Dorothy Eden (7 page)

Looking for somewhere to sit, Dundas suddenly saw her and his face lighted with pleasure.

‘Miss Ashton! I was going to suggest this, but I was afraid you might think it presumptuous.’

Dundas, with his over-polite language that somehow was out of tune with his broad shoulders and thick-set body, and with his dowdy young daughter.

‘Oh, I shouldn’t have thought that,’ Alice answered. ‘Hullo, Margaretta. Are you going to sit with me?’

‘If we may,’ said Dundas with alacrity. ‘What are you drinking? Let’s have another.’

Alice unostentatiously pulled the coat out of the way and patted the couch for Margaretta to sit down.

The girl did so, and Dundas beckoned a waiter.

‘Is yours sherry, Miss Ashton? Three sherries, please. We’ll be grown-up tonight, eh, Margaretta?’

Alice said, ‘Oh, doesn’t Margaretta usually have sherry?’

‘Well—she’s never particularly wanted it. Have you, dear? Actually she’s young for her age, for which I am very glad. I have no wish to lose her for a long time.’ He laid his hand affectionately on his daughter’s shoulder. ‘It astonished me when she had a young swain who wanted her to go dancing tonight.’

‘Why didn’t you go?’ Alice asked Margaretta.

The waiter had come with the drinks, and while Dundas was paying, for them Margaretta said violently, under her breath, ‘How could I, with nothing to wear?’

But the next moment she was taking the glass of sherry from her father and looking her usual silent self.

Before Alice could make any further comment there was a stir at the door and every head in the lounge was turned to see Katherine Thorpe in a dark red dress followed by a very tall man come in. Alice realized that Katherine would cause this stir of interest wherever she went. Unlike poor Margaretta, whose father obviously didn’t want her to grow up, Katherine was dressed like a treasured woman. The man behind her was handsome in a dark medieval way, his face narrow and pale, his expression sombre. Alice remembered Camilla’s excited notes—
like Rudolph Valentino
—and understood what she meant. It was indeed remarkable that neither Dalton nor his sister had married.

She leaned forward impulsively to Dundas.

‘I’ve met Miss Thorpe, but I’d like to meet her brother. Will you introduce me?’

‘Certainly,’ said Dundas in his polite way.

He crossed the lounge and brought the brother and sister over. Alice’s heart was beating violently, not because, suddenly, she was shaking hands with this dark enigmatic-looking man (He looks bad-tempered, she thought involuntarily), but because of what, presently, she meant to do.

She heard Katherine Thorpe saying in her high excitable voice, ‘Oh, we’ve met already. Alice is coming to visit us, Dalton.’

She thought Dalton frowned; it was difficult to know, for his brows were perpetually slightly drawn together. She felt instinctively that he didn’t like visitors, perhaps particularly women. Or perhaps because, in a way, she was a successor to Camilla. Camilla’s chatter had probably amused him and drawn him out. Silent men often liked talkative women. Perhaps his sombre look now was because he was deeply upset by Camilla’s faithlessness.

‘Oh yes,’ he said stiffly, and Dundas broke into the awkward pause by saying in his affable voice, ‘What will you have to drink, Miss Thorpe?’

At that moment Alice’s breath caught. Then she controlled it and said with perfect calm, ‘There’s our bus-driver, Mr. Dodsworth.’

(Felix, I’m not going through the rest of my life losing my breath when I see you. It’s purely reflex now. Or if it isn’t you’ll just have to keep out of my sight.)

Dundas turned.

‘Ah, yes. He’s not really a bus-driver, you know. He’s an actor of some repute, according to Camilla. A most entertaining fellow. They treat him as a guest here. Shall we ask him to have a drink?’

Katherine turned and her brilliant eyes rested on Felix.

‘Oh, do,’ she said warmly.

Dalton’s scowl seemed to deepen. He laid his hand on her arm and seemed about to say something. Then he refrained, and Dundas was beckoning Felix over.

Felix’s lively smile enveloped them all. He said, ‘Hi, Alice. Hi, Margaretta.’ But over his introduction to Katherine Thorpe he lingered and his eyes swept warmly over her. Alice knew that look so well. She had used to deceive herself that it was an assessing one, when he was looking for new talent, but now she knew better. It was simply frank appreciation and admiration for a beautiful woman.

Suddenly it was easy to do what she had meant to because it took her mind off Felix. They all had drinks now, and Alice held hers up, saying brightly, ‘Why don’t we all drink to Camilla? We ought to wish her happiness.’

