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Authors: Jeffrey Archer

Tags: #Children of immigrants, #Children of immigrants - United States, #Westerns, #General, #Romance, #Sagas, #Fiction, #Businesswomen

The Prodigal Daughter (9 page)

BOOK: The Prodigal Daughter
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Once Florentyna
had returned to Chicago Miss Tredgold set about preparing her for Upper School.
Each day they would spend two hours studying a different subject, but
Florentyna was allowed to choose whether they should work in the momings or the
afternoons. The only exception to the rule was on Thursdays, when their
sessions took place in the morning as it was Miss Tredgold’s afternoon off.

At two o’clock
promptly every Thursday she would leave the house and not return until seven
that night. She never explained where she was going, and Florentyna never
summoned up the courage to ask. But as the holiday progressed Florentyna became
more and more curious about where Miss. Tredgold spent her time until finally
she resolved to discover for herself.

After a Thursday
morning of Latin and a light lunch together in the kitchen, Miss Tredgold said
goodbye to Florentyna and retired to her room. As two o’clock struck she opened
the front door of the house and headed off down the street carrying a large
canvas bag. Florentyna watched her carefully through her bedroom window. Once
Miss Tredgold had turned the comer of Rigg Street, Florentyna dashed out and
ran all the way down to the Inner Drive. She peered around to see her mentor
waiting at a bus stop on Michigan Avenue. She could feel her heart beating at
the thought of not being able to follow Miss Tredgold any farther. Within
minutes she watched a bus draw up and 61 come to a halt. She was about to turn
back for home when she noticed Miss Tredgold disappear up the circular
staircase of the double-decker. Without hesitation, Florentyna ran and jumped
onto the moving platform, then quickly made her way to the front of the bus.

When the ticket
collector asked her where she was going, Florentyna suddenly realized she had
no idea of her destination.

“How far do you
go?” she asked.

The collector
looked at her suspiciously. “The Loop,” he replied.

“One single for
The Loop, then,” Florentyna said confidently.

“That’ll be
fifteen cents,” said the conductor.

Florentyna
fumbled in her jacket pocket to discover she had only ten cents.

“How far can I
go for ten cents?”

“Rylands School”
came back the reply.

Florentyna
passed over the money, praying that Miss Tredgold would reach her destination
before she would have to get off, while not giving any thought to how she would
make the return journey.

She sat low in
her seat and watched carefully each time the bus came to .4 halt along the lake
front, but even after she had counted twelve stops and passed the University of
Chicago, Miss Tredgold still did not appear.

“Your stop is
next,” the conductor said a few minutes later.

When the bus
next came to a halt, Florentyna knew she was beaten. She stepped down
reluctantly onto the sidewalk thinking about the long walk home and determined
that the following week she would have enough money to cover the journey both
ways.

She stood
unhappily watching the bus as it traveled a few hundred yards farther down the
street before coming to a stop once more. A figure stepped out into the road
which could only have been Miss Tredgold. She disappeared down a side street,
looking as if she knew exactly where she was going.

Florentyna ran
as hard as she could, but when she reached the comer, breathless, there was no
sign of Miss Tredgold. Florentyna walked slowly down the street wondering where
her govemess could have gone. Perhaps into one of the houses, or might she have
taken another side street? Florentyna decided she would walk to the end of the
block and if she failed to spot her quarry then, she would have to make her way
home.

Just at the
point when she was considering turning back she came into an opening that faced
a large white archway on which “South Shore Country Club” was embossed in gold.

Florentyna
didn’t think for a minute that Miss Treelgold could be inside, but out of
curiosity she peered through the gates.

“What
d(
, you want?” said a uniformed guard standing on the other
side.

“I was looking
for my governess,” said Florentyna.

“What’s her
name?”

“Miss Tredgold,”
Florentyna said unflinchingly.

“She’s already
gone into the clubhouse,” said the guard, pointing toward a Victorian building
surrounded by trees about a quarter of a mile up a steep rise.

Florentyna
marched boldly through, without another word, staying on the path because “Keep
off the grass” signs were displayed every few yards.

She kept her eye
on the clubhouse and had ample time to leap behind a tree when she saw Miss
Treelgold emerge. She hardly recognized the lady dressed in
red-and-yellow-checked tweed trousers, a heavy Fair Isle sweater and heavy
brown brogues. A bag of golf clubs was stung comfortably over one shoulder.

Florentyria
stared at her governess, mesmerized.

Miss Tredgold
walked toward the first tee, where she put down her bag and took out a ball.
She placed it on a tee at her feet and selected a club from her bag. After a
few practice swings she steadied herself, addressed the ball and hit it firmly
down the middle of the fairway. Florentyna couldn’t befieve her eyes. She
wanted to applaud but instead ran forward to hide behind another tree as Miss
Tredgold marched off down the fairway.

Miss Trrdgold’s
second shot landed only twenty yards: from the edge of the green. Florentyna
ran forward to a clump of trees at the side of the fairway and watched Miss
Tredgold chip her ball up onto the green and hole it out with two putts.
Florentyna was left in no doubt that Miss Tredgold had been playing the game
for some considerable time.

Miss Tredgold
then removed a small white card from her pocket and wrote on it, before heading
toward the second tee. As she did ~.io she gazed toward the second green, which
was to the left of where Florentyna was hidden. Once again Miss Tredgold
steadied herself, addressed the ball and swung, but this time she sliced her
shot and the ball ended up only fifteen yards from Florentyna’s hiding place.

Th
,-
Post: 1934-1968 63

Florentyna
looked up at the trees, but they had not been made for climbing other than by a
cat. She held her breath and crouched behind the widest trunk, but could not
resist watching Miss Tredgold as she studied the lie of her ball. Miss Tredgold
muttered something inaudible and then selected a club. Florentyna let out her
breath as Miss Tredgold swung.

