Refuge (21 page)

                ‘I say, baby, don’t do that!’ said Leo, laughing. ‘I can wait, you know. Come back to the mews house. There’s room there; we don’t have to do it here.’

                ‘Mews house?’ she said, looking up. ‘What’s wrong with the summer house?’

                ‘Well, if you come to Hartside, you can see the summer house,’ he had wheedled. ‘In fact, I’m having a blow there in a couple of weeks. Why don’t you come?’

The girl’s head snapped up. ‘Hartside?’ she said, her voice suddenly stronger. She moved quickly and she was on her knees in front of him. ‘I do know you. I’ve been there.’ She started to laugh. ‘I can remember you very well.’

                ‘Well, that’s just swanky!’ he said. ‘You see, we were meant to be together.’

                ‘Yes we were,’ she said and she wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling.

                ‘Jenny, darling, leave him alone,’ said a quiet, authoritative voice. ‘Not tonight, sweetheart.’ This Jenny-girl had looked up and Leo had followed her glance. Another girl stood there, wearing a flowing, ballerina costume exactly like something Isadora Duncan would wear. She even stood like a dancer, her feet poised just so. Her red hair was piled up on her head with a white ribbon wound through it and her eyes were the brightest blue Leo had ever seen.

                ‘Well, hello, doll!’ he said smiling at her. ‘How well do you girlies know each other? Why is it “not tonight, sweetheart”? Did you have other plans?’ He laughed loudly and pulled away from Jenny. ‘Can you count me in?’

                ‘I would simply adore that,’ said the dancer, ‘but I’m afraid I have other plans for you. Another time, maybe?’ She smiled at him and blew him a little kiss. ‘When is this simply marvellous party you mentioned to my sister?’

                ‘What? Oh – did you hear that?’ he said. The girl was moving in and out of focus now, the champagne and the cocaine beginning to take effect.

                ‘I heard everything,’ smiled the dancer. ‘I’m Cass. And you are...?’

                ‘I am, myself, no less than Leo Hartley,’ he said.

                ‘
Leo
Hartley?’ said Jenny. ‘But...’

                ‘Come along, darling,’ said Cass and helped Jenny to her feet.

Jenny bent down, apparently to take her shoes off.  She tossed them to one side and stood up again, swaying unsteadily. She pulled one hair pin out after another and her hair tumbled down around her shoulders. She swept it angrily to one side and began it claw her fingers through it, brushing it out with her nails. ‘Hartley,’ she murmured, then reached up to the young man. She wound her arms around his neck again. ‘One last time, my love,’ she said and kissed him. Leo started to laugh.

                ‘This “do” gets better and better!’ he said. ‘I shall see you on...yes. On the 26th. Be there.’

                ‘Most definitely,’ said Cass. She smiled at him and winked. ‘Are you inviting both of us? I hope you won’t decide later you’ve only got time for one of us?’

                ‘Never!’ said Leo. It was his turn to sway. ‘I’ve always got time for lookers like you.’ The room started to spin and he groped behind him for a chair. Precariously, he sat down on it and watched the girls sashay out of the room. Jenny picked her skirt up and seemed to revel in the swishing material, whereas Cass almost glided. Leo was looking forward to the twenty sixth. At least that seemed to be his thoughts before he passed out.

***

The red-head approached the house and shouted through the open door. ‘Leo! Leo, darling, are we in the right place for the blow?’

A blonde girl balancing a cigarette in a silver holder popped out of a side-room and looked the pretty red-head up and down. She took in her glitzy, fringed frock and the strings of pearls hanging down to her waist. Surprisingly, she smiled. ‘I say, I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure? Dear Leo acquires ladies wherever he goes – I’m sure we will have seen each other in passing, but I can’t recall your name?’

‘I’m Cass,’ said the red-head. She held her hand out to the blonde girl. ‘I remember you from the fancy dress ball. Weren’t you Marie Antoinette?’

The blonde girl laughed, the tinkling sound bell-like. ‘My, how observant you are, Cass. Yes, that’s very true. I was indeed Marie Antoinette.’ She dropped a theatrical curtsey. ‘I’m better known as Jemima.’

