Джеффри Арчер - The Prodigal Daughter

‘That was unworthy of you, Florentyna, and indeed of me. Be sure you never in your life express such an opinion again. The hour of triumph is not a time to belittle your rivals. Rather, it is a time to be magnanimous.’

Miss Tredgold rose from her seat and retired to her room.

When Florentyna went to lunch the next day, Jason Morton took the seat next to her. ‘We’re going to see a lot of each other now that you’re on the Council,’ he said, and smiled. Florentyna didn’t smile back, because Jason had the same reputation among the pupils of Girls Latin as Pete Welling and she was determined not to make a fool of herself a second time.

Over lunch, they discussed the problem of the school orchestra’s trip to Boston and what to do about the number of boys who had been caught smoking. Student councillors were limited in the punishments they were allowed to impose, and study hall detention on Saturday morning was about the most extreme terror they could evoke. Jason told Florentyna that if they went so far as to report the smokers to the headmaster, it would undoubtedly mean expulsion for the students involved. A dilemma had arisen among the councillors because no one feared the Saturday detention, and equally, no one believed anyone ever would be reported to the headmaster.

‘If we allow the smoking to go on,’ said Jason, ‘very soon we’ll have no authority at all unless we’re determined to make a positive stand in full Council right from the beginning.’

Florentyna agreed with him and was surprised by his next question.

‘Would you be up for a game of tennis on Saturday afternoon?’

Florentyna remained silent for a moment. ‘Yes,’ she said, trying to sound casual as she remembered that he was captain of the tennis team and her backhand was awful.

‘Good, I’ll pick you up at three o’clock. Will that be okay?’

‘Fine,’ said Florentyna, hoping she still sounded offhand.

‘That tennis dress is far too short,’ said Miss Tredgold.

‘I know,’ said Florentyna, ‘but it’s last year’s, and I’ve grown since then.’

‘With whom are you playing?’

‘Jason Morton.’

‘You really cannot play tennis in a dress like that with a young man.’

‘It’s either this or the nude,’ said Florentyna.

‘Don’t be cheeky with me, child. I shall allow you to wear the garment on this occasion, but be assured I shall have acquired a new dress for you by Monday afternoon.’

The front doorbell rang. ‘He seems to have arrived,’ said Miss Tredgold.

Florentyna picked up her racket and ran toward the door.

‘Don’t run, child. Let the young man wait a little. We can’t have him knowing how you feel about him, can we?’

Florentyna blushed, tied back her long dark hair with a ribbon and walked slowly to the front door.

‘Hi, Jason,’ she said, her voice casual again. ‘Won’t you come in?’

Jason, who was dressed in a smart tennis outfit that looked as if it had been bought that morning, couldn’t take his eyes off Florentyna. ‘What a dress,’ he ventured, and was about to say more when he saw Miss Tredgold leaving the room. He hadn’t realized until that moment what a good figure Florentyna had. The moment he set eyes on Miss Tredgold he knew why he had never been allowed to find out.

‘It’s last year’s, I’m afraid,’ said Florentyna, looking down at her slim legs. ‘It’s awful, isn’t it?’

‘No, I think it’s swell. Come on, I’ve reserved a court for three-thirty and someone else will grab it if we’re a minute late.’

‘Good heavens,’ said Florentyna as she closed the front door. ‘Is that yours?’

‘Yes. Don’t you think it’s fantastic?’

‘I would say, if asked to venture an opinion, that it had seen better days.’

‘Oh, really?’ said Jason. ‘I thought it was rather snazzy.’

‘If I knew what the word meant I might be able to agree with you. Pray, sir,’ she said mockingly, ‘am I expected to ride in that machine or help push it?’

‘That is a genuine pre-war Packard.’

‘Then it deserves an early burial,’ said Florentyna as she took her seat in the front, suddenly realizing how much of her legs were showing.

‘Has anyone taught you how to propel this lump of metal in a forward direction?’ she inquired sweetly.

‘No, not exactly,’ said Jason.

‘What?’ said Florentyna in disbelief.

‘I’m told driving is mostly common sense.’

Florentyna pushed down the handle of her door, opening it slightly, as if to get out. Jason put his hand on her thigh.

‘Don’t be silly, Tyna. I was taught by my father and I’ve been driving for nearly a year.’

Florentyna blushed, closed the door again and had to admit to herself that he drove rather well all the way to the tennis club even if the car did rattle and bump as it went over the holes in the road.

The tennis match was a desperate affair with Florentyna trying hard to win a point while Jason tried hard to lose one. Somehow Jason managed to win by only 6–2, 6–1.

‘What I need is a Coke,’ he said at the end of the match.

‘What I need is a coach,’ said Florentyna.

He laughed and took her hand as they left the court, and even though she felt sweaty and hot, he did not let her hand go until they reached the bar at the back of the clubhouse. He bought one Coke and they sat drinking it from two straws in the corner of the room. When they had finished, Jason drove her home. On reaching Rigg Street, he leaned over and kissed her on the lips. Florentyna did not respond, more out of shock than for any other reason.

‘Why don’t you come to the movies with me tonight?’ he said. ‘ On the Town is showing at the United Artists.’

‘Well, I normally... Yes, I’d like that,’ said Florentyna.

‘Good, then I’ll pick you up at seven.’

Florentyna watched the car as it chugged away, and tried to think of some reason that would persuade her mother she had to be out that evening. She found Miss Tredgold preparing tea in the kitchen.

‘A good game, child?’ asked Miss Tredgold.

‘Not for him, I’m afraid. By the way, he wants to take me to’ — she hesitated — ‘to Orchestra Hall for a concert this evening so I won’t need any dinner.’

‘How nice,’ said Miss Tredgold. ‘Be sure you’re back before eleven or your mother will worry.’

Florentyna ran upstairs, sat on the end of the bed and started to think about what she could possibly wear that evening, how awful her hair looked and whether she could steal some of her mother’s makeup. She stood in front of the mirror wondering how she could make her breasts look bigger without holding her breath all night.

At seven o’clock Jason returned dressed in a red sloppy Joe sweater and khakis and was met at the door by Miss Tredgold.

‘How do you do, young man.’

‘How do you do, ma’am,’ said Jason.

‘Would you like to come into the drawing room?’

‘Thank you,’ said Jason.

‘And what is the concert you’re taking Florentyna to?’

‘The concert?’

‘Yes, I wondered who was playing,’ said Miss Tredgold. ‘I read a good review of Beethoven’s Third in the morning paper.’

‘Oh, yeah, Beethoven’s Third,’ said Jason, as Florentyna appeared on the stairs. Both Miss Tredgold and Jason were stunned. One approved while the other didn’t. Florentyna was wearing a green dress that fell just below the knee and revealed the sheerest nylon stockings with dark seams down the back. She walked slowly down the stairs, her long legs unsteady in high-heeled shoes, her small breasts looking larger than usual, her shining dark hair hanging down to her shoulders, reminiscent of Jennifer Jones, and making Florentyna appear a lot older than her fifteen years. The only item she wore to which Miss Tredgold could take no exception was the watch she herself had given to Florentyna on her thirteenth birthday.