The Legacy Page 8

  ‘You weren’t here … where are you going? David?’

  David looked into the drawing-room and met Evelyne’s startled gaze. He cocked his head to one side.

  ‘Well, it appears Cinderella’s been invited to the ball.’

  The next moment David was running up the stairs calling for Minnie to run his bath. Soiree, dance, now a ball - Evelyne couldn’t make out what on earth they were talking about. Dr Collins walked in and caught her bewildered expression. He felt sorry for her. ‘Pay him no attention, you’d like to go, wouldn’t you?’

  Evelyne chewed her lip. Just thinking of spending an evening with David made her so excited she couldn’t speak. The Doctor opened his wallet and coughed, a nervous, ticklish cough.

  ‘Don’t suppose you brought a party frock with you, so, Minnie …?’

  Minnie was just rushing up the stairs after David.

  ‘I’m just going to run Master David’s bath, he’s already had one today so I don’t know how hot the water will be.’

  ‘Minnie, will you take Evelyne out and get her a frock to wear for a dance?’

  The Doctor handed Minnie a folded note and then glanced at his fob watch, murmured that he must be off and scuttled out. Minnie looked at the five-pound note and her jaw dropped.

  ‘Lord love us, look how much he give me! Get your coat, lovely, I’ll be two minutes.’

  Evelyne hadn’t even had time to thank Dr Collins, it had all happened so quickly. She squeaked up the stairs after Minnie, who disappeared into the bathroom to run David’s bath.

  Evelyne was buttoning her coat when she saw David coming out of his room, barefoot and wrapping his dressing gown around him.

  ‘Well, well, appears we are going out together tonight.’

  Evelyne swallowed, unable to look into his teasing, smiling face. As she passed him he quickly tugged her hair. She stopped, but he continued down the corridor to the bathroom.

  Minnie was waiting for Evelyne at the foot of the stairs.

  ‘Come on, hurry, I don’t want to be caught by Mrs Darwin, she’ll find something for me to do and we need all the time we can get. Come on, we’ll go out the front way.’

  Evelyne followed her out and as the door closed behind them, Minnie snorted.

  ‘I never known a man take so many baths, ever so particular, isn’t he?’

  David was actually in rather a good mood. The chaps had ribbed him quite a lot about his afternoon at the inn, but he was now very much ‘in’ with the ‘in’ set, and everyone had been impressed with Ridgely’s account of David’s prowess with the two ladies.

  He lay in the perfumed, soapy water. His skin tingled as he scrubbed himself hard with the loofah, worried that he may have picked up some disease from the tarts. He shivered with revulsion, remembering their bodies: he couldn’t understand why on earth Ridgely and the other officers enjoyed these prostitutes. They revolted him, but the improvement in his reputation made it worthwhile. He set about scrubbing himself with renewed vigour, perhaps he would find someone more to his liking at the Warners’ dance.

  Evelyne and Minnie took the tram into the centre of Cardiff. They didn’t go to any of the big stores with the elegant models in the windows - they went down a back lane into a small second-hand shop run by a Jewish family. Minnie assured Evelyne that this was where all the posh people who had fallen on hard times sold off their dresses, and they were sure to find something at half the price they would pay in any of the fashion houses. The added bonus of this arrangement was that, as Minnie knew one of the shop assistants, maybe they would get a few shillings off their purchases.

  Jeremiah Goldstein’s tailoring establishment and pawn shop was a back street hovel. Rows and rows of suits hung on racks, and there were shirts stacked to the ceiling. Minnie knew everyone in the shop, and Evelyne wondered how many of the doctor’s wife’s clothes had found their way here.

  Minnie’s friend was named Clara. They kissed and joked with each other, then Clara opened up an Aladdin’s cave of ball gowns, feather boas and sequins. There was a smell of body odour in the room, of stale perfume clinging to the garments. Clara walked around Evelyne, looking her up and down.

  ‘She’s a right bugger to fit, our Minnie, she’s all skin and bone for one, and then there’s her height. She’s not a dainty one, that’s for sure.’

  Gown after gown was taken down from the rails. Whether they were too short or too long they all looked of her wedding day, of her beloved Walter. That was what Evelyne had looked like, a bride.

