magnolia-buildings

"This education of women is a lot of nonsense,"1 said Dad. "The chaps at the 'Cock' 2 were saying so last week."

"They are afraid that their wives will know a bit too much,"3 said Mum laughing.

But Doreen was not listening. She had suddenly begun to blush. A terrible, hot shame filled her, for now she was beginning to remember what she had written in the essay, all her private thoughts and dreams. What would the examiners, those cold, critical people think of her? They must think she was a silly idiot! How awful! They would laugh at her essay, and she would certainly fail.

Mum looked at her daughter. "Well, you won't have to do any more work now, Dor. That's one good thing. You'll be able to sit and watch the T. V. and no nonsense."4

Chapter V

GLAMOUR

All through February, Ally was trying to attain glamour. She bought a bottle of nail varnish and she manicured her nails. The only trouble was that with so much washing up 5 the varnish did not stay on very well. All the time she had to put on new coats of varnish; but the dirt got in between them, and that made her nails look peculiar. She hadn't enough money to buy any varnish remover.

"Looks like blood on your nails," said Dad with distaste. But Ally didn't give in. She went to bed at night with a lot of pins in her naturally curly hair. She did that "to

preserve the set",6 as she said. But while she slept, the pins fell out and Doreen complained that it was like sharing a bed with a hedgehog.7 Ally also spent a lot of time on

removing Elvis Presley's name from her pants and embroidering "Izzy Waters".1 It had been a long job, but Ally thought she simply had to do it. Anyone who had heard Izzy sing would agree with her.

Ally's best friend was Lou. They always walked to school together, giggling the whole way. They giggled because everything they said to each other sounded so funny. They also giggled because they were happy.

Mum had got2 Ally into the Senior Church School,3 because she had heard that the classes were smaller and that the head mistress tried to train the children in good manner?.4 Ally liked school well enough, especially now when she was in the top class and working with Miss Fleetwood.

Miss Fleetwood was not like the other, older teachers. She was very pretty and had been to Oxford as well as to the teachers' training college.5

"I think she's smashing," said Ally to Lou when the two girls were going to school one spring morning.

"I can't say I understand everything she talks about," said Lou, "but when she reads poetry, I get shivers down the back.8 It's so lovely. And the way she looks at you,7 if you whisper or move."

"She's got style, see?" said Ally. "Not like the other teachers."

"Not at all like the others!" agreed Lou.

"Please, Miss Fleetwood, would you read the Lady of Shalott?"8 Ally asked at the lesson in English9 that morning.

The class was thrilled and sat listening to the teacher's clear young voice. There was something about the mysterious Lady that pleased them.

"Oh, miss," said Ally at the end. "They ought to do that on the T. V. I mean that would make a smashing scene when she comes out and gets in the boat and lies singing till she dies and all the knights look at her — and everything."

"I wonder how Tennyson would have liked being on television?"1 said Miss Fleetwood, smiling. "Perhaps Byron a would have liked it better. He loved publicity. Just listen to this now." And she read them Byron's poem She walks in beauty like the night.3 That made such an impression on Ally that she walked in beauty all that week, until Mum met her when she was crossing the Common' and asked, "Got a crick in your neck?"4

"Glamour!" thought Ally. "What a hope!"5

Nobody had ever explained to Ally where Glamour began and ended. To her it meant everything that was exciting and lovely. She was sure that it applied to Izzy Waters, because his singing stirred something inside her. She knew that certain actresses were glamorous and so were certain clothes and scents and places. But now she was beginning to guess there was a rarer, more complicated glamour, something that poets had, and that Miss Fleetwood knew about. That was why Ally kept thinking about her. She wanted to find out the secret thing that Miss Fleetwood knew.

The young teacher had not got the obvious glamour of some famous actresses. She was not dressed up in mink and pearls, but she wore crisp, clean shirts. Her neat hairdo

of clean soap, not strong scent. Ally did not have a very clear idea of what a real lady should be,1 but she thought that Miss Fleetwood might be it.

There was no fuss or scolding in Miss Fleetwood's classes. As she entered the room, everything became calm, pleasant and orderly. The young teacher moved gracefully and wrote on the blackboard in an elegant hand.2 Even her books had plastic covers. Her shoes were very small and pretty. The girls used to stop her in the corridor and ask, "Are you teaching us today? Oh, good!"