The ball climbed
high and straight before landing in the middle of the fairway again.

Florentyna
watched Miss Tredgold replace her club in the bag.

I should have
kept a straighter arm on the first shot and then we would never have met.”

Florentyna,
assumed Miss
Tredgold was admonishing herself yet again and remained behind the tree.

“Come here,
child.” Florentyna obediently ran out but said nothing.

Miss Tred9old
took another ball from the side pocket of her bag and plac~-d it on the ground
in front of her. She selected a club and handed it to her charge.

“Try to Nt the
ball in that direction,” she said pointing toward a flag about a hundred yards
away.

Florentyna held
the club awkwardly before taking several swings at th
,~
ball, on each occasion digging up what Miss Tredgold called a “divot.”

At last she managed
to push it twenty yards toward the fairway. She beamed with pleasure.

I see we are in
for a long afternoon,” declared Miss Tredgold
resigne(
Ily.

“I am sorry,”
said Florentyna. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“For
following me, yes.
But for the state of your golf, no.
We shall hwc to
start with the basics, as it seems in the future I am no longer to have
Thursday afternoons to myself, now you have discovered my father’s only sin.”

Miss Tredgold
taught Florentyna how to play golf with the same energy and application as if
it were Latin or Greek. By the end of tt~e summer holiday Florentyna’s favorite
afternoon was Thursday.

Upper School was
very different from Middle School. There was a new teacher for every subject
rather than one teacher for everything ~
,ut
gym and
art. The pupils moved from room to room for tht ir classes, and for many of the
activities the girls joined forces with the boys’ school.

Florentyna’s
favorite subjects were current affairs, Latin, French and English, although she
couldn’t wait for her twice-weekly biology classes, because they gave hur the
chance to use a microscope and admire the school’s collection of bugs.

“Insects,
dear child.
You must refer to the little creatures as insects,” Miss Tredgold insisted.

“Actually, Miss
Tredgold, they’re nematodes.”

Florentyna
continued to take an interest in clothes and noticed that the mode for short
dresses caused by the enforced economies of war was fast becoming outdated and
that once again skirts were returning toward the ground. She was unable to do
much about experimenting with fashion, as the school unifonn was the same year
in and year out; the children’s department of Marshall Field’s, it seemed, was
not influenced by Vogue. However, she studied all the relevant magazines in the
library and pestered her mother to take her to more shows. For Miss Tredgold,
on the other hand, who had never allowed any man to see her knees, even in the
self-denying days of Lend-Lease, the new fashion only proved she had been right
all along.

At the end of Florentyna’s
first year in Upper School the modern-] ang Liages mistress decided to put on a
performance of
Shaw ‘s
Saint Joan in French. As
Florentyna was the one pupil who could think in the language, she was chosen to
play the Maid of Orleans, and she rehearsed for hours in the old nursery, with
Miss Tredgold playing every other part as well as being prompter and cue
reader. Even when Florentyna was wordperfect, Miss Tredgold sat loyally through
the daily one-woman shows.

“Only the Pope
and I give audiences for one,” she told Florentyna as the phone rang.

“It’s for you,”
said Miss Tredgold.

Florentyna
always enjoyed receiving phone calls, although it was not a practice that Miss
‘rregold encouraged.

“Hello,
it s Edward.
I need your help.”

“Why? Don’t tell
me you’ve opened a schoolbook

“No hope of
that, silly. But I’ve been given the part of the Dauphin and I can’t pronounce
all the words.”

Florentyna tried
not to laugh. “Come around at five-thirty and you can join the daily
rehearsals. Although I must warn you, Miss Treelgold has been making a very
good Dauphin up to now.”

Edward came
around every night at five-thirty and although Miss Treelgold occasionally
frowned when “the boy” lapsed back into an American accent, he was ‘Just about
ready” by the day of the dress rehearsal.

65

When the night
of the performance
itself
came, Miss Tredgold
instructed Florentyna and Edward that under no circumstances must they look out
into the audience hoping to spot their parents~ otherwise those watching the
performance would not believe the character they were portraying. Most
unprofessional, Miss Tredgold considered, and reminded Florentyna that Mr. NoO
Coward had once left a performance of Romeo and Juliet because Mr. John Gielgud
looked straight at him during a soliloquy. Florentyna was convinced, although
in truth she had no idea who John Gielgud and NoO

Coward
were
.

When the curtain
went up, Florentyna did not once look beyond the footlights. Miss Tredgold
considered her efforts 11 most commendable” and during the intermission
particularly commented to Florentyna’s mother on the scene in which the Maid is
alone in the center of the stage and talks to her voices. “Moving,” was Miss
Tredgold’s description, “Unquestionably moving.” When the last curtain finally
fell, Florentyna received an ovation, even from those who had not been able to
follow every word in French. Edward stood a pace behind her, relieved to have
come through the ordeal without toa many mistakes. Glowing with excitement,
Florentyna removed her makeup, her first experience of lipstick and powder,
changed back into her school uniform and joined her mother and Miss Tredgold
with the other parents who were having coffee in the dining hall. Several
people came over to congratulate her on her performance including the
headmaster of the Boys Latin School.

“A remarkable
achievement for a girl of her age,” he told Mrs. Rosnovski.

“Though when you
think about it, she is only a couple of years younger than Saint Joan was when
she challenged the entire might of the French establishment,” “Saint Joan
didn’t have.
to
learn sonieone else’s lines in a
foreign language,” said Zaphia, feeling pleased with herself.

Florentyna did
not take in her mother’s words; her eyes were searching the crowded hall for
her father.

BOOK: The Prodigal Daughter
9.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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