“You will be fine,” said John. “Absolutely
fine. You’ll learn very quickly once you start school. Your uncle said you
learnt Italian really quickly?”
“That was
different,” wailed Renate. “We’d had lessons at school and then we only had to
speak it to the skiing instructor. Tomorrow I’ve got to be able to understand
everything in school.”
“And I’m giving
you lessons,” said John. “It’s all around you all the time. The school is,
thank God, anyway, exactly like the one you were going to go to in Stuttgart.”
“Except that
they all speak English,” muttered Renate.
“So we should
practice now,” said John. “Come on, we shall speak English. Tell me everything
you see!”
It was an
unusually warm day for January. There were ducks and even swans bobbing along
happily on the Thames. Renate could hardly
believe that the trees and the birds and the bees were going on as normal – in
fact better than normal – despite all
the strange things that were happening to her. The sun made the water sparkle
and you could see the reflections of all the tall buildings quite clearly on
the water.
“Come on, then,”
said John slowly in English. “What can you see?”
“Ich kann eine,”
Renate started. She didn’t even know how to say “I can”.
“I
can,” John said slowly for her.
“Well, I can see a bridge, Tower Bridge,”
said Renate carefully.“And Big Ben. Zhe-” She really did have trouble with
“the”. She paused, took a deep breath, and placed her tongue firmly between her
teeth. “The Houses of Parliament in London- the capital of - the United Kingdom.”
Mrs Smith nodded
and smiled. She muttered something to John. He laughed.
“My mother
thinks you sound like a tourist book,” he said.
“What can you see on the river?” he asked,
switching back to German. .
“I can see some
boots, and I can see a bugger,” replied Renate.
“What?” asked
Mrs Smith.
A gentleman who
was standing next to them cleared his throat and frowned at Renate.
“I can see a big
bugger,” repeated Renate, looking sideways at the man, wondering why he seemed
so hot and bothered.
“Well, really,”
he muttered and hurried away.
“Bugger?” asked
John. “Where did you learn that word?” he added in German. You mustn’t say that. It’s a really bad swear
word.”
“What have you
been teaching her?” asked Mrs Smith.
“What do you
mean?” asked John, ignoring Mrs Smith’s question.
“Look, bugger,”
said Renate, pointing at the large craft which was slowly making its way
upriver.
“Dredger,” said
John. “That’s a dredger.” He laughed. “Of course. You’re trying to say the
German word the English way,” he added in German.
“Oh, I’ll never
get the hang of this stupid language,” moaned Renate, blushing bright red.
“They’ll all laugh at me tomorrow.”
“They won’t
laugh,” said John. He translated for his mother.
Mrs Smith gave
her a huge hug. She said something which Renate could not understand, and shook
her head violently.
“They’re going
to be nice,” said John in German. “But you’ve got to see the funny side of it.
That man thought you were calling him a very rude word.”
He explained to
Mrs Smith. She put her hand over her mouth and went very red. Then her eyes
twinkled and suddenly she was laughing.
“Go on, laugh,” said John.
Suddenly Renate
found herself giggling helplessly at the thought of the gentleman’s face. And
laughing made her feel better. Perhaps tomorrow would not be so bad after
all.