Ally began to imitate Miss Fleetwood's clothes. She tried to smooth out her wild pony tail and have a neat

a white one that Auntie Glad had brought home, but on Ally it didn't stay crisp. Very soon it had ink spots and soot all over. Besides, such a blouse needed a lot of washing and ironing,3 so Ally had to give it up.

The next week she went to see a film with a famous actress who was wearing a skin-tight black sweater, enormous gold ear-rings and a gipsy head-scarf. Ally was as faithful to Miss Fleetwood as ever, but she immediately put on an old jersey, too small for her, a pair of Mum's curtain rings and Dad's red cotton hanky.

When Val began to tease her, she exclaimed bitterly, "It's no good trying in this family.4 I'm young, I've got to experiment to find my style."

Ally had never seriously thought about religion. Nobody in her family was religious. Dad never went to church, and Mum always liked to stay in bed a little longer on Sunday mornings after getting up at five every day of the week. Val had long ago refused to go to church.

As to Doreen, she took Len to Sunday school 6 regularly

and they came back with stamps stuck in a book. Those stamps gave them the right to take part in all sorts of summer school picnics, excursions and Christmas parties.

At Ally's school, things were different. On Thursdays the Rector or the Curate came to take a short service * at the school. None of the girls liked the Curate because he was a bore, but they liked the Rector. He was a shy, absent-minded man, very much like a don at a university. He spoke to the girls about all sorts of things that happened to be in his mind,2 using words that many of them did not know.

Naturally, the girls didn't understand much, but the Rector was a kind man and they felt it. They liked to listen to his pleasant soft voice.

This second Thursday in February the Rector arrived looking thin and tired as usual. He began talking to the girls about good and evil in the world. The girls just sat and listened and didn't even try to understand. Even the teachers looked puzzled. And only Miss Fleetwood seemed to know 3 what he was talking about.

When the service was over the Rector gave out an announcement.4

"We are going to act a play in the church during May," he said. "It will be a play about the things I have been telling you this morning. There will be martyrs and saints in it and a lot of ordinary sinners. I thought some of you might like B to act in it. If so, please give your names to 6 Miss Wilson. Good morning."7

"Will you be in it, Ally?" Lou asked. "I can imagine you and me as saints!" And she began to giggle.

"I want to be one of the sinners," shouted Annie Bragg. "I'll have hoofs and a taill"

The girls went on shouting and pushing one another. But Ally was serious.

"Shut up all of you," she cried angrily. "You don't understand anything!"

Most people spoil everything by opening their big mouths, thought Ally. She had decided to take part in the ploy. Perhaps, rehearsing day after day, she would find out the secret thing Miss" Fleetwood knew.

And in the crowded yard, where the girls were eating biscuits and playing catch,1 the warmth of the sun made her forget her troubles. The sun was shining brightly and seemed to promise Ally that one day she would know the greatest secret of all;

Chapter VI

HOME BY SMOG2

At the end of February a week of smog set in. It was horrid to get up in the morning and see everything as dark as night. It grew a little bit lighter towards the middle of the day but it became dark again as soon as school was over. The blackness which covered the town was both damp and sinister. The street lamps were no good.3 They could hardly fight the blackness. The air was concentrated coal dust. The children's faces grew pale and streaked with black.4

Val hated coming home at night. In the fog Shorty's gang might be anywhere. They had a down on Val1 because they did not want to have a rival gang. Shorty's boys were much stronger and older, and Nap, his lieutenant, was six feet tall, strong like a bull, and fought like a tiger. People said that Nap would kill someone one day, and it was no use arguing with him, because he had no brains to reason with.2 He could not even read or write. Blows were all he understood. Then there was Jim who never fought himself, but who was the gang's spy. But Thompson was perhaps the worst of them all. He had a pinch like a crab.3 His favourite trick was to come up secretly behind a chap and leave a bruise on him that took days to heal.*

Shorty did not do any dirty work himself. He was too clever for that and the police had never caught him yet. As to Nap, the police had promised him Borstal5 the next time they caught him fighting.

