The Dragonfly Pool

“No. I miss her all the time; I don’t see her even on the holidays. Well, hardly ever—just in secret places for a very short time. I’m too old, you see. I’m nearly thirteen, and it wouldn’t do for her to have a daughter my age. She’s supposed to be twenty-five, so I have to be kept out of the way, but I just want to be able to be with her. I love her so much.”

Tally knew what she should have done next—sat quietly beside Julia and let her talk—but she couldn’t. She got to her feet and collected the largest stones she could find and hurled them one by one into the river. Except that in her mind it wasn’t stones she was throwing, it was Gloria Grantley she was sending into the swirling, icy water. Gloria with her pout and her bosom and her fluttering eyelashes, who was too busy being famous to acknowledge her daughter.

It was a while before she could come back to comfort her friend.

“I expect it’s just as hard for her. She must long to be with you, but I expect it’s her manager who told her she has to be careful.”

Julia looked at her with gratitude. “Yes—he says it’s only while her contract lasts. Then when she’s saved lots of money she can retire and we can be together.” She looked wistfully at Tally. “There’s another performance at five o’clock. I’m going to stay for it—even if I get into trouble. Will you tell Magda? ”

Tally sighed. “I’ll stay with you,” she said. “You shouldn’t go home by yourself in the dark.”

The thought of another two hours of the swan-necked Gloria was appalling. But at least she’d get another look at the brave king of Bergania, not to mention the prince-under-plumes.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Biology at Dawn

Dr. Hamilton was reading the latest letter from his daughter:

We had our first biology class with Matteo today. Only it wasn’t a class really. It was a sort of walk . . . or an exploration . . . or an expedition. It was like being hunters on a trail and having your eyes sharpened with special drops so that you saw things that you didn’t think you could see and yet they had been there all the time.

Matteo is tall with broad shoulders and very dark hair and eyes. He looks foreign and he is—he has a slight accent and his voice is very deep. He can look quite scary but he has a very funny laugh. I’m not describing him well because he isn’t really like anybody else I’ve met. And the biology class wasn’t like anything I’d imagined either.

For one thing it started at four o’clock in the morning. You wouldn’t think a class could start then, would you, but Matteo’s classes start at whatever time he thinks we will see the things he wants to show us.

So I was woken by him walking down the corridors and opening our bedroom doors and saying, “Out”—and then we were all huddled in the courtyard, trying to wake up.

But we didn’t stay huddled for long because as we followed him into the copse where the path goes down to the river we were greeted by the most incredible noise! I’d read about the Dawn Chorus, but I thought it was just a gentle twittering. I didn’t realize that while I was asleep all the birds in England were singing their heads off.