Chapter Three #2
Ben was studying his map. “Here’s the Monti Fountain. Let’s start there and go right round all the stuff and end up back there.”
“I want to see the monsters,” said Charlie.
“They’re in the park,” his elder brother informed him, studying the plan. “We’ll go outside this afternoon.”
“Why not now?”
“Because I bet later there will be more people, so it won’t be so much fun inside. We’ll see the monsters after lunch.”
“Come on,” Belinda urged. “Let’s not waste time arguing.”
“There’s a Navy gallery upstairs, Charlie. Our dad was in the Royal Navy, Bel.”
“Look, there’s a round and round staircase over there.”
“Spiral,” said Bel and Ben simultaneously.
“Does it go to the Navy?”
“Yes, look at the map.”
They had all reached the place where the nave that ran end to end of the palace crossed the central transept. Bel told Daisy their plans. “Is that all right, Mummy?”
“Of course. You’ve got your watch on? Keep your eye on the time.”
Ben and Charlie at once ran off to the left along the nave.
Hurrying after them, Bel glanced about. On her right was the Opera House, not in use at ten on a Wednesday morning, and then the Italian Court, which was closed off, with a notice saying it was open to Crystal Palace Club members only.
On her left was the Egyptian Court, the entrance guarded by gigantic statues wearing funny-looking false beards like the ones she had seen at the British Museum.
In fact there were statues all over the place.
Bel passed the Renaissance and Mediaeval Courts on one side, Greek (closed for renovations) and Roman on the other.
Through each entrance she saw vistas of rooms within rooms, full of statues and pillars.
Between the Alhambra and Byzantine Courts, according to the pamphlet, she caught up with the boys.
They were gaping at a fountain, or rather at its pedestal. Or was it a plinth? Bel wasn’t sure. Whatever it was called, the lower part seemed to be all bosoms.
“They’re naked!” Charlie blurted out.
“Hush!” hissed Ben.
“Nude,” Belinda said firmly. “When it’s art, they’re called nude. Lots of old statues are nude. Stop staring.”
Ben looked down at his guidebook. Charlie, unabashed, asked, “Have they got heads?” and crouched to peer up under the shroud of greenery hanging from the upper basin of the fountain. “Yes,” he said, satisfied. “I wonder—”
“There’s a gallery with telescopes.” Ben’s sweeping gesture took in the upper reaches of the palace. “Up on the top level. Let’s go there first. It sounds more interesting than all these courts.”
“All right, how do we get there? Where are the stairs?”
“Look. See this circle thing on the plan? In the corner there, behind the … um … Al-ham-bra Court. Would that be stairs?”
“Another spiral staircase. But let’s go through the Alhambra Court.”
“What’s Alhambra?” Charlie asked.
“I don’t know. What does it say, Ben?”
“It’s a palace in Spain that was built by the Moors.”
“Who are the Moors?”
“People from Morocco,” said Belinda. “That’s in Africa.”
“Our mother’s people came from Africa, didn’t they, Ben.”
“Yes, and France. Come on.”
Belinda loved the Alhambra Court. It was very colourful, with bright patterned tiles and mosaics, sweet-scented flowering plants, and fountains.
The central fountain was surrounded by four giant statues of lions, greatly preferable to embarrassingly nude women, though Bel didn’t think they were as good as the ones in Trafalgar Square.
The boys admired them, but they didn’t let Bel linger. They all sped across the first hall and turned right in the second, scarcely even glancing at the elaborate pillars and arches. An opening led into a passage, at the end of which an iron staircase circled upward.
When they reached it, Bel saw another passage at right angles, running behind the Alhambra. Ladies and gents conveniences opened off it, she noted. It was always useful to know where those were.
She hurried to catch up with the boys, round and round and up and up two dizzying flights.
The top gallery, high up under the glass roof, ran through big iron hoops.
When Belinda looked along its length, it was like looking through a telescope backwards, narrowing into the distance.
In the spaces between the hoops, real telescopes were set up to give a view through the glass wall over the whole of London, all the way to Hampstead Heath.
No one else was up there yet, so each of them bagged one.
Belinda explained how to find St. Paul’s dome, and once they’d spotted it, she directed them to other landmarks she recognised.
“Golly,” Ben exclaimed, “London is enormous!”
“I bet it’s as big as the whole of Trinidad,” said Charlie.
“Maybe.” Ben didn’t like the idea, Belinda could tell.
“I shouldn’t think so, but we can look it up in Mummy’s encyclopaedia when we get home. Let’s look over the rail and see if we can see the others. Hold on tight, Charlie.”
