The business was thriving and the house was lovely, exactly what she had always wanted with its five big bedrooms and its three bathrooms and its big downstairs rooms, all surrounded by a beautiful garden; the children were well, and so was she; grimly she counted her blessings as the traffic jam at last loosened and spewed her out into the West End to look for somewhere to park. And not least of the blessings was Jay, who loved her so dearly and so often. She really had nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.
26
June 1953
Maddie was edgy and tired even before they left the house. The children had woken ridiculously early with the excitement of it all and had been bawling and shouting vigorously since before dawn, and the relentless rain had done nothing to lift anyone’s spirits. Jay was irritable with the children which made them even more bad-tempered and even Daphne, the new nanny who so far promised to be the best they had ever had, lost some of her sunniness and ability to keep the boys in check and became a little snappy.
They left the house just after six o’clock, piling into the Bentley with blankets and packets of rusks and flasks of the children’s favourite drinks. (‘There’ll be plenty of food in our suite at the Savoy, for God’s sake,’ Jay said. ‘Can’t they make do with that?’ ‘No sir,’ said Daphne sweetly. ‘They have to have their special blackcurrant and their special biscuits. Vitamins, you know.’) and joined the steady stream of traffic already clogging the roads into town. It took them twice as long to get there as it should have done, even with Jay’s special knowledge, provided by his friend at the Ministry of Works, of the route they were to use.
By the time they reached the nearest point they could, which was along the Embankment – and they only managed to get that close because of Jay’s purchase from the same Ministry of Works friend of a special windscreen sticker – the children had settled a little, as Daphne had told them stories all the way up, and Maddie began to feel a bit better. Her early-morning headache had subsided under the onslaught of the aspirins she had swallowed in recklessly large doses and Jay, though quiet, seemed his usual self.
She slid a sideways look at him and decided she had been worrying needlessly; he wasn’t at all in any special sort of state about the visitors. He’d said last night when he’d come in late from having dinner with them all at the Savoy only that they were comfortably settled and looking forward to the fun, and that had been all. He’d said nothing at all about who made up the party, and showed no special excitement himself. So, she had assured herself, she was worrying needlessly. She could have gone with him last night to meet them after all. He’d suggested it, and she had meant to, but the headache had been a sick one and had made her temples throb so dreadfully that she could not have lifted her head from her pillow, let alone gone out to dine.
But now she felt better and knew she’d been a fool to worry herself into such a state. The headache had been all her own fault, she thought as she stood in the rain, peering up from beneath the edge of her dripping umbrella at the lowering grey sky; all she had to do now was relax and enjoy the fun of the day and be charming to the American visitors. They were worth money to them, via Kincaid and Sons Inc., and that made the effort well worth while.
‘Maddie, you take Daphne and the boys and get through to the bleachers, okay? Here’s your permit – and if you have any trouble get a policeman to sort it out. Eddie told me there might be a bit of trouble with people trying to help themselves to booked places. I’ll collect everyone at the Savoy and we’ll follow you, okay?’
‘Can’t we all go together?’
‘It’s simpler this way. I’ve got nine people to collect. If we all try to go around in one big bunch we’ll look like some damned army and they’ll arrest us. It won’t take me more than a half-hour or so to round ‘em up – we’ll see you there.’ And he bent and kissed her cheek and cuffed Buster and went loping off westwards leaving her with Daphne and the boys, both of whom broke into wails as their father disappeared.
‘How do you mean, nine? You didn’t say there were nine –’ she called after him, but he was out of earshot and all she could do was shepherd the children and Daphne along the side street that led steeply up to the Strand to start the long walk down to Trafalgar Square and on to the Mall just beyond Admiralty Arch.