Was there the smallest hesitation? It was Felix who responded almost at once in his light-hearted deceptive way, ‘That’s a splendid idea.’ He lifted his glass. ‘Happiness and long life to Camilla.’

With gravity the others clinked their glasses. Now their well-bred faces betrayed nothing.

‘Long may she go on breaking men’s hearts,’ Felix went on irrepressibly. His gaiety was not forced, because now there was another beautiful woman at his side. (‘Why haven’t I met you before?’ he would be asking Katherine presently, his warm ardent eyes looking deeply into hers.)

Alice got to her feet. She picked up the fur coat and pulled it ostentatiously over her shoulders.

‘Though personally,’ she said conversationally, ‘I don’t think Camilla’s far away, because she would never leave a coat like this behind.’

Now she had everyone’s startled attention. She turned, displaying the coat fully.

‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘It must be quite the nicest thing old Cam’s ever had. So why would she go away and leave it? It was packed so carefully in a chest. At first I thought there was a body in it, but—’

She stopped as Katherine Thorpe, who had gone very white, groped her way backwards to a chair.

‘What are you suggesting?’ she asked in a whisper.

Alice sat down again slowly. She was aware that Margaretta looked frightened, too, her mouth hanging slightly open, her sturdy hands clenched, her eyes shocked. But most of all she was aware of the three men standing in a half-circle, Camilla’s three D’s: Dundas with his colourless eyes suddenly all black pupil like a cat’s at night; Dalton’s narrow face having a fierce controlled look as if there were dark anger or fear welling inside him; Felix’s brows drawn down in one of their storms of impatience, the way they had used to when someone overplayed or behaved without intelligence.

Suddenly she knew what the three men were like, the squat alert-eyed keas; and they, trembling Katherine, Margaretta in her hot childish dress, and herself, foolish and impulsive and not very brave, were the defenceless lambs.

And Camilla had been a lamb, too; Camilla who had fled leaving all her possessions, even her beautiful new coat.

Fled?

The queer tense silence was broken by Dalton Thorpe saying, ‘That does seem rather odd, I admit. But I know nothing about Camilla’s so-called elopement.’ His voice was dry. ‘I was not in the secret.’

‘It appears none of us were,’ said Felix with his irrepressible cheerfulness.

Dundas said seriously, ‘It’s all most irregular, as far as her job goes. School reopens next week. She might have thought of that.’

(How odd it was, Alice thought, that Camilla hadn’t left a note for Dundas as well as for her. She had always taken work lightly, but not with such irresponsible lightness as that.)

Katherine Thorpe leaned forward to Alice. Now there were two red spots of colour in her cheeks.

‘Why are you wearing that coat?’ she hissed.

‘I’ve just borrowed it,’ Alice said. ‘Camilla never minded my borrowing her things.’

‘I believe you know something about her. After all, how did you happen to arrive on the spot just at this time?’

Dalton moved forward. His face was thin and dark.

‘Katherine!’

Katherine’s face changed curiously. She looked for a moment as if she were going to weep. Then a blank look came over her face and she murmured something inaudible.

Dalton said, ‘My sister’s upset. She was very fond of Camilla.’

‘She was my best friend,’ Katherine whispered.

‘Not was,’ said Dundas in his brisk normal voice. ‘You’re using the wrong tense, Miss Thorpe. I have no doubt Camilla will be back to regale us with her sins! Eh?’ He gave his mild pleasant laugh. ‘She’ll be back for that coat, anyway. So what are we worrying about?’

Margaretta made a slight movement. Her eyes were on her father. She had a slightly hypnotized look; was it like a frightened rabbit? But what could be frightening Margaretta? What could be frightening Katherine? If it came to that, no one was completely undisturbed. Even Dundas, striving to restore normality, had perspiration on his brow.

Yet afterwards it all seemed like a damp squib. The tension had lasted only a few moments while each man wondered how Camilla had come to deceive him. Indeed, one wondered if there had been tension at all, apart from Katherine Thorpe’s nervous excitability. Dundas, in his efficient way, had arranged that they all eat together, and dinner had been a pleasant if not an hilarious meal. After dinner dancing started in the lounge.

Alice said, ‘What fun!’ and Katherine turned animatedly to her brother and cried almost pleadingly, as if she anticipated a certain refusal, ‘Oh, do let’s stay, Dalton. They hardly ever have enough young people here to start a dance. It will be fun for Margaretta. Oh, I’m afraid she couldn’t dance in those shoes.’