From their height, even the biggest statues looked like toys and the people Lilliputian. Mrs. Gilpin and Bertha in their uniforms with the twins, coming out of one of the courts opposite, were unmistakable, but Bel didn’t see any of the others.
“I feel sick,” Charlie announced.
“You’re just giddy,” Bel assured him. “Sit down for a minute, and when you get up don’t glance down. Keep looking right across to the other side. Then we’ll go down the steps and you’ll be all right.”
The lower gallery had the naval museum. Ben and Charlie were thrilled.
“As well as our dad being a sailor, Uncle Frank works in the dockyard,” Ben explained. “We used to spend quite a lot of time there.”
“He’s our stepfather.”
“I remember him. I met him at Fairacres last summer.”
There were models of all kinds of ships in all stages of construction and paintings of great sea battles and storms at sea. The boys were fascinated. Belinda found it quite interesting, but gradually she drifted away from them into the next section of the gallery.
It was full of statues and pictures from India.
She had learnt a bit about Hindu gods and goddesses from Deva, so it was fun identifying them—blue-faced Krishna with his milkmaid lover Radha, elephant-headed Ganesh, Hanuman the monkey-god.
She happened upon a statue of the Buddha with the most beautiful smile she’d ever seen, and then became absorbed in a display of miniature paintings in brilliant colours.
“Bel, where are you?” Two pairs of feet thudded towards her.
“Here.” She emerged into the main aisle.
“Are you ready to go down?”
“Are we late?”
“No, a bit early.” Ben glanced round the Indian stuff. “Do you want to stay longer?”
“Come on!” Charlie was already starting down the stairs at the end.
“We’ve hardly seen anything on the ground floor,” said Bel. “Let’s go.”
They were halfway down when Charlie said, “Is that your nanny, Bel?”
The woman in a nursery nurse’s uniform was hurrying—almost trotting—towards the stairs, along the wide passage behind the courts.
She wore a black cape and black hat but her head was bowed, so Belinda couldn’t see her face.
When she passed below, her hat looked different from Mrs. Gilpin’s.
Not that Bel had looked at Nanny Gilpin’s hat very closely.
She was pretty sure, though, that it was the winter one, made of felt, with a black silk rose on the band and a rose carved in ebony on the end of the hat pin.
The one passing below was shiny straw and the brim was broader.
“I don’t think so. No, here comes Mrs. Gilpin now. Without Oliver and Miranda. How odd! I wonder where she’s going.”
“Let’s follow her,” whispered Ben, close behind her on the next step up. “Like we did last summer.”
Privately, Belinda thought she was too old to play Red Indians. She reminded herself that her cousins were her guests and she didn’t want to be a wet blanket, as Derek was to her nowadays. “All right. But I bet she just goes back to the twins.”
The stairs were in a corner. The first nanny had turned left, towards the nave, and so did Mrs. Gilpin. Belinda had the impression she was following the unknown woman. There was no other way to go, though, so she was probably imagining it.
This passage wasn’t crowded with statues and plants.
In fact it was mostly bare except for pictures on the walls.
Luckily the children were all wearing rubber-soled plimsolls; they wouldn’t make any noise if they were careful.
They waited till the two nannies were about halfway to the nave and then crept after them.
When the stranger reached the nave, she glanced back over her shoulder. Mrs. Gilpin half-raised her hand, as if to stop her, but instantly she vanished round the corner to her right. Nurse Gilpin paused for a moment, hands on hips, a picture of stiff outrage, then quick-marched in her wake.
“The rendezvous is the other way,” said Ben, as Belinda and the boys ran to the corner and peered round. “Do you think she’s lost?”
“No,” said Bel positively, “but where on earth is she going?”
Both uniformed figures were crossing the central aisle towards the main doors to the park. The huge hall was quite busy now, some people gawping up in wonder at the glass dome high overhead, some studying their guidebooks, some heading confidently in one direction or another.
“I’m sure Mrs. Gilpin is following that other nanny on purpose,” said Belinda. “I can’t imagine why.”
“If we don’t hurry we’ll lose them and never find out,” Ben said impatiently. “Come on.”
They dodged through the crowd. Belinda caught glimpses of the nannies until they disappeared into a jungle of marble and greenery.
“More statues and more plants!” Charlie exclaimed in disgust as they reached the outskirts. “We’ll never find them.”
“Split up,” Ben advised. “We’ll meet at the end, by the doors to the park.”
“Then can we go and see the monsters?”
“It’ll be time to go to the rendezvous, I should think,” said Bel. “Monsters after lunch.”