  There was a sweeping gravel driveway, and several other cars already parked by the house. Evelyne’s head was spinning, she had never seen such comings and goings. The mansion was white, with pillars and huge trees on either side. Lamps illuminated the garden and the lake, and on the velvety lawns the bushes were thread with tiny glass candleholders all in different colours. She had to pinch herself to believe she wasn’t dreaming.

  David waited at the bottom of the steps with a look of irritation on his handsome face as Evelyne stumbled out of the car. He sighed, knowing this was a mistake. She’d almost fallen flat on her face and they weren’t even inside yet. Together they walked up the steps to the main entrance. The double doors stood wide to reveal a marble hallway with more footmen and guests milling about. Music drifted from a ballroom with gilt-edged glass doors, flowers arranged on pedestals at least four feet high exuded their perfume into the air, vying with the fragrances of the laughing, chattering ladies. The sights, the smells, textures and ambience of wealth overpowered Evelyne. Her heart seemed to jump in her chest, her breath came in short gasps, and tremors shook her body. Only the gentle touch of David’s hand on her elbow gave her the assurance that this was real, not a dream from which she would soon awaken. But her over-riding emotion was terror. Behind the masks of smiles, the bows of the footmen, the fleeting glances from the other guests, Evelyne felt they could see right through her - they could see she didn’t belong, she was an outsider.

  A small, sweet, white-haired woman was taking care of the guests’ cloaks. She darted forward to help Evelyne with hers, then with a tiny wave of her hand she directed her to a powder room with a row of gilt-edged mirrors and small velvet piano stools. At least, that was what they looked like to Evelyne. Several girls sat or stood around chattering and powdering their faces, touching the flowers in their hair, dabbing themselves with chiffon hankies dipped in crystal bottles of cologne. Their bracelets jangled and their diamonds glittered. They greeted each other in squealing voices, flinging their arms around each other. Kisses were exchanged, and admiring remarks about each other’s frocks.

  One of the stools became vacant, and Evelyne sat down and mimicked the actions of the girl next to her. She was like a tiny china doll, with pale blonde, curly hair, wide blue eyes and rosy cheeks. She wore the palest pink gown, and her tiny feet were encased in satin shoes. She turned for a moment, giving Evelyne an icy stare that swept from the top of her head to the scrubbed, second-hand shoes. She continued talking to her friends as she stared, then turned back, leaned slightly forward and cupped her hands to her tiny rosebud mouth. Her friends tittered and two other girls leaned back slightly to stare at Evelyne.

  David hovered outside, waiting for her. He saw everyone coming out and wondered what on earth Evelyne could be doing in there. Then his look of impatience changed. Leaving the powder room was an angel. Lady Primrose Boyd-Carpenter couldn’t help but notice David, who was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. As she passed him she gave him a tiny smile. David’s heart lurched in his chest and, forgetting Evelyne, he turned and followed the vision in the floating pink. She appeared to be very well-known, everyone acknowledged her. Officers kissed her hand as she made her way slowly towards the ballroom. Twice she turned back, aware that David was following, then she was surrounded by a chattering party of people. David caught the arm of his closest friend, Captain Freddy Carlton.

  ‘Freddy, who is she, who is she?’

  Freddy laughe
d, raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Not for you, old chap, she’s already taken, that is Lady Primrose Boyd-Carpenter.’

  ‘Introduce me, you have to introduce me, I’m in love.’

  Freddy beamed, his round, good-natured face glowed above his solid frame.

  ‘So am I, and I was there before you, she’s mine, so don’t you dare move in. I’ve been after her for months.’

  David leaned against the wall, watching Freddy, full of himself, easing his way through the crowd to Lady Primrose’s side. She turned her heart-shaped, perfect face to smile up at Freddy, then stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, slipping his hand through his arm. David could have sworn she flicked a knowing look at him as she began to introduce Freddy to her party of friends. The titles rolled, Lady this, the Honourable that, and again David could have sworn that her wicked, twinkling smile was for him alone. He was besotted.

  Captain Ridgely, already flushed with champagne, breezed up to David. ‘Lovely little thing, isn’t she, but I’m here to tell you it’s a kiss on the cheek from that quarter. Place your hand on that type of gel’s knee and all hell gets let loose.’