They shared out the packages between them, the rugs that Daphne had insisted were essential, the bag of food and drink and the children’s spare sweaters, and the umbrellas, and began the effortful trek, pushing their way through the crowds of people who were slowly moving along the pavements, arm in arm and plentifully bedecked with Union Jack hats, scarves and even trousers and shirts, and blowing the noisiest hooters and tin whistles they could find. It was a long and difficult journey and by the time they got to the Mall she was drenched – having long ago given up all hope of using her umbrella in the hubbub – and red-faced and her clothes, which had looked neat and attractive when she started the day, seemed to her to be unkempt and therefore cheap and shabby. Her full skirted grosgrain silk coat was a sopping rag and her hair curled in untidy tendrils on her wet cheeks.
And her appearance wasn’t helped by the fact that, as Jay had suspected, squatters had attempted to take their double block which gave them a dozen seats. When she showed the interlopers – a group of very noisy and half-drunk sailors and their girls – her tickets and told them they’d have to move, they got abusive, and jeered at her and even more so at Daphne who was wearing her nanny’s uniform, and whipped up support for their right to stay put from the surrounding crowds, who took immediate and noisy umbrage at the sight of bleedin’ toffs tryin’ to push Our Brave Boys about. Maddie got redder and hotter and more and more dishevelled as the argument went on, and knew she looked a mess, and that didn’t help. It was all sorted out eventually when Daphne managed to scramble down through the pushing crowds to fetch a policeman, who grumbled, but at last came, inspected their tickets and then turned out the sailors with dispatch, but the argument was still going on when Jay arrived, leading his party, and called her name loudly above the din.
She turned to see, and there he stood, with Cray Costello on one side of him and Gloria on the other. She was wearing a pencil-slim black skirt over her incredible length of very silken legs and wonderfully high-heeled little shoes and over it a broad-hipped tight-waisted three-quarter coat in dark green ribbed wool and silk, the whole surmounted by a cheeky forward-tilting flat pancake of a hat which held her hair well in check in front, while at the back the thick heaviness of it was wrapped into an elaborate chignon. The rain seemed to slide off her, leaving her looking only more dazzling and cool and altogether stunning and Maddie ran one hand through her own mop of now hopelessly untidy curly hair and wanted to burst into tears.
He hadn’t said she was here; if only he had she could have been ready for her, could have made sure she looked as cool and as gently amused as Gloria did; she could have competed. But as things were she felt she looked what she was: a distracted and far from efficient mother of two unruly children – both of whom were now bawling again, while Danny’s nose was running unappetisingly as Daphne struggled to prevent him from hurling himself off the high stand into the crowd below – who looked and felt squalid.
‘What’s going on, for God’s sake?’ Jay said, and he sounded amused, but there was an edge in his voice that told Maddie just how irritated he was to find her in such a state. ‘I told you, get the police to help if you have any problems.’
‘We did, but it wasn’t that easy,’ she retorted and then managed a smile. ‘How great to see you again, Mr Costello! Welcome to London. I hope you enjoy the little show we’ve arranged just for you.’
‘Hello, Mrs Kincaid! It’s great to see you too!’ He came forward, his coat, a fur-lined Burberry, Maddie noted, which must have cost a small fortune, flapping over an expensive cashmere and silk suit, and planted a tobacco-scented kiss firmly on her mouth. ‘It was real good of you and Jay to fix things up so we could get here. Worth every pe
nny, too, even though it’s so godawful cold. How do you people here live, for Chrissakes? Such weather and no damn central heating – it’s a good thing I brought my own,’ and he winked and patted a hip pocket which bulged neatly to show the shape of a large flask.
‘Hello, Mizz Kincaid.’ The slow drawl in the soft husky voice couldn’t be ignored and Maddie turned and smiled brilliantly at her.
