good. She was at it again last night, rummaging through the wardrobe at two in the morning.’
‘I’m sorry, Sarah. Do you know what’s she looking for?’
‘I wish I did.’
‘Sarah, forget about the dinner party – your mother can do without you for one night. And forget about all this darkness, for heaven’s sake! Otherwise you’ll only drag yourself down. Tell you what,’ she continued, ‘go and see Mr Price now. Tell him, thank you, but no thank you. All right?’
I hesitated.
‘Sarah, Sam Merrifield is single again.’ She dangled the comment as an incentive. I was familiar with the mischievous gleam in her eye; I remembered it from when she had first mentioned her now-fiancé, Andrew Hampshire, over fourteen months earlier. She had known from the outset then he would belong to her, and now it seemed that she wanted Sam Merri-field for me.
‘All right,’ I replied. ‘Yes, all right.’ Immediately I felt lighter in spirit.
‘Tomorrow night then?’
I felt a smile spreading across my face as I pictured myself laughing and dancing with Amy and other bright young things.
‘Tomorrow night,’ I agreed.
As I hugged her goodbye I thought:
This is what good friends are for: they take us out of ourselves
.
But it was to be many months before I saw Amy again.
*
‘I wasn’t expecting an answer so soon,’ said Harry Price, throwing an anxious glance back over his shoulder into the depths of number 16, Queensberry Place. ‘Yes, yes, I’ll be back in a moment!’ His eyes flipped back at me, flustered. ‘My apologies. We were in the middle of an experiment. Not going exactly according to plan.’
‘An experiment?’ I chanced a discreet peek over his shoulder, into the darkened hallway, but saw nothing past the great staircase but an eerie glowing light.
‘Miss Grey?’ Price focused on my face again. ‘It’s getting late.’
‘Um … yes.’ Now it was my turn to be flustered.
Try to concentrate
, I told myself. ‘I wanted to give you an answer in person.’
‘Well, of course.’
‘And I don’t want you to think me ungrateful …’ I hesitated.
‘But … ?’ He arched an eyebrow.
‘But the position you offered me, it’s just not for me, I’m sorry. But thank you.’
Suddenly, from somewhere within the house, a woman screamed. ‘What on earth is going on in there?’ I demanded, trying to see past Price, but his sturdy frame blocked the doorway.
‘Have you made your final decision, Miss Grey?’
‘Yes … yes, I think so—’
‘You
think
so?’ His eyes were sharp in their scrutiny as he studied me. ‘And there was me thinking you were a woman who knew what she wanted.’ He pursed his lips. ‘I should have known.’
‘How dare you!’ I exclaimed, feeling my temper flare. ‘I’ll have you know, Mr Price, that women helped pick this country up when it was on its knees. And they didn’t just do their bit, they carried us over the finishing line. Women like my mother were remarkable and brilliant and brave, and they showed everyone what we can do!’
I hesitated, caught my tongue. I had made my point.
‘Thank you,’ he said, smiling suddenly. I thought he would be angry, but a strange look of satisfaction had come over his face, as if he had intended to rile me. ‘Good day to you, Miss Grey.’
‘Wait! My mother lost a—’
The huge door slammed shut and for a moment, stranded there, shivering on the doorstep in the gathering darkness, I had no idea what to do. Would he come back? Yes, of course he would. A person didn’t just slam a door in your face without intending the gesture as a joke, did they? And I wanted to ask him if he had found the bracelet. So I waited. One, two, perhaps three minutes. Nothing. Something inside me snapped.
‘Well, it was nice to meet you too!’ I bellowed sarcastically at the door, turning on my heel.
*
It was shortly before eight o’clock when I arrived home, welcomed by the crackling wireless announcing that
‘I’m sorry, Sarah. Do you know what’s she looking for?’
‘I wish I did.’
‘Sarah, forget about the dinner party – your mother can do without you for one night. And forget about all this darkness, for heaven’s sake! Otherwise you’ll only drag yourself down. Tell you what,’ she continued, ‘go and see Mr Price now. Tell him, thank you, but no thank you. All right?’
I hesitated.
‘Sarah, Sam Merrifield is single again.’ She dangled the comment as an incentive. I was familiar with the mischievous gleam in her eye; I remembered it from when she had first mentioned her now-fiancé, Andrew Hampshire, over fourteen months earlier. She had known from the outset then he would belong to her, and now it seemed that she wanted Sam Merri-field for me.
‘All right,’ I replied. ‘Yes, all right.’ Immediately I felt lighter in spirit.
‘Tomorrow night then?’
I felt a smile spreading across my face as I pictured myself laughing and dancing with Amy and other bright young things.
‘Tomorrow night,’ I agreed.
As I hugged her goodbye I thought:
This is what good friends are for: they take us out of ourselves
.
But it was to be many months before I saw Amy again.
*
‘I wasn’t expecting an answer so soon,’ said Harry Price, throwing an anxious glance back over his shoulder into the depths of number 16, Queensberry Place. ‘Yes, yes, I’ll be back in a moment!’ His eyes flipped back at me, flustered. ‘My apologies. We were in the middle of an experiment. Not going exactly according to plan.’
‘An experiment?’ I chanced a discreet peek over his shoulder, into the darkened hallway, but saw nothing past the great staircase but an eerie glowing light.
‘Miss Grey?’ Price focused on my face again. ‘It’s getting late.’
‘Um … yes.’ Now it was my turn to be flustered.
Try to concentrate
, I told myself. ‘I wanted to give you an answer in person.’
‘Well, of course.’
‘And I don’t want you to think me ungrateful …’ I hesitated.
‘But … ?’ He arched an eyebrow.
‘But the position you offered me, it’s just not for me, I’m sorry. But thank you.’
Suddenly, from somewhere within the house, a woman screamed. ‘What on earth is going on in there?’ I demanded, trying to see past Price, but his sturdy frame blocked the doorway.
‘Have you made your final decision, Miss Grey?’
‘Yes … yes, I think so—’
‘You
think
so?’ His eyes were sharp in their scrutiny as he studied me. ‘And there was me thinking you were a woman who knew what she wanted.’ He pursed his lips. ‘I should have known.’
‘How dare you!’ I exclaimed, feeling my temper flare. ‘I’ll have you know, Mr Price, that women helped pick this country up when it was on its knees. And they didn’t just do their bit, they carried us over the finishing line. Women like my mother were remarkable and brilliant and brave, and they showed everyone what we can do!’
I hesitated, caught my tongue. I had made my point.
‘Thank you,’ he said, smiling suddenly. I thought he would be angry, but a strange look of satisfaction had come over his face, as if he had intended to rile me. ‘Good day to you, Miss Grey.’
‘Wait! My mother lost a—’
The huge door slammed shut and for a moment, stranded there, shivering on the doorstep in the gathering darkness, I had no idea what to do. Would he come back? Yes, of course he would. A person didn’t just slam a door in your face without intending the gesture as a joke, did they? And I wanted to ask him if he had found the bracelet. So I waited. One, two, perhaps three minutes. Nothing. Something inside me snapped.
‘Well, it was nice to meet you too!’ I bellowed sarcastically at the door, turning on my heel.
*
It was shortly before eight o’clock when I arrived home, welcomed by the crackling wireless announcing that
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