A Daughter’s Dream

‘No, not particularly. Should I?’

‘He has beautiful hands, long fingers.’ She splayed her own. ‘I play the piano but not like Paul. I could listen to him for hours, but he is very private about his music. If he knows I’m listening without his permission he will stop.’

‘That is strange. Has he always been like that?’

‘No, not before the war. He used to play all the time then. Now he only opens the piano if he thinks he is alone.’

‘Have you ever asked him why he doesn’t want you to listen?’

‘No. Paul won’t answer questions like that these days. Eleanor knew how to coax him, but he just sulks if I try. Sometimes he sulks and I don’t see him for days.’

‘I shouldn’t like him much if he was like that with me.’

‘You probably would,’ Mary said with a sigh. ‘I like Paul despite his moods. I feel sorry for him because he is so unhappy. He hates his father. He never says as much, but I know. I understand him because …’ She broke off and frowned as if fearing she had said too much. ‘We are friends, even if it doesn’t sound like it.’

‘He is a complex character,’ I said. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like that. My father and brothers are very straightforward and uncomplicated.’

‘How many brothers have you got?’ She looked at me curiously.

‘Jon and Terry,’ I replied. ‘Jon was a pilot in the war, like your cousin. He joined as soon as he was old enough, but Terry is still at medical school. He is very clever and he’s going to be a doctor.’

‘It must be nice to have brothers. Do you have a sister?’

‘No. My father said three children to plague him were more than enough, but he’s always teasing us so it may just be that no more children came along.’

‘My mother had two miscarriages after me,’ Mary said. ‘Then I think they gave up trying. She slept alone. I don’t think she liked my father very much.’

‘Mary!’ I was shocked. ‘Surely that can’t be true?’

‘Yes, it is. He wasn’t always very nice to her, Amy, though he could be charming if he chose. I don’t know for certain, but I think …’ She broke off as a maid came out of the house carrying a tray. ‘Ah, here comes our iced lemon barley water. We’ll have some wine with our lunch, but this is nice on a hot day – don’t you think so?’

‘Yes, lovely.’

I sipped my drink and waited for Mary to continue what she’d been saying before the maid came out, but she didn’t. Instead, she started to talk about various functions she had been to and the people she had met. It was so peaceful, the only sound that of a blackbird trilling from the branches of a cherry tree.

‘We’re going to a performance by the Ballet Russe next week. They are performing the first showing of Stravinsky’s Les Noces. I don’t much want to go. Do you like the ballet, Amy?’

‘I’ve only been once with my school to see Swan Lake, but I enjoyed it – why don’t you want to go?’

‘We’re going with the Bradwells. Aunt Emily thinks the Bradwells are marvellous,’ she said and pulled a wry face. ‘That’s because Mr Bradwell was an equerry to the King before he retired. Their son is a major in the regular army. He must be forty or more, but she thinks he would be a perfect husband for me.’

‘You wouldn’t marry a man so much older than you, would you?’

‘No, certainly not. I wouldn’t have Major Bradwell whatever age he was. Besides …’ She wrinkled her nose in concentration. ‘I am not sure I want to marry anyone, Amy. My father and Aunt Emily both say I should marry into a good family but I don’t think I could unless I was in love. I’m not sure I’d want to, even then.’

‘I think it will be nice to be married, to the right man, of course.’

‘It might be worth trying if he was like Paul …’ She sighed. ‘That would never be allowed, of course.’

I thought I understood what she meant.

‘Cousins are allowed to marry, aren’t they?’

‘Not in my family. Aunt Emily certainly wouldn’t approve. She says there’s bad blood in the Ross side of the family and my father wants more than that for me. I think he hopes I’ll marry a viscount or something – and he doesn’t get on with Paul’s father. They had a huge row years ago.’

‘You wouldn’t really want to marry Paul – would you? Not if he’s so moody.’

‘Perhaps not.’ Mary looked thoughtful, unsure. ‘I’d rather marry Paul than most of the men I know, but it won’t happen. Daddy would do something to stop us.’ She shivered despite the heat of the sun, and once again I sensed something hidden – something that bothered her deeply. ‘No, I mustn’t even think of it.’

‘You might meet someone wonderful at a dance, Mary.’

‘I might,’ she agreed. ‘If I don’t I can always go off and become a nun or something.’

I laughed because there was mischief in her eyes and I believed she was joking.

‘Make the most of your Season first then, Mary.’

‘I intend to,’ she said and giggled. ‘My father is giving an evening party for my friends next Friday. Would you come, Amy? He phoned me and told me to ask whomever I want.’

‘He probably didn’t mean a shop girl, Mary.’

‘Daddy owns shops …’ She frowned, again seeming uncertain. It was becoming clear to me that Mary’s feelings about her father were very mixed. At times she seemed almost to fear him, at others to accord him a reluctant respect. ‘At least, I think he does. He owns all kinds of things. He won’t even ask who you are. I shall tell him I like you and he won’t care about anything else.’

‘Well …’ I hesitated and was lost as I saw the eagerness in her eyes. ‘I should like to come, Mary. What do I wear?’

‘A long dress of some kind. It doesn’t have to be extravagant, just fairly formal. Daddy doesn’t like short dresses, especially in the evening. He says decent women shouldn’t show too much of their legs.’

‘I had better not wear my best suit then. Don’t worry, Mary. I’m sure I can find something suitable.’

I decided I would wear the dress I’d made for my eighteenth birthday party. It was the only formal evening gown I possessed.

‘If not, I could lend you something. You could soon alter it to fit you.’

‘Not if I’m going to have your gown ready on schedule.’

‘I’m looking forward to wearing that,’ Mary said. ‘How is it coming along? Have you done any more designs that might suit me?’

‘Yes, one or two. I’ll show them to you when you come for the final fitting.’

Since the subject had turned to fashion, we talked about various ideas. Mary had heard of Coco Chanel, of course, but her aunt did not approve of the French designer’s casual style.

‘I’m sure Aunt Emily would have me wearing whalebone corsets if she could,’ Mary said and laughed.

‘My mother thought my Chanel-style suit was too short at first, but my father bought it for me so she couldn’t forbid me to wear it.’

We talked about clothes until lunch, and then Mary took me inside. The house seemed dark and cold after the warmth of the sun, but despite the formality I could see that it was the home of a very wealthy man. There were antiques, silver and what I presumed were valuable paintings and huge mirrors in each of the rooms we passed through, and the dining table was set with beautiful crystal, china and silver.

The meal itself was very nice. We had iced soup with watercress to start, followed by fresh salmon poached in white wine with tiny new potatoes, minted peas and green beans. For dessert there was a choice of lemon meringue pie or chocolate cake and coffee. The white wine was chilled and delicious. I was careful to drink only one glass, because I was afraid it might make me giggle. I wasn’t used to drinking wine in the middle of the day, or at any time really.