Theatre Shoes by Noel Streatfeild Page B

the stairs with a list in her hand.
    â€œGet in line, please, children, and come past me slowly.”
    Sorrel leaned a little way out of the line and looked up the passage for Mark. Boys were easy to pick out amongst that mass of black tunics and white socks. Mark had changed into his sandals, otherwise he was dressed exactly as he had started out in the morning. He saw Sorrel and gave her a grin. It was a cheerful grin, but she knew that inside he was feeling very much as she was, sort of sinking and wishing they were not so new.
    Winifred had stopped Miranda and told her to wait. She was standing at the foot of the stairs when Sorrel arrived at the head of the queue. Winifred laid a hand on Sorrel’s arm.
    â€œI expect you’ve met Miranda in the changing room.” She looked at Miranda. “I want you to look after Sorrel. You two are in the same form.”
    Miranda gaped at Winifred.
    â€œBut she’s younger than I am and she’s never done a thing.”
    Winifred spoke nicely, but you could not help feeling she was not sorry to be able to say what she did.
    â€œShe may be younger, but from the paper I set her she’s well up to the standard of work in the upper middle, and, as well, Madame has granted her the scholarship Pauline Fossil has given for dramatic work.”
    This last remark seemed to stun Miranda into silence. She caught Sorrel by the hand and pulled her up the stairs after her. It was only when they were outside the door of the practice room in which the upper middle worked that she suddenly stopped.
    â€œI didn’t know you could act, nobody told me.”
    â€œI don’t know that I can.”
    â€œWhat did Madame see you do?”
    Sorrel was just going to tell her and then she thought better of it. Perhaps Madame had been over-generous in granting her the scholarship. Perhaps she had not really seen very much talent, but if that was so she was certainly not going to let Miranda know about it. Like a distant light at the end of a long tunnel a thought shaped in Sorrel’s head. She had not ever thought of being an actress, but she was the daughter of one and the grandchild of an actor and an actress, and the great-grandchild of a very great actor indeed, if all they said about that old Sir Joshua was right. Anyway, there was every bit as much reason why she should be an actress as why Miranda should. Why should not she see if she could be good? If she could really be worth Pauline Fossil’s scholarship? She answered Miranda casually:
    â€œOh, just a bit of a play that she asked us to do. Is this the classroom?”
    In the next few weeks the children were so busy that they had no time to think if they liked London or the Academy, or living with Grandmother or anything else. Every morning they left the house at a quarter past eight to be ready and dressed for their first class at nine. They worked at lessons until twelve. From twelve till one Mark and Holly played games with the smaller children in the garden near the Academy, but Sorrel had special ballet classes with Winifred. At one o’clock they went down to the dining-room, which was in the basement, and had lunch, which was brought in vast containers from the British Restaurant. They were then sent out when it was fine, or, if it was wet, did what they liked indoors until two-thirty, they then did lessons until four-thirty. Sometimes they had singing or dancing or an acting class in the afternoon, and then they did extra lessons after tea. Normally, tea was at four-thirty, and from five till six-thirty they had special classes; ballet one night, tap dancing the next and on each night acting in either French or English, or a mime class.
    All day long, unless there was a special class, the girls worked in their black overalls, white socks and sandals; but if there was a special class, such as Sorrel’s extra ballet lesson before lunch, or Holly had an extra ballet lesson in the afternoon,