to look after you.’ Edgar had to be abroad on his printing-ink round. Victoria was certain to smoke between courses. Also, there had been that puzzling moment with Archie Thorne; something conspiratorial that spooked her. A complicity. He was expected to come to the dinner party and she did not wish to hear a repeat of their shared laughter.
A timid neighbour called to her from the window. Belinda, shrinking as she always did from self-assertion, had left her caron the road outside the garden boundary. She was the pretty daughter of an East Anglian rural dean and had been trained to believe in humility – a training from which she sometimes reared to relieve herself. That afternoon she wanted to take a cutting from one of Lettice’s roses. Lettice, much pleased, said, ‘How lovely for me to picture a bloom from my canary bird in your ravishing little garden. Nowhere could it fall on happier ground. To me canary bird is the symbol of summer and sunshine.’
When the cutting had been taken, although neither woman had the faintest idea if the time of year was right, Lettice invited Belinda to come indoors. She needed advice about the London dinner party.
Picking up a preliminary list, roughly written (bold italics kept for best), she waved at an armchair.
‘I really don’t know if I’m coming or going. The whole thing is a complete nightmare. So many people will be hurt. What can one do? I know that you and Jack will understand perfectly . We see so much of you down here that there’s hardly any point in meeting in the beastly hurly-burly of London. Are our less sophisticated neighbours going to see it in the same sensible way? You can help me here. If we don’t ask you (and you are known to be our closest country friends) then the others will be sure to accept it. What do you think?’
Belinda, aghast at being excluded, was too baffled and furious to answer.
Lettice’s words came breathlessly.
‘I can see that you, darling, agree with me entirely. I amgoing to give a cosy little dinner party here as soon as we get back from London. You and Jack will be guests of honour and I promise to remember every ridiculous detail of the evening to amuse you all.’
Chapter 6
V ictoria opened her letters. One was from Laurence. It gave her a turn to see her new name and address written in squared-off letters on an envelope with Italian stamps on it and written in Mungo Craddock’s hand. Dictated by Laurence.
‘My dear Victoria. I was overjoyed to hear the news that you are to become a mother. Not something you will do twenty-four times, I imagine. You are much missed here but I am very well looked after by Mungo.’
She pictured Mungo sitting, oiling up, prosy and pompous, beard twisted in watch chain.
‘He has promised to stay with me for ever. We would welcome a visit from you at any time. Elena has been giving trouble by regularly handing in her notice. She cries, poor dear, and nobody can get to the bottom of it. Perhaps you will drop her a line?’
Victoria had never seen Archie Thorne’s writing but had no doubt as to who the second letter came from. Black ink swirledover a thick envelope. She saved it up – dealing first with Laurence ’s and writing to Elena.
‘My dear Victoria,’ Archie started, ‘Harold and I are going to Roland’s exhibition. I write to say that I very much hope – and expect – to see you there. Lettice is giving a supper party afterwards at the Ritz – a place you are familiar with, no doubt. This is simply to say how much I hope to be placed next to you there. In great haste. Much love. Archie.’
A third letter was from Lettice.
‘Darling. Oh! How beastly it must be for you. I remember it all so well. Do believe me when I tell you that it doesn’t last for ever. And oh! What a miracle to look forward to! Now. Prepare yourself! I am going to be rather bossy! After the exhibition Roland and I are giving a tiny duty dinner party at the Ritz Hotel. I am simply determined
A timid neighbour called to her from the window. Belinda, shrinking as she always did from self-assertion, had left her caron the road outside the garden boundary. She was the pretty daughter of an East Anglian rural dean and had been trained to believe in humility – a training from which she sometimes reared to relieve herself. That afternoon she wanted to take a cutting from one of Lettice’s roses. Lettice, much pleased, said, ‘How lovely for me to picture a bloom from my canary bird in your ravishing little garden. Nowhere could it fall on happier ground. To me canary bird is the symbol of summer and sunshine.’
When the cutting had been taken, although neither woman had the faintest idea if the time of year was right, Lettice invited Belinda to come indoors. She needed advice about the London dinner party.
Picking up a preliminary list, roughly written (bold italics kept for best), she waved at an armchair.
‘I really don’t know if I’m coming or going. The whole thing is a complete nightmare. So many people will be hurt. What can one do? I know that you and Jack will understand perfectly . We see so much of you down here that there’s hardly any point in meeting in the beastly hurly-burly of London. Are our less sophisticated neighbours going to see it in the same sensible way? You can help me here. If we don’t ask you (and you are known to be our closest country friends) then the others will be sure to accept it. What do you think?’
Belinda, aghast at being excluded, was too baffled and furious to answer.
Lettice’s words came breathlessly.
‘I can see that you, darling, agree with me entirely. I amgoing to give a cosy little dinner party here as soon as we get back from London. You and Jack will be guests of honour and I promise to remember every ridiculous detail of the evening to amuse you all.’
Chapter 6
V ictoria opened her letters. One was from Laurence. It gave her a turn to see her new name and address written in squared-off letters on an envelope with Italian stamps on it and written in Mungo Craddock’s hand. Dictated by Laurence.
‘My dear Victoria. I was overjoyed to hear the news that you are to become a mother. Not something you will do twenty-four times, I imagine. You are much missed here but I am very well looked after by Mungo.’
She pictured Mungo sitting, oiling up, prosy and pompous, beard twisted in watch chain.
‘He has promised to stay with me for ever. We would welcome a visit from you at any time. Elena has been giving trouble by regularly handing in her notice. She cries, poor dear, and nobody can get to the bottom of it. Perhaps you will drop her a line?’
Victoria had never seen Archie Thorne’s writing but had no doubt as to who the second letter came from. Black ink swirledover a thick envelope. She saved it up – dealing first with Laurence ’s and writing to Elena.
‘My dear Victoria,’ Archie started, ‘Harold and I are going to Roland’s exhibition. I write to say that I very much hope – and expect – to see you there. Lettice is giving a supper party afterwards at the Ritz – a place you are familiar with, no doubt. This is simply to say how much I hope to be placed next to you there. In great haste. Much love. Archie.’
A third letter was from Lettice.
‘Darling. Oh! How beastly it must be for you. I remember it all so well. Do believe me when I tell you that it doesn’t last for ever. And oh! What a miracle to look forward to! Now. Prepare yourself! I am going to be rather bossy! After the exhibition Roland and I are giving a tiny duty dinner party at the Ritz Hotel. I am simply determined
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