miss Sorrill seems to think you were.’

  Alexander’s eyes were fixed on the floor.

  ‘As a prefect of this school you don’t need me to tell you that the punishment for this irresponsible display and the resulting damage could be expulsion?’

  I gasped, and Alexander’s head snapped up. He dashed the dark curls out of his eyes and glared back at the Head. The threat had only roused him. I could see that the Head would have no easy victory.

  And so it proved. Alexander was ordered to name names, but he refused, and consistently denied he’d had anything to do with the golf-cart. It was clear the Head didn’t believe him, and the interrogation started all over again when Mr Lear came in. All the time my eyes were riveted on Alexander’s face. He didn’t look at me once as his grey eyes flashed and the shadow on his chin seemed to get darker as he fought to control his temper.

  I don’t know how long we were in there, but it felt like hours. Alexander handed over his prefect’s badge and Mr Lear laid a cane on the desk. In their eyes Alexander might be just a boy, but he was taller than both of them, and already filling out into the man he would soon become. My heart went out to him as I realised what this was doing to his pride.

  In the end Mr Lorimer drove me back to the cottage. ‘I shall speak to Lord Belmayne before I make a decision about what to do with the boy,’ he said, when I asked what would happen to Alexander. ‘In the meantime Mr Lear will take charge.’

  The next time I saw Alexander he was on his way to bed with the rest of the fifth form. I stood on the surgery landing watching them pass. He didn’t look at me, and neither did anyone else.

  ‘Pity it had to be Belmayne,’ Mrs Jenkins said, as she turned over a page of the newspaper.

  I looked up from the crossword puzzle I was doing. The Latin teacher was between lessons and had come to my surgery for a cup of tea. ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘I’d say it’s a pity it had to be anyone at all. I mean, it was dangerous.’

  ‘True, but more of a pity it was Belmayne.’ She pushed her empty cup across the table. ‘Of course, it’s your own fault. All this silent treatment, I mean. You let the boys think you were their friend, didn’t y
ou? Shouldn’t wonder if you don’t actually encourage them to misbehave sometimes – what about that snowball fight you became embroiled in three weeks ago, most undignified. I know you’re young, Elizabeth, but you have a position to maintain – and buying the boys Brylcream when you go to the village so’s they can look like Elvis Presley is ridiculous. Lucky Miss Angrid put a stop to it before Mr Lorimer found out. You can’t pretend to be one of them and then go and report the very one they all idolise. They’ll never forgive you, you know, at least, not until Alexander does. I saw him earlier, on his way out to the rugby pitch. Must have been quite a thrashing Mr Lear gave him, I could still see the marks.’

  ‘But it was almost a week ago!’ I said.

  ‘Precisely. Mr Lear is very fond of that car of his. Unfortunately the Lord Chief Justice seems to have rather a lot on his plate right now, if this article is anything to go by,’ she went on.

  ‘What’s the Lord Chief Justice got to do with it?’

  She looked down her nose at me. ‘Surely you know the Lord Chief Justice is Alexander’s father.’ She went back to the paper. ‘Those damned gypsy types! Here,’ she passed the newspaper as she got to her feet, ‘read that. It might give you some insight into what kind of man Lord Belmayne is – and his son is going to be.’

  I wasn’t going to show her I was interested. I waited for her to leave before I picked up the newspaper.

  The Lord Chief Justice, Lord Belmayne, is again locked in bitter conflict with the family of gypsy murderer Alfred Ince. The family have always claimed that Ince, sentenced to death for the notorious ‘farm murder’ in 1954, was innocent. Lord Belmayne, who presided over the long and much-publicised trial, at which several members of the Ince family were arrested for contempt of court, has since been the victim of continuing harassment.

  This is not the first time the Ince family have taken up residence on the Belmayne estate. Some weeks ago there were violent scenes when Lord Belmayne had them evicted from his land. More recently, Belmayne property, in London and Suffolk has been subjected to acts of vandalism, and Lady Belmayne is said to be suffering from shock following an incident in which a brick was hurled through the window of her Belgrave Square home.

  According to local sources, the gypsies arrived back on the Suffolk estate in the early hours of yesterday morning. Lord Belmayne, whose outspoken comments on the trial in South Africa of African National Congress leader Nelson Mandela have recently won him considerable publicity, spoke to me shortly afterwards. ‘These people are causing anguish to my family and my staff. I will do everything in my power to have them removed.’ It has been suggested by his estate manager that acts of perversion involving under-age girls and boys, are being practised at the gypsy camp, but Lord Belmayne refused to comment. In a heated speech in the House of Lords on Thursday he once again . . .

  There was a knock on the door. ‘Sorry to bother you.’ It was Mr Ellery, the chemistry master. ‘A bit of a burn to the old fingers in the lab. Should be wise to it by now, of course, but they all think they’re the first. Loathsome little creatures they can be at times, third formers. They heat up a glass, you see, and leave it on my desk for me to pick up.’

  I led him over to the sink and put his hand under the running cold water then went to the medicine chest to find a cotton bandage. ‘It’ll be a bit painful for a while,’ I said, as I dried his fingers.

  ‘No matter. I’ll live.’ He looked down at my desk and with his other hand pulled the newspaper round to read the article about Lord Belmayne. ‘Unlucky,’ he said after a couple of minutes. ‘Still, the press is usually much harder on him than this.’