  David pointed towards Lady Primrose, ‘Line me up there, Ridgely, and you’ll be my friend for life.’

  Ridgely snorted. ‘You must be joking, that’s Lady Primmy, old boy, her family owns most of the mines in these parts. Besides, Freddy Carlton’s got a pash for her, look at the drooling idiot. Her family no doubt already has it arranged, ya know, titles and money always marry each other … you, having neither, don’t stand a chance … oh, I say, this is more my line, look what’s hovering yonder.’

  David turned to see poor Evelyne standing awkwardly at the powder-room door. Angry at Ridgely’s insinuation that Lady Primrose wouldn’t even consider him, he snapped.

  ‘That’s unfortunately with me, some wretched charge of my aunt’s, if you want her, for goodness’ sake take her …’

  At that moment a fuzzy blonde swept into Ridgely’s arms and demanded a dance. He departed, giving David a lewd wink.

  ‘Another time, what?’

  David sighed and walked across to Evelyne. Begrudgingly, he gave her his arm and led her towards the ballroom.

  The next disaster was the dancing. It had never occurred to Evelyne that at this sort of dance they didn’t do jigs, and gallop around like they did in the Salvation Army Hall. David led her to a small couch and told her to sit there while he fetched her a glass of champagne. He then disappeared into the throng of dancers. Most of the young men were in uniform, and everyone seemed to know everyone else, calling out, waving, and whizzing past on the dance floor.

  Evelyne sat waiting, looking and waiting, and eventually David came back to her side with champagne in a delicate, fluted glass.

  ‘Don’t gulp it, Flamehead, just sip.’

  Lady Primrose danced past, giving David another flickering, darting glance, and he turned and gazed after her pink, floating figure. Then he moved away without another word, and Evelyne wrinkled her nose as the champagne bubbles fizzed, but she quite liked the taste. It was sharper than lemonade, and icy cold, and she drained the glass and sat twiddling the stem.

  David danced past with Heather Warner. The girl was sweating, swathed in tulle and net, and while she looked like a powder puff, David made her feel like the most important girl at the dance. He leaned close, feeling her plump, jelly-like body quiver.

  ‘Tell me, Heather, that girl in pink, is it Lady Primrose? Only I am sure I know her family …’

  Heather trod on his foot as she peered round, then blinked up into his handsome face.

  ‘Yes, Lady Primrose Boyd-Carpenter. She’s very pretty, isn’t she?’

  David smiled into the buck teeth and held Heather closer, placed his cheek against hers. She sighed, her frustrated passion mounting. ‘Oh, she’s all right … I must say, you’re very light on your feet, Heather.’

  The poor girl nearly swooned, unaware that David was slowly manoeuvring her closer and closer to Lady Primrose, until she was forced to introduce him.

  ‘Primrose, this is David Collins, David, Lady Primrose Boyd-Carpenter.’

  David bowed, kissing the delicate, white-gloved hand, and asked if he would be permitted a dance. Lady Primmy excused herself to Freddy, who was glowering at David, and they moved off to the centre of the floor. She was so fragile, so delicate, and he held her as if she were precious glass, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She smelt so fresh, her hair shone and her wondrous eyes sparkled, and dancing with her was like twirling a feather. Neither of them spoke, they just looked into one another’s eyes, then smiled as Freddy huffed and puffed past, pushing Heather around as if she were a wheelbarrow.

  A butler approached Evelyne with a large silver tray, and bent low towards her. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, and she looked, licked her lips and placed her empty glass on the tray. He still waited, so she took another full one and smiled her thanks.

  At the far end of the dance floor sat a group of uniformed soldiers. Two of them wore arm bandages, one had a large pad on one eye. Another sat in a wheelchair. They seemed out of place, holding the fluted glasses with care, afraid to drop them or snap them in their big fists, as they watched the dancers gliding past. Evelyne could tell they were as uncomfortable as she was.

  Lady Sybil Warner looked over at Evelyne then searched the ballroom for David. The poor girl was still sitting alone on the sofa. Lady Sybil weaved her way towards Evelyne. More beads and feathers than ever floated around her, she was like a ship in full sail. ‘Now, dear, are you enjoying yourself? Come along, come along, let me introduce you to some young men, can’t have you sitting all alone, now can we? Follow me, come along.’

