The Dragonfly Pool

“Ah yes, that’s all right, I’ve got you down. You can go to the train—sit anywhere you like. And if you do see Augusta Carrington send her to me,” and she moved away toward a boy with a birdcage who had just come out of the refreshment room.

“Well, at least it doesn’t seem to matter too much what you wear, dear,” said Aunt Hester, looking very pale.

Tally said nothing and her father put his arm around her shoulders. He was remembering some of the things that Professor Mayfield had said when he told him that he thought he could get Tally a scholarship to Delderton.

“It’s an unusual school and very highly regarded. All sorts of eminent people send their children there. The school believes in freedom and self-development, and not forcing the children.”

Perhaps he should have found out more before he’d agreed to send Tally—but the part he had taken notice of was the description of the beautiful Devon countryside, the healthy food . . . the safety it would provide in times of war. And of course he himself believed in freedom and self-development—who didn’t?

Now quickly he tried to explain to his stricken daughter that Delderton was what was known as a progressive school.

But Tally was beyond help. She would rather have gone into a lion’s den than into one of those compartments.

“I don’t know how to be progressive,” she said in a small voice. “I don’t know how one does it.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “And I don’t know about self-development. I don’t know about any of these things.”

But it was too late. As for Augusta Carrington, it was quite obvious to Tally what had happened to her. She had stayed at home with her head under her pillow and refused to leave the house.

“We’ll write to you every day,” promised Aunt May—and Dr. Hamilton, blaming himself utterly, took his daughter’s hand and led her to the train.

People don’t die from getting into school trains and Tally, as she leaned out of the window to wave, stayed incurably alive, but as she saw her father and the aunts standing very upright on the platform she felt a sense of desolation such as she had never known.

Doors slammed; the guard waved his flag and put his whistle to his lips and the train began to move. Her father lifted his arm for the last time and turned to lead his sisters to the exit, and Tally, following him with her eyes, saw some of the other parents hurrying away blindly, as if these odd people, too, might be sorry to see their extraordinary children go. For a short time the Foxingham train ran beside hers, and she could see the fierce-striped boys in a blur of red and yellow. Then their train accelerated and they were gone.

She took a deep breath and opened the door to a compartment.

There were three people inside. A thin girl with two long sandy plaits sat in one corner, turning the pages of a film magazine. She had gray eyes and a narrow face covered in freckles. People with freckles usually look cheerful, but this girl seemed listless and rather sad, hunched in her seat. Yet the smile she gave Tally was welcoming and friendly.

“You’d better sit over here,” she said. “Not under the salamander. He slops.”

“He doesn’t,” said the wild-haired boy crossly, looking up at the luggage rack. His legs were stretched out so as to leave little room, but he moved them for Tally to get past. “I got him a new tank.”

Tally peered up at the strange pale creature, like an overgrown newt, lurking in the water weeds.

“Is it an axolotl? ” she asked, remembering her father’s zoology books.

The boy nodded. “I got him for my birthday.”

“Are we allowed to keep animals then? ” asked Tally.

“Not cats or dogs, but small ones that can stay in cages,” said the girl, putting down her magazine. “There’s a pet hut where they live.” And then: “My name’s Julia.” She pointed to the boy with the axolotl. “He’s Barney. And that’s Tod.”

Tod was the boy who had carried a banner with the words DOWN WITH TYRANTS!, but the banner was now rolled up and he was reading The Dandy.

“You’d better come and sit next to me,” Julia went on—“there’s a little fat boy who was sitting where you are. He’s called Kit and he’s new like you. He’s in the lavatory. They sent him in a shirt and tie and he’s very upset. I think he’s trying to flush his tie down the loo.”

“But it won’t go down, surely?” Tally was instantly concerned. “He’ll block everything.”

Julia shrugged, but Tally was not good at leaving well enough alone. “I’ll go and see,” she said.

She made her way along the corridor. The girl with bare feet was hanging on to the window bars. She wore a green shirt with a rip in it and a gathered skirt with an uneven hem and looked very confident. Obviously the rip was in exactly the right place, and the hem needed to be uneven.

The lavatory door was locked, but after she had banged several times it opened and a woebegone face appeared around it. In one plump hand the little boy held a bedraggled tie.