‘It’s a pleasure, Jemima,’ smiled Cass.

‘I’m Leo’s girlfriend,’ she said. 'Well, one of his girlfriends. It’s the lifestyle you know – one can’t be too keen on monogamy. In fact, monogs are so -
blaah
.’ She pulled a face.

‘You’re his girlfriend?’ That came from the other girl.

Cass took hold of her hand and pulled her close. ‘This is my sister, Jenny,’ said Cass.

‘Oh. Marvellous to meet you as well, Jenny,’ said Jemima. She held her hand out to her. ‘We can be Jenny and Jem; what fun!’ Jenny stared at her without smiling. The dress she wore was made of black lace and had chiffon drapes attached to the waist. The drapes fell down, skimming her narrow hips and forming a handkerchief-style skirt. She made no move to shake Jemima’s hand, and the blonde girl’s smile faltered.

She dropped her hand and turned back to Cass. ‘Come along in, then. Leo’s around here somewhere,’ she said. She flicked the cigarette ash into a nearby vase and headed along the corridor, peeping into rooms and calling his name. She turned to see that the newcomers were following her and saw Jenny hanging back, then wander into the drawing room. Jemima tutted under her breath. This one was clearly still recovering from some party or other.  ‘Jenny!’ she shouted. ‘This way, please!’ She turned to speak to Cass and saw the other girl looking pale and ill. Oh God, not another one that was going to vomit all over the rugs. ‘Cass – are you quite well?’ she enquired.

‘Yes, thank you. It’s just – well, it’s a little oppressive in here after outside, that’s all. Jemima, darling, could you retrieve my sister please? I don’t want to go anywhere we shouldn’t be.’ She smiled again, but Jemima could tell it was forced.

‘It’s an open house, sweetpea,’ said Jemima shrugging. ‘She’s welcome to go in; just she won’t find us later on.’

‘She will,’ replied Cass. ‘We’ve been here once before – eons ago, it seems.’ She narrowed her eyes at Jemima. ‘Long before you were on the scene.’

Jemima felt slightly miffed. She decided to ignore that comment. ‘Then if that’s the case, we should just go on ahead without her,’ she said tightly. She flounced away.

Just as Jemima approached the bottom of the grand staircase, a man came down the stairs limping and leaning on a polished wooden cane. He seemed to be in his late twenties and had a thin, haunted face. He was a good-looking young man despite that, and his brown hair flopped engagingly down over one eye.

His face lit up as he saw Jemima coming towards them. ‘Jemima!’ he said. ‘That’s where you are. I’ve been searching for you.’

‘Stephen!’ replied Jemima, blushing beneath her face powder. ‘I’m just welcoming some new friends to Hartside. Leo knows them. I seem to have lost one of them on my way though.’

‘I’m here,’ said Jenny. Jemima jumped. Jenny was standing behind her, looking at her oddly. ‘Some things never change,’ Jenny said. She looked past Jemima towards the portrait of Leo’s long-lost relative. She made a small
aaah
sound under her breath and walked past Jemima towards it.

‘Jenny,’ said Cass. There was a warning in her voice. ‘Come along, darling. We’ve so much to do before the fun starts.’

‘Now isn’t that a wonderful portrait,’ said Jenny. ‘Why, I think I’ve seen some pictures like that before.’ She reached her hand out and tenderly traced it down the side of the man’s face. ‘Will Hartley.’ She smiled and tilted her head to one side. ‘Hello, darling.’ Then she laughed. She turned to Cass, her eyes dancing with excitement. ‘I’m so looking forward to the party!’ she said. ‘Are you going to introduce us to your friend?’ She held her hand out to Stephen.

Stephen smiled and took it. ‘Stephen Masters’ he said. ‘Late of the Royal Sussex Regiment.’

‘Stephen was in the R.A.F. during the War,’ said Jemima. She linked his free arm, proprietarily; the one he leaned on his stick.