  She introduced Evelyne to the young soldiers. Her feathers tickled their noses and she got everyone’s names wrong, but they were all so nervous they didn’t like to correct her. Evelyne sat and tried to think of something interesting to say, but nothing would break through her headful of pins and bows.

  ‘Would you like to dance, Miss?’

  Evelyne bit her lip, then hedged, and finally admitted it - she actually couldn’t dance. The soldier boy laughed, throwing back his head.

  ‘We all thought you was a duchess sittin’ over yonder, too good for the likes of us. Yer can’t dance, girl, is that true?’

  Evelyne nodded. These lads weren’t the same as the young officers on the dance floor, they were her own kind, like her brothers.

  ‘Well, I’ve never done this fancy two-and-two-step, but can you polka?’

  Evelyne nodded, she could do a polka all right. Lizzie-Ann had taught her that. So they waited for a polka and now they were talking freely to her and asking questions. They came from different parts, but they all had families working the mines.

  As the boys talked Evelyne’s eyes kept straying to the dancers. David was dancing yet again with Lady Primrose, they looked perfect together. Heather appeared with small beads of sweat along her upper lip, her dress stained at the armpits.

  ‘Are you enjoying yourselves? Food will be served in a moment.’

  ‘Would you like to dance, miss?’ ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Dance, you want a dance?’

  Heather licked her rabbit teeth, nonplussed, and stuck out her arms. The young soldier, wearing heavy boots, guided her on to the floor. All the boys sniggered and whispered about her teeth.

  ‘Always the way, ain’t it, eh? All this money an’ she

  got a face like a buckin’ bronco, she looks like she’s

  been eatin’ too many of these toffees her family makes.’

  Evelyne knew she shouldn’t but she couldn’t help

  laughing with the lads.

  One boy, the boy in the wheelchair, didn’t smile, he sat staring into the dancers as if they weren’t there. His eyes were glazed, dead, empty. Evelyne moved to the seat next to him. The boy seemed hardly aware of her. A red-haired soldier with bright red cheeks moved along to sit beside Evelyne.

  . ‘He’ll n
ot talk, he’s shell-shocked, he don’t know where he is, been like it for two days since they brought him home.’

  Four more soldiers pulled their chairs closer, forming a protective circle with the vacant-eyed boy in the centre. They started to talk as if they needed to, the dancing and the champagne were all very well, but they had seen things, terrible things, and none of them wanted to go back. Their stories gushed out like rivers in flood, and Evelyne listened. She wanted to hold them in her arms, she felt their fear and confusion, and thought of Dicken and her darling brother Mike; they had gone off to a war she knew nothing about. The more the lads talked about what they were up against, the more Evelyne feared for her brothers. War was a long way from this elegant house, the orchestra, the young, dashing men in their cavalry uniforms. Evelyne realized that many of the so-called officers had never been to the Front. They were all show, like peacocks, in their braid and polished boots.

  ‘Wait ‘til they see what the Germans are like, lot of them won’t be dancin’ then, be lucky if they still got their legs.’

  The tight group was suddenly aware that couples were drifting into a large side room where a long trestle table had been laid out, the weight of the food bending the legs. Food! The lads rose in unison, then they remembered they were with a lady and turned back, but she grinned at them. She stood up and moved to the silent one, bent over him, touched his face. The lads moved off towards the food and Evelyne took hold of the silent boy’s hand.

  ‘Would you like something to eat, lad?’

  The vacant eyes stared towards her - so empty they frightened her. Slowly the boy lifted his hand. It was a strange move, his hand wavered, moving to her face. Then she felt his rough hand touch her cheek. She held his hand and kissed his fingers. The sad-eyed boy was so helpless, so cut off from reality, and his mouth moved, he was trying to speak. She moved her head closer.

  ‘Mama …?’

  Evelyne piled up a plate with chicken and ham, sweet rolled things with bacon wrapped around them, and tiny sausages on wooden sticks. The plate was so full, she dared not heap on any more. She was unaware of anyone watching her, of the nudges and the smiles or of David’s eyes, bright and angry. He was ashamed, it looked as though the girl had never eaten in her life. Lady Primrose at his side ate with delicate, bird-like movements. She smiled up at him with her rosebud mouth.