Authors: Janet Woods
Julia’s dress was a turquoise silk sheath. It was less lavishly beaded than Irene’s, but delicate sprays of tiny crystals glinted like stardust through its sheer, silvery-white overdress. It wasn’t as short as Irene’s dress either, which ended just under the knee. Her own finished more modestly at mid-calf. Her new headband had a turquoise butterfly set with crystals to one side.
Irene twirled a long string of black beads. ‘You need a necklace.’
‘I have one in my bag. Latham Miller gave it to me for Christmas, and he wouldn’t take it back.’
‘I’m hoping he’ll come to the party. His country house is just a few miles away. He said he’d try and get here if he decides to come down from London for New Year. Let me see the necklace.’ Diving into Julia’s bag, Irene pulled out the jewellery box, opened it and gasped. ‘Why would you want to give this back? I wish he’d given it to me. All I received from him was an enamel cigarette case with my initials on it. It’s set in silver, though. I fancy him like crazy, you know.’
‘No . . . I didn’t know. I suppose he is rather attractive in his way.’
‘And wealthy. He’s a bit demanding though . . . forceful, that’s part of his attraction for me. He makes me shiver when he looks at me sometimes.’
‘Does he? I hadn’t noticed. When I’ve run into him he’s always been very kind and polite.’
‘Yes, but you’re probably not his type . . . at least, I hope you’re not because it would spoil our friendship somewhat!’
‘Are you telling me that you’re in love with Latham Miller?’
‘Oh . . . just a little bit, as much as one can love any man, I suppose. Some women are attracted to men with dark, wicked natures, that’s all, and I’m one of them. Latham is definitely wicked.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Here comes Ellen, so let’s not talk about anything private unless we want it to be gossiped about. She spies on me, and tells Mummy everything.’
Irene’s critical appraisal of Julia’s outfit was part envy when Ellen fashioned her hair back into its style with heated tongs. ‘I wish my hair was naturally wavy.’
‘Wavy hair is so hard to keep control of. Your hairstyle is striking, like a sleek black cap. It suits your face too. We always want what we haven’t got, I think. Thank you, Ellen, my hair looks lovely.’
‘Will there be anything else, Miss?’ Ellen asked her with a smile.
Irene stared hard at her and asserted her control. ‘Yes . . . You can tidy up my room and put everything away, and move Miss Howard’s things to the room next door . . . not that she’ll be in it much. Come back in half an hour, after we’ve gone downstairs. We want to talk in private.’
Irene had a bottle of champagne on the table and she refilled their glasses. ‘Has anything interesting happened since I last saw you?’
‘Daddy hired a manager for the factory.’
‘Is he anyone important?’
‘I suppose not. His name is Martin Lee-Trafford. He spent Christmas Day with us and I went down to Bournemouth with him to help sort his house out and bring stuff back for his flat in London. We took Daddy’s car and stayed overnight.’
‘Is this Martin Lee-Trafford old?’
‘On the contrary, he’s quite young and handsome. He can be terribly stuffy and serious on occasion, then he astounds me by saying something absolutely outrageous, and makes me laugh. I don’t think he quite approves of me.’
‘Then why on earth did you help him move house?’
‘I thought it would help me to get to know him better. He’s not been well, you see.’
‘What was wrong with him?’
Julia hesitated as she remembered his tears, and pity touched her for all he’d been through. It wasn’t her place to gossip about Martin’s condition. It would only be conjecture anyway, since she didn’t have his confidence, or an awareness of what he’d actually suffered. Depression she supposed. Vaguely she offered, ‘He was a casualty of the war. He won a medal for bravery.’
‘Oh, there are so many of them with medals. Boring really, since the war has been over for three years, but that’s all returned servicemen can talk about.’ Irene lost interest in the conversation as she emptied the remaining champagne from the bottle into their glasses. ‘Drink up. We’ll go downstairs afterwards and mingle.’
By the time they finished their third glass of champagne they were giggling about nothing. Irene posed at the top of the stairs, pulled her skirt up and revealed her garters, black on one leg, red on the other. ‘Hello everyone!’ she yelled.
A roar of laughter went up. Several of the men ran up the stairs. They lifted her above their heads then ran back down with her. She was tossed through the crowd before she was set down on her feet.
Julia wished she had the confidence to be so out-going. As it was she was chair-lifted by Charles and Rupert. Her hands frantically tugged at her hem as the slippery silk began to slide upwards. Rupert stealthily moved his hand between her thighs and ran his finger along her gusset.
