It would be better, even, to have Hiawatha in the role; by a supreme effort of will she could probably ignore the problem of his socks. Yet it was unlikely that Hiawatha would be chosen, given the strange accent with which he spoke and which rendered him almost unintelligible, even to Miss Harmony. Nobody knew why Hiawatha spoke as he did – he was not foreign; he was not even from London, where they spoke in a very strange way. One of the other girls, Pansy, had suggested that it was something physical, and had put her fingers into his mouth to investigate it one morning while Miss Harmony was out of the room, but with inconclusive results.
Olive decided that the only possible strategy would be to claim the role of Maria before anybody else might ask for it.
This pre-emptive move might then deter Tofu from suggesting himself as Captain von Trapp, on the grounds that he would not wish to play opposite her. This result could not be guaran-teed, of course, but she felt that it was worth trying.
“I’ll be Maria,” she burst out. “Miss Harmony, is that all right, then? I know all the songs – you can test me.”
Every eye in the room turned to Olive. While Olive had been thinking about the means of obtaining the role, every other girl
in the class had been thinking similar thoughts, but each was consumed by her own version of despair when Olive volunteered herself. It was typical of Olive, thought Pansy: push, push, push.
And Skye, who believed with utter conviction that she alone was qualified to play the role, felt a great surge of despair at the realisation that it might go to somebody else. For her part, Lakshmi, who was a quiet girl and rather given to defeatism, merely thought: Olive Oil, a soubriquet which she never openly uttered but which gave her great inner satisfaction and comfort.
Tofu, taken by surprise, was able only to glare at Olive, who returned his look with interest. She was now sure that her tactic had succeeded. Tofu would not dare to volunteer as Captain von Trapp while she was looking at him like this.
Miss Harmony, who believed in the innocence of children, pointedly ignored the undercurrents of ambition and hostility that flowed and eddied around the room. In her mind, Olive was not a suitable candidate for Maria because she had played a prominent role in the informal play they had performed in the classroom the previous week. She had also played a solo part in the class recorder consort’s benchmark performance of ‘Pease Pudding Hot’, and it was a principle of Steiner educational theory that every child should be given a chance. No, it was definitely not Olive’s turn.
“That’s very kind of you, Olive,” she said. “But we mustn’t allow you to do all the work, must we? Your poor shoulders would buckle under the strain, wouldn’t they? No, don’t shake your head like that, Olive – they really would!” She looked around the class. “Now then, Skye. You haven’t had a big part in any of the plays yet. Would you like to be Maria?”
Skye looked down at her desk. She had hardly dared hope, and yet it had happened. She began to cry.
Tofu turned to Bertie and smirked. “What a girlie!” he whispered.
Miss Harmony, who was comforting Skye, looked up sharply.
“Did we say something, Tofu?”
Tofu looked sullen.
“I said: did we say something, Tofu?” repeated Miss Harmony.
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“I said ‘What a girl’, Miss Harmony.”
Miss Harmony smiled. “That’s kind of you, Tofu. And yes, it is good of Skye to accept the part of Maria. These big parts are a lot of work, as I’m sure you know.” She paused. “Now then, as you are all aware, boys and girls, the main part for a boy is Captain von Trapp. The Captain is a brave man, an Austrian patriot . . .”
“Me,” said Tofu, raising his hand in the air.
Miss Harmony drew a deep breath. She had expected this, of course, and was ready with her response.
“Now then, Tofu,” she began, “we’re old enough to understand that we can’t have all the things that we want in this life.
If that happened, then what would we have to look forward to?
So it’s best to accept that we can’t all be Captain von Trapp, much as we would like to be. And I’m sure that Captain von Trapp himself was very good at sharing. Yes, I’m sure he was.
That’s why they made him a captain. He knew when it was his turn and when it wasn’t. And it’s not your turn now, Tofu. So Captain von Trapp will be played by . . .”
There was complete silence.
“Bertie.”
Bertie looked down at the floor. He did not dare look at Tofu, because he knew what expression would greet him if he did that.
He looked up at Miss Harmony. “I’m not sure . . .” he began.
“He’s not sure,” Tofu interjected. “Don’t force him, Miss Harmony. Please don’t force him.”
“Bertie’s a useless actor, Miss Harmony,” said Larch.
Tofu, aware now of the threat that Larch might claim the role, spun round and glared at the other boy.
“And you’re useless too, Larch,” he said. “You know that you can’t act for toffee.”
“Toffee yourself!” said Larch, and everybody laughed, except Tofu, who fumed. He wanted to hit Larch, but he understood that principle which everybody, but particularly politicians and statesmen understand very well: you only
