The Dragonfly Pool

“There is no place where nothing bad could happen,” he said. “Not in the world we live in now.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Prince Watches

Karil had removed the latest photograph of Carlotta from the table by the window so that he could rest the arm with which he was steadying the big telescope he had borrowed from the library. Usually when he looked down at the town he used the binoculars his father had given him for his birthday, but to make out actual people he needed a stronger magnification.

But even with the telescope he saw the children only as scurrying ants, not as individuals. The British tents were the closest, next to the bridge; the other tents were partly screened by the trees that grew along the river, but he could see the wooden platform which had been put up so that the dancers could practice.

There was a group there rehearsing now, stamping and swirling. They were brightly dressed in red and yellow—Spanish perhaps, or Portuguese? He could hear very faintly the sound of guitars and tambourines.

He directed the telescope back to the British tents. The children there seemed to be doing chores, shaking out sleeping bags and fixing a clothesline. Two boys were banging wooden sticks together—one girl, small as a grasshopper, was taking a little boy through the steps of a dance. Karil tried to follow her with the telescope, but she was like quicksilver and he kept losing her.

An angry voice behind him made him turn around.

“May I ask you what you are doing, Karil, staring out of the window when Monsieur Dalrose is waiting to give you your history lesson?” said Countess Frederica. She walked over to the window. “And where is the photograph of Carlotta? What have you done with it?”

“It’s on the chest of drawers.” Karil sighed and put down the telescope. Actually it seemed to him that the whole room was full of pictures of Carlotta. She was like those earthworms that one cut in half and each half grew again. “I only wanted to see what the folk dancers are doing. Especially the British ones.”

“The less said about the British team the better,” said Countess Frederica. “I saw the Baroness Gambetti this morning and she told me that their behavior is shocking.”

Karil turned away from the window. “How? How is it shocking?”

The countess drew her ferocious brows together. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that. But I can only say that you can stop showing an interest in what appear to be ruffians with no discipline and no manners.”

The Scold did not normally spend time with the Baroness Gambetti. Whether the wife of the foreign minister did or did not sleep with a picture of Hitler under her pillow, she was certainly a woman who disagreed with the king, and whatever the countess’s faults she was utterly loyal to Johannes. But they had met in the salon of the dressmaker who made clothes for the court, and the baroness had been full of gossip and indignation.

“The British rabble have no uniform—they came with a ragbag of clothes and not one of them can curtsy. And they call their teachers by their Christian names. But that’s not all—they wear nothing in the shower rooms.” She lowered her voice. “Nothing at all.”

Countess Frederica had tried to be fair. “Of course, it would not be sensible to shower in one’s clothes,” she pointed out.

“No, of course not,” snapped the baroness. “But it is customary to slip off one’s bathrobe at the very last second, whereas these children just wander about in the washroom till it is their turn. They have no modesty and no shame. And the man who is in charge of them looks like a bandit. My husband says his face is familiar—he’s probably wanted by the police.”

There had been no time to hear more about the British children but the countess had learned enough.

“Put the telescope away, and put Carlotta back in her rightful place, please.”

But at lunchtime Uncle Fritz seemed to be very pleased with the way things were going down in the park.

“Everyone has settled in very well,” he said. “It’s so good to have young people.” He sighed.

“They’re going to have a tour of the town today,” he went on. “They’ll come to the palace—only the staterooms, of course, and the ramparts—but if you look out of the window you’ll be able to see them. Fortunately they seem to be getting on very well, the different teams. That’s because it’s not a competition, just people coming together to make music and dance,” said Uncle Fritz happily.

But the best news was still to come. After the meal was over, an equerry sent for Uncle Fritz and asked him to come to the council chamber because His Majesty wanted to speak to him. When he came back he was beaming.

“Your father will come himself to the opening ceremony,” he told Karil. “It is quite unexpected—no one thought the king would have time to open what is after all only a children’s festival. You will accompany your father, of course. The master of ceremonies is arranging the details now.”