‘Afraid I left a chunk of my leg behind,’ he said. He loosened his grip on Jenny’s hand. ‘At least it got me out of the War.’

‘Stephen writes poetry, don’t you sweetie?’ said Jemima. Casually, she manoeuvred herself in between him and Jenny. ‘We’re great friends. Very lucky he came back to us.’ She looked up at him adoringly. ‘Very lucky indeed.’

Stephen met her gaze and his eyes softened. ‘Indeed,’ he said. ‘Jem and I go back years. Always thought we’d be together at some point in the future. Hey ho, that’s how it goes.’ He smiled ruefully.

‘Now darling, don’t be like that,’ scolded Jemima. ‘You left me.’ She pouted. ‘Can I help it if Leo came along in those awful years?’

‘I couldn’t hope to compete with him,’ said Stephen.

Jemima tinkled out a laugh. ‘Naughty boy,’ she said, tapping him on the nose. ‘It’s not the money...’ She bit her tongue. The two girls stared at her in silence and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. ‘Anyway. Leo should be here. Probably lounging around before dinner.’ She let go of Stephen’s arm and pushed open a door.  The man in the tennis whites lay sprawled across a chaise longue, an empty bottle lying on the table next to him. Jemima shook him roughly and he opened one eye.

‘Jemmy-emmy-ima!’ he slurred. ‘Marvellous girl. Come here.’ He reached up and tried to hook his arms around her waist.

‘Visitors, darling,’ she said. ‘Two girlies you might know.’

He sat up and stared at them, a light dawning in his eyes. ‘I say!’ he cried. ‘I’ve one of each tonight: a blonde, a red-head and a brunette.’ He laughed and squeezed Jemima. ‘Is Stephen here? We did invite him, didn’t we?’

‘We did,’ she confirmed. ‘He’s here.’ She looked around but Stephen had disappeared, the faint tap-tap of his cane moving through the corridors of Hartside. ‘Well, he was here. Anyway, we’ll leave you to it. Don’t forget to change, you naughty man,’ she said. She pulled another cigarette out of a stand on the table and inserted it in her holder. She leaned over and lit it from a smouldering stub in the ashtray on the table beside the empty bottle.

‘Excellent,’ said Leo. He lay back down and pulled a cushion over his head. ‘Ten minutes. That’s all I ask. Ten minutes...’ He apparently dozed off and Jenny looked down at him in some distaste.

‘He seemed rather lively outside,’ she commented.

Jemima tapped her forefinger to her temple. ‘It’s the stuff he takes,’ she replied. ‘Uppers, downers, you name it.’ Then she smiled. ‘I’ll get you some. They’re fabulous.’

***

Jenny drifted into Cass’s room just before dinner time.

                ‘It’s just as I remember,’ she said in wonder. She sat down carefully on the bed and smoothed the covers out next to her. Cass was standing by the window.

She glared at Jenny. ‘At least this isn’t the room,’ she said. ‘That would have been too much to bear.’ Jenny shrugged her shoulders and stood up. She wandered over to the window and twitched the curtains. A few people were milling about the garden and brays of laughter drifted up through the evening air.

                ‘They disgust me,’ said Jenny. ‘I hate them all.’ She turned to Cass. ‘It has to be tonight.’ Then her demeanour changed and she smiled. ‘Did you see his portrait?’ she said softly. ‘When do you think it was painted?’

                ‘Why do you care?’ snapped Cass. ‘It’s something I never want to see again. I’ve tried for years to forget his face.’

                ‘He was handsome, you must agree,’ said Jenny. She reached over and hugged Cass. ‘But it’s in the past. We have each other.’ It was the most animated Cass had seen Jenny for a while.

                There was a knock at the door, and Jenny darted over to open it. Jemima stood there, draped in a scarlet sheath dress, the obligatory cigarette had been replaced by a half-empty champagne bottle. She had painted a perfect cupid’s bow to match Jenny’s on her own, rather narrow, lips and smiled at her guests. ‘Are you coming down?’ she slurred. ‘Leo is wondering where you are.’