Val was coming across the yard in the fog that he wished were even thicker. He had a scarf over his mouth, and his hands were red with the cold. To approach his own house on such a night was like attacking a fortress. He never knew whether it was defended or not. But this evening he felt that Shorty's gang was about.8 He knew they had sworn to liquidate his own gang.

Luckily two women were standing near the front door talking. That was good. There could be no one hiding in the dark beneath the stairs. The first danger point was past.' He rushed up the first flight of stairs, all' the time fearing that some of his enemies would attack him. Perhaps most of all he feared Thompson. Mum always said Thompson would come to a bad end.8 Val hoped he would. At the mo-

There was no one on the first landing.

Second flight! There was a dark corner on the second landing where anyboby might hide. Ha held his breath.1 Not a soul. What luck! Suddenly he remembered that there was no light on the third landing. So that flight might be the worst place of all. If he passed it safely, he might be all

right. Going up silently on tiptoe, Val could smell kippers. He thought enviously of the lucky grown-ups who could come home to their tea every night without fearing anybody or anything.

Passing the dark corner he stretched out his hands. Nothing. He was almost up. Safe. One more flight to home.

He ran the last flight of stairs at a gallop, and so fell right into Thompson's arms.8 Luckily, Thompson was not in a mood for fighting. He was dressed up and

going out to the pictures. But Val was taking no chances.3 Although he was paralysed by fright, still he thought fast, bent down, seized Thompson's legs in their splendid socks and brought him down. Thompson gave a yell4 and rolled down the stairs. Val got to his feet and

yelled, "let me in!" He knew she was doing something in the kitchen. "Mum, quick!" At any moment Thompson might appear on the landing. "Mum!" Val banged louder.

When she opened the door, he almost fell in.

"Can't you wait a minute?" she asked angrily. "You aren't the fire brigade."

There was a Jovely smell of frying onions. Val took "a deep breath. He was back in his fortress. He was safe. He didn't want to think of tomorrow's battle. "What's for tea?" he asked.

He put on his swagger again1 as he went into the livingroom. He was again the gangster in his hide-out. No one, not even his family knew what a dangerous life he led. Everybody blamed Val for fighting, but the grown-ups could not guess that it was in self-defence. Once weaken, once give in,2 and Shorty's gang would kill him. Sometimes, when he couldn't sleep at night, he wished he could go and live in a quiet peaceful place. That was why he wanted a bike so badly. On a bike he would be able to escape.

"Going out?"3 Mum asked later when he had swallowed his mince and onions and three slices of bread and syrup.

"No. Want to see T. V."

He did not want to take risks again that night.

Chapter VII

THE EPIDEMIC

After the smog came heavy rain,4 and the whole yard was full of running water. The small children loved the pools, especially those who had gum boots. But the mothers cursed the weather, for they could not dry the washing, and all the flats were full of damp clothes. Mum went shopping

and got wet to the skin1 and caught a cold that turned into 'flu.2

One minute you were quite well, and the next in bed with a high temperature. Mum and Val and Ally were all in bed at the same time. It was Dad who stayed at home and nursed them all, because Auntie Glad did not offer her help and nobody wanted to ask her. She just went out to her work, as usual, and did not seem to see the family crisis. So poor Doreen had to do all the shopping.

Mum was just out of bed and very weak still and Ally was only allowed to sit up for an hour, when Len fell ill.

"I don't like the look of Len,"4 said Mum to Dad at tea-time. "He says it hurts him to breathe.5 We haven't got a thermometer, so I went to Mrs Fisher, and would you believe it? She said Jim smashed theirs in half!"

"Keep him warm," said Dad. But when he came back from the "Cock" later, he didn't like the look of Len either. The child was very red in the face now, and breathing with a strange noise.

"You sleep with Val," said Mum to Dad. "I'll take Lennie with me. I think we ought to get the doctor."

"It's Sunday tomorrow," said Dad. "You can't get the doctor on Sunday, especially with this epidemic and all."8 "He's got to come,"7 cried Mum. "What do we pay for?"

But they put off ringing up the doctor that' night.

Ally could never forget that terrible Sunday. They finally sent her out to telephone on Sunday evening. All the doctor's wife said was, "lie's out.8 Why didn't you ring up before'ten this morning?"