‘How lovely to see you here!’ she beamed and leaned forwards and set her cheek against Gloria’s and kissed the air. ‘And do call me Maddie, please! I’m so glad you were able to come – and isn’t that Ellen Flannery there? It is! Lovely to see you again, too. We met once at the office in State Street in Boston, you remember? When you came in with your husband – and is this your little boy? How nice to meet you – Dwight, is it? Yes, lovely to have you here. Come and meet my boys, now. They’re a bit young for you, I know, but –’
She covered her wretchedness in a flurry of welcomes and Jay picked up her cue and began introductions. There were of course the Flannerys whom she’d met before in Boston, John James and Ellen, and she knew he was the owner of a string of taverns and bought all his liquor through Kincaids, and there were Mr and Mrs Martyn. ‘Benny and Rose to you, Maddie. Benny and Rose,’ said the woman boomingly, holding out a claw of a hand and grinning at her ferociously. ‘I’m so sorry we never got to meet in Boston. Your dear mother-in-law is one of my greatest friends, or was, till she got so all-fired religious. She sure ain’t the Blossom I was a girl with –’. And she cackled like a parrot, which she greatly resembled, dressed as she was in the most vivid of reds and yellows and greens and having a nut-brown and exceedingly lined face. ‘Since we went to live in California,’ she chattered, ‘it ain’t been so easy to keep in touch, except through business, but with my Benny sending out all his peaches and grapes and tomatoes through Kincaid’s to the New York markets, we manage to hear what’s going on. We keep in touch with old friends – it’s the way we are. And are these your cute little boys then? Oh, aren’t they just darling!’
And she went scrambling up the stand with an unnerving display of skinny wrinkled brown legs to sit beside the boys and start them off bawling again.
‘We haven’t met, Mrs Kincaid.’ A short square man in a neat double-breasted suit and very colourful tie over a shirt so white it made her eyes water, held out one hand. ‘Gian Giovale. It’s a pleasure to meet you. My brother Umberto is over there, talking to Benny Martyn. You must talk to him later – he and your father used to know each other way back. Did some business, you know, before the war – old friends. I’m sorry to hear your father is sick and in the hospital. I’d like to have an address, so we can send a small remembrance to him.’
She took his hand and it was surprisingly warm and dry against her damp cold one and she felt the first moment of pleasure she had since the party had arrived. He was a cheerful man and he radiated friendliness but it wasn’t that. She was puzzled for a moment and then realised that he made her feel good because he bore a fleeting likeness to her father as she remembered him rather than as he was now, the same ridges of glossy black hair shining with brilliantine and the lined forehead that made such friendly patterns when he lifted his brows. And she tightened her grip on Gian Giovale’s hand and said almost fervently, ‘How lovely to meet you! I’m so glad you could come!’
‘I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,’ he said, and stood back to gesture her on to the stand, where the rest of the party was with much chatter and laughter arranging itself, deciding who should give the two small boys a lap since there were seats only for the eleven adults and ten-year-old Dwight (a large child who, clearly, Maddie had privately decided, ate more hot dogs and hamburgers and ice cream than suited his metabolism). Gian seemed determined to sit beside her, and she found herself on the end of a row of seats, with him beside her, while Jay, she saw as she leaned forwards, was sitting in the row in front between Cray and Gloria, with Daphne beside Gloria. And then she grinned a little wickedly, for Buster, with great determination, was climbing over Daphne’s feet to get to his father, and was clearly intending to scramble over Gloria. That, she told herself with satisfaction, would be a far from happy experience for someone in such a stupidly tight skirt. And such fragile stockings, too, she added gleefully inside her head as she saw Buster’s shoes thump against the expanse of nylon perfection that was all too visible.
She leaned back against her seat and smiled at Gian Giovale, who smiled back. ‘Well?’ he said. ‘Can you relax now? The children are settled, so you can settle too, hmm? It’s not easy being a Momma.’
‘It certainly isn’t,’ Maddie said and her tones were heartfelt. ‘They had to get up so early today, it made them a little tired and cross and I do so hate it if they upset people –’
‘Listen, Mrs Kincaid, never apologise for babies. These two little men of yours – they are special, hey?’ He too turned his head to look along the line to where Buster was now sitting firmly on Gloria’s lap, swinging his legs so that his heels hit her shins with a thumping regularity. He seemed happy enough to be there, within touching distance of his father, and again Maddie smiled, seeing the look of discomfort that Gloria was barely able to conceal as Buster started wriggling as well as kicking. Maddie, who had had her share of Buster’s wriggling, sat back again, well satisfied.