Everyone looked at the stout shabby brogues that made Margaretta’s feet look a great deal larger and clumsier than they need have been.

Margaretta flushed painfully. ‘It’s all right. I don’t care for dancing.’

Alice, suffering the girl’s embarrassment with her, at the same time wanted to shake her for her defeatist attitude. What was wrong with her? She had a face as dark as the eternal clouds over those Antipodean mountains of hers.

‘Margaretta, that’s unnatural! Of course you like dancing. You can meet that boy who wanted you to dance with him. Look, why don’t we go home and change your shoes?’

‘That’s a wonderful idea,’ said Katherine eagerly. ‘And I’ll lend you my scarf.’ She took off the filmy chiffon scarf studded with brilliants that had floated loosely round her head. ‘We’ll fluff your hair out a little. It will look so pretty.’

‘I’ve said I don’t care about dancing,’ Margaretta muttered sulkily.

Her father came up to her.

‘You go, my dear. Alice and Katherine are being very kind. Do as they tell you. Sad as it is, I am suddenly realizing you have to grow up.’ He opened and closed his hands slowly. ‘She has no mother,’ he said to no one in particular.

‘We’ll take the car,’ said Katherine gaily. ‘You men can have a drink while we’re gone.’

In the car Margaretta said explosively, ‘It’s not Daddy’s fault my clothes are shabby. There isn’t any money in photography now. We have to be careful.’

She didn’t speak again until she had reluctantly taken them upstairs to the austere little room where she slept. In comparison with the junk-filled rooms downstairs it was like a cell.

It came to Alice that probably Margaretta preferred the austerity.

Katherine was looking about her with wide-eyed interest. But she made no comment on the bare shabby room.

‘Make-up,’ she said. She took Margaretta by the shoulders and pushed her on to the stool before the mirror. There were brilliant spots of colour in her cheeks. She looked as if she were having tremendous fun. ‘You sit there while Alice brushes your hair. We’re going to make you the belle of the ball. Don’t look so glum, darling. You’re not going to be murdered. Honestly, a man has no idea. Your father’s sweet but he’s just blind to what a girl needs. And you can’t be that poor. Now where do you keep your shoes?’

Margaretta started up. She was biting her lip and looked so distressed that Alice could see she regretted ever letting the two of them upstairs to her room.

‘No, don’t you get up,’ Katherine ordered in her imperative voice. ‘Alice is to do your hair. Just tell me where they are.’

Almost as if in a trance Margaretta answered, ‘In the cupboard in the next room; The white cupboard.’

Katherine went out, and Alice began to brush Margaretta’s long thick hair. She could see her own head in the mirror above Margaretta’s. Her fair curls were tied jauntily on top of her head with a blue ribbon. Her face, pointed-chinned, animated, looked a much younger seventeen than Margaretta’s.

‘Just confess you would like to meet this boy tonight and have fun,’ she said. ‘Your father does try to keep you a child, and it’s wrong. How old are you really, Margaretta?’

‘Eighteen. Daddy forgets. I tell him, but—’ Margaretta broke off, and, fixing her hostile eyes on Alice’s reflection in the mirror, she said rudely, ‘It’s none of your business, anyway. Why do you go on staying here?’

‘Why, because I like it,’ Alice said in surprise.

‘You came to see Camilla and she isn’t here. So there’s no point in your staying, is there?’

‘But I like it, I told you,’ Alice answered equably.

‘But you don’t know—’ Margaretta began, her face suddenly crimson with some emotion. She stopped suddenly, and her square hands moved up and down her hips. The palms of them would be damp, Alice thought; and suddenly for no reason she was remembering the perspiration on Dundas’s brow when they had all been looking at the fur coat.

‘I can’t find anything suitable,’ came Katherine’s high voice from the next room.

‘Don’t know what?’ Alice asked Margaretta.

‘Nothing,’ Margaretta muttered. ‘But you should go away.’

‘Gracious!’ came Katherine’s voice again, on a surprised note. ‘Gracious, what
hoarders
you people are!’

‘I haven’t the faintest idea why you say that, Margaretta,’ Alice went on. ‘Don’t you realize we have to be friends, Katherine and you and me, because I have a hunch it will be us who really find out what happened to Camilla, whether she’s safely married or not. We have no ulterior motives like men have. And Camilla was a scamp with men. But she was good to me when I was a new kid at school and I’ll never forget that. So I must be sure she’s all right before I go away.’