‘Put me down,’ she said, shocked by the little jolt of pleasure she’d felt.
‘Don’t be so prim and proper.’
A space had been cleared for dancing in the hall. Charles pulled her into the thick of things, and they joined the others doing the tango. Charles was a good dancer, and so was she. Then the music slowed, his hand slid down to her bottom and he held her close against him.
He smiled calmly down at her when she tried to wriggle away. ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you, doll.’
Her blush came as she felt his hardness nudge against her. Oh, my God! she thought with a little thrill of nervous excitement. She couldn’t back out now, and was actually going to do it.
She saw Latham Miller on the edge of the crowd, gazing at her. Unlike most of the people here he seemed totally in command of himself. When he returned her smile she felt guilty about trying to return his gift, and she touched the necklace with her finger, drawing his eyes to it and hoping he’d forgive her for hurting his feelings.
The evening progressed, getting louder and louder. Irene did the shimmy on top of the piano, her hips shaking. You could see all the way up her skirt to her stocking tops.
There was a game of hide-and-seek, but the jazz music and dancing proved to be more popular. Champagne flowed like water. People shrieked with laughter or lost control and were ill. The place was filled with the choking acrid smoke from many cigarettes and cigars. It was fun to watch, but Julia felt sorry for the servants who’d have to clean up after them.
Julia was dancing with Charles again, when Rupert joined them, circling her from behind, so she was sandwiched between them.
Across the crowd she saw Latham Miller. He returned the beaming smile she sent him with a faint one of his own.
They moved towards the stairs and sat down. Rupert left, coming back with a plate of vol-au-vents and more champagne. Adam Oldham joined them; he was swaying a bit as he stared at her. ‘Hello, darling.’
‘The filling in these vol-au-vents tastes jolly strange,’ she said.
‘The cook was sampling the sherry when she made them, and she put too many herbs in the mixture.’ Charles held another to her lips. ‘Wash it down with the champagne.’
She did as Charles told her.
‘Has anyone got a gasper?’ Charles said.
‘I’ve got a reefer.’
‘That will do.’
Adam lit a cigarette, which smelled rather foul, and the three men passed it around between them. ‘Want some?’ Rupert asked her.
The end was sodden and she shuddered as she flapped the smoke away with her hand. ‘I don’t smoke.’
It was held against her lips. ‘Just one . . . Draw the smoke in and hold it.’
She did as she was told and everything seemed to slow down. The room swirled slowly around her when she stood, then it shifted back into place. ‘I must find Irene.’
‘The last time I saw her she was in the supper room talking to Latham Miller. They’re probably under the table by now, since Irene’s got the hots for him.’
Charles took her hand and pulled her down again. ‘Stay with me, Julia darling. It’s nearly midnight, and I’ll need someone to kiss.’
He’d been fun to be with, and hadn’t strayed far from her side all evening.
‘You can kiss me any time you want,’ Rupert said to him and puckered his lips.
‘Not tonight, dear one. I’ve got a headache.’
Julia giggled. ‘You’re being ridiculous.’
‘Actually I need to relieve myself.’ Adam got to his feet and strolled off up the stairs. Not long after, Rupert followed him.
‘I feel odd, Charles.’
The room spun again when she tried to stand up. ‘Oops, I’m all in a whirl!’
‘I expect you’ve had too much champagne. I’ll take you upstairs so you can lie down for a bit if you like.’
‘That would be terrific.’
He placed an arm around her as they went up, supporting her against him. ‘Thank you, Charles . . . you’re so kind. I’m sorry to spoil your New Year.’
‘Oh you haven’t, dear one. The fun hasn’t even started yet.’
‘Of course, I nearly forgot . . . there was something we had to do. This isn’t my room. I’m sleeping next door to Irene.’ She saw Adam and Rupert. Both of them were without clothes. Everything seemed fuzzy. ‘I think I’m dreaming, Charles. There are naked men here . . . your friends.’
‘So there are, which one do you want after me?’
The alarm she felt was lost in her lethargy. ‘I don’t think I quite understand.’
‘You will in a minute,’ and he pushed her gently on to the bed. ‘I’ll toss a coin, and you can shout out heads or tails. When we’ve finished with you, your goose will be well and truly cooked.’
‘Tails,’ she said, with a giggle as the coin spun in the air.