  ‘Have you met him?’ I asked.

  ‘Several times. His son is here at the school.’ He looked at my face. ‘But, of course, you already know that. I gather he’s coming down on Sunday, after chapel.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Cheer up. Young Belmayne will get no more than he deserves. He could have caused a very nasty accident.’

  ‘But he didn’t,’ I said, ‘and now I just wish the whole thing would go away. I was getting off to a good start before all this happened.’

  ‘Mmm, shame,’ he said, making me feel worse. ‘Just a pity it was Belmayne.’

  ‘That’s what Mrs Jenkins said,’ I muttered.

  ‘Well, boys will be boys. I’m afraid you’re going to have to get used to it if you want to survive at Foxton’s. Now, I’d better be getting back. Heaven only knows what havoc they’ve wreaked in my absence.’

  Absent-mindedly I watched him go. The door was almost closed behind him, when suddenly he came back in. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask. Do you play bridge, Miss Sorrill?’

  I looked up. ‘Bridge?’

  ‘Just a thought,’ he shrugged, then left.

  The following Sunday was an exeat, so straight after chapel most of the boys went off to spend the day with their parents. After lunch Miss Angrid and I roamed the empty dormitories looking for sweets and comics before she went back to the cottage, leaving me alone in my surgery. I’d been trying for days to think of a way I could approach Alexander and see if we could put the Tonto incident behind us, but he looked so hostile whenever I saw him that I couldn’t seem to pluck up the courage. Mr Ellery, whom I’d been to the Bistro with the night before, had reminded me that I was a member of staff, and as such could call him into my surgery any time I liked – but it wasn’t as easy as that. I’d been nervous of Alexander ever since I’d arrived, even though during my first week he’d gone out of his way to make me feel welcome. After that he’d left me to my own devices, and secretly I’d been glad. There was something about him that made me feel self-conscious and awkward.

  I was going over all this in my mind when suddenly the door opened and he came in. ‘Alexander!’ I felt myself blush to the roots of my hair.

  It was plain that he was in a filthy mood. ‘Mr Lorimer would like to see you in his study,’ he said, and without waiting, he turned and walked out.

  I knew who the grand-looking gentleman was the instant I walked in, and felt myself shrinking inside. ‘Please, sit down, Miss Sorrill,’ said Mr Lorimer. ‘Lord Belmayne has asked to speak to you, so I shall leave you together.’

  Lord Belmayne was a handsome man, older than he appeared, I guessed, but with a magnificent head of grey hair, and piercing grey eyes. I could see straight away where Alexander got his looks from – in this case, angry ones.

  ‘I believe I owe you an apology for the childish and irresponsible behaviour of my son,’ he said, barely looking at me. ‘I am only thankful that you sustained no injury.’

  His presence was so overpowering, his manner so cold, that when I opened my mouth to speak, nothing came out.

  When he was satisfied that I wasn’t going to say anything, he went on. ‘Rest assured that Alexander has been sufficiently punished, both by the school and by myself, and I trust nothing like this will happen again.’ He glanced towards the door, then, clutching his hands behind his back, he walked to the window. I had been dismissed.

  – 3 –

  As term went on my life became more and more of a misery. Apart from tasteless practical jokes involving dead mice and spiders and the stealing of my underwear from the laundry room – later found wrapped around Arthur Foxton’s head – none of the boys took any notice of me. They just filed past on their way to bed, and at meal-times they were respectful but silent. All sickness was reported to Miss Angrid, while I sat in my surgery hoping someone would come in; but apart from Mr Ellery, no one did.

  It was he who told me that Alexander’s punishment from his father was to miss his skiing holiday with the family at Easter. As the walls of the room Alexander shared with Henry Clive were plastered with posters of skiers, I could see how severe a punishment that was for him. Well, good, was all I could say – it was less than he deserved! That was how I felt when Mr Ellery told me, but my mood swung without warning, and instead of the outraged, injured party, I became again the junior matron who remembered how
kind Alexander had been when she’d first arrived and known no one . . . .

  By the end of term I was so unhappy I decided I had better leave. I would go away for the Easter holiday, and simply not come back. But on the last day I knew I couldn’t walk out on Miss Angrid without telling her.

  She listened while I explained how my friend Janice kept writing to me about the great time she was having in London, how she was combining nursing with a bit of parttime modelling and had hundreds of boyfriends – I blushed when I admitted that I’d never even had one. ‘You see,’ I said, ‘I keep reading in all the magazines what people my age are doing, and I’m not doing any of it. The only thing I’ve got that shows I’m a bit up-to-date is the poster of George Harrison on my bedroom wall, and a Mary Quant minidress I sent away for. I know I should have given you more notice, and if you like, I’ll come back until you find someone else. Janice’s cousin has got a shop in Carnaby Street, I might be able to work there. It’s not because I don’t like it here, or anything like that, everyone’s been really nice to me, it’s just, well, I don’t think I can stay any longer. I miss London, you see.’

  ‘But really,’ Miss Angrid said, ‘you’re going because of the boys?’

  I looked away. I should have known she’d see through all that.

  She gave my hand a squeeze. ‘Would you believe me if I told you all this will blow over?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘It will, you know. They’re behaving childishly, of course they are, but you have to remember that’s exactly what they are – children. And as for Alexander, well, he’s a popular boy with a lot of pride, but he’ll get over it.’

  ‘He won’t! He hates me!’