Seeing Charles supporting Julia as they went upstairs, Latham Miller headed towards the servants’ quarters and beckoned to his man, Robert. He hoped he wasn’t too late as he sped off after his prey.
Slamming back the door to Charles’ room, he entered, his glance going to Julia on the bed. She was still fully dressed, which was a relief, since carrying a naked female from the house was sure to draw comment.
He gazed from one man to the other. ‘This isn’t going to happen, gentlemen.’
Rupert stuck a finger in his chest. ‘Says who?’
‘I do . . . What have you given to her, Charles?’
‘Nothing much. We put a little weed in the vol-au-vents and she had a drag on a reefer. Irene made the vols. That’s apart from the champagne, of course. What’s the harm? She wanted to lose it, didn’t you, Julia?’
She wagged her finger at him, and said dreamily, ‘Then the lady did, and now the lady didn’t . . .
doesn’t
, isn’t it? Why have those men got no trousers on? They look funny with their little tails, or are they snails,’ and she laughed when they covered themselves with their hands.
Charles offered, ‘You can have a piece of her too, Latham.’
The clock downstairs began to chime the hour and the countdown began.
‘Happy New Year everyone,’ Julia said, and turning on her side began to gently snore.
Latham chuckled. ‘I’m having all of her, Charles. I promised her father I’d look after her, so I’m taking her away from here right now.’
‘No you’re not.’
‘We can do this the easy way and remain friends, or we can do it the hard way. I could squash you like a bug, Charles, and in more ways than one, so you really wouldn’t want me for an enemy. Either way, I’m taking Julia with me.’
When Adam took a step forward, Latham said, ‘Robert,’ and his chauffeur stepped inside. ‘Watch my back. I’m leaving with the lady.’
Robert was a big man and he folded his arms on his chest and stared impassively at the three men while Latham hefted Julia up into his arms.
‘Whoops-a-daisy,’ she mumbled.
‘What’s going on, Latham?’ Irene said from the doorway.
‘I’m removing Miss Howard from the premises. I won’t stand by and see her used by three men while I can prevent it. I’d be obliged if you’d fetch her bag and coat and bring them to the car.’
‘You don’t understand, Latham. Charles was doing her a favour. Julia wanted to lose her virginity.’
‘To three men when she’s barely conscious, and without her consent? I think not. That’s called rape in my book.’
‘Why are you being so holier-than-thou about it? It was only a bit of fun,’ Charles said sulkily. ‘How was I to know she’d pass out?’
‘Oh, put your clothes on, will you,’ Irene said to the other two, and to Charles, ‘Let him take little Miss Innocence with him. She’s no fun anyway.’ She turned to Ellen, who had just come up the stairs. ‘What are you gawping at, girl? Haven’t you seen a naked man before?’
‘No, Miss.’
‘Well, take a good look, because now you can see two of them for the price of one. A bargain, I’d say. Go and fetch Miss Howard’s things and take them out to Mr Miller’s car.’
‘Yes, Miss.’
‘Oh, and Ellen . . . if my parents get to hear of this you’ll be sorry. Do you understand?’
The maid’s mouth tightened. ‘Yes, Miss.’
‘Good . . . then go.’
Ellen’s back bristled with affront as she walked away.
Irene’s eyes were glittering. ‘You can go out the back way, Latham. Everyone will think you’re carrying a dead body otherwise.’ Her expression became one of fright. ‘Julia is still alive, isn’t she? I’ll never forgive her if she’s died. The last thing we want is a corpse on our hands. The parents would be furious.’
Irene gave a sigh of relief when a small hiccup came from his burden. ‘Follow me, Latham . . . and, Robert, please stop trying to intimidate my brother and his friends. Nobody will try and stop you from leaving.’
Adam took a step forward. ‘Back off, Adam, you fool. Robert used to be a boxer and he’ll break your nose with one punch.’
Irene was an efficient and capable woman, and despite her appearance, an intelligent one. Even though he didn’t altogether approve of her, Latham liked her a lot. They’d always had fun together with no strings attached, and he doubted if she would hold this episode against him. He hoped not, for he didn’t want their relationship to end – not yet. If only she wasn’t so indiscriminate about her personal affairs . . .
Latham was aware that he’d inherited a streak of Victorian working-class morality from his upbringing, despite employing double standards himself. He’d come from a poor background and his parents had been unable to think further than scraping by on the small amount of shillings they were offered as recompense for their labours.