‘Oh, yes, Mr Giovale. They’re special.’
‘Call me Gian,’ he said and closed his warm hand on hers again, lifting it and putting it down on his knee. ‘I can’t tell you how I envy you and your Jay. All I ever wanted was a wife and children of my own, but there, it wasn’t to be.’ He shook his head a little mournfully and she saw his eyes were glittering with tears. ‘My Momma was a magical lady, Maddie. I can call you Maddie, hmm? She was magic. She loved us and she cared for us and she brought us up good to show respect to her and to remember that there ain’t no one like a mother. Umberto and me, all we are is what she made us, and me, I never forget. And I give to all mothers the same I gave her, respect and any help they want and at any time. You never forget, hey? You have any problems with your lovely little men and you come and tell me and I’ll look after you and them.’ Again he lifted her hand and made that patting gesture and she smiled at him, enjoying his easy sentimentality. There was something endearing about this bulky little man in the neat suit, and it was not just the fact that he had a likeness to Daddy. It was his earnestness, she decided, and gave him the widest and warmest of smiles she could.
‘I won’t forget,’ she promised. ‘Now tell me about yourself. You are a friend of my father-in-law?’
‘Old Timothy and Umberto and me – we are like that,’ Gian said solemnly and twisted his two forefingers together into a tight knot. ‘For years we worked together. We go back to before 1933, you understand me? Before the Twenty-first Amendment.’
She looked blank for a moment and he grinned. ‘You English. You don’t know nothing, do you? The Twenty-first Amendment, Maddie, that was the end of Prohibition, right?’
‘Oh!’ she said and laughed. ‘Of course – it must have been a very exciting time, Mr Giovale.’
‘Call me Gian,’ he said again and once more made his patting movement. It was getting uncomfortable and Maddie wanted to pull away, but didn’t want to offend him, so she held on.
‘It must have been an exciting time, Gian,’ she said obediently.
‘It was a profitable time, I’ll tell you that much!’ And he laughed and beamed at her and she had to respond to his joviality and grinned back.
‘Hey, you two!’ Jay’s voice came to her out of the rumbling of noise that was all around them. ‘Pay some attention here! Listen, we have the hampers – we’re taking a vote. Do we crack open some bottles now and have a little extra breakfast, or wait another while until just before the procession starts?’
‘Now,’ Gian said promptly and Buster, still in Gloria’s lap, bawled gleefully, ‘Now, now, now!’ kicking vigorously and bouncing hard on each word.
&nbs
p; ‘You heard your answer, Jay!’ Benny Martyn cried loudly and reached for the hamper that was at the end of the row on which he was sitting. ‘Here, let me help.’
The next few hours seemed to Maddie to be interminable. They ate a great deal – Jay had arranged for rolls filled with smoked salmon and cream cheese to be provided to give his American guests, he said, a taste of home, and the champagne, though warm from its long stay in the baskets, was plentiful and Jay was generous with it. The children ate their rusks and drank their blackcurrant – narrowly escaping spilling it all over themselves and everyone within reach – as below them in the road the police and the crowds and excitement became more and more noisy and intense as the time for the procession came closer.
By the time it started, to deafening cheers and an outburst of waving and jumping that made the stands they were on sway terrifyingly, most of the party were very happy indeed on their champagne. Only Maddie seemed to have been upset by it, she decided as she massaged her temples discreetly and scrabbled in her handbag for more aspirin. At least she hadn’t to worry too much about the children. Danny was now fast asleep on Daphne’s lap, his thumb firmly in his mouth and his plump legs spread wide and helpless – and she melted a little at the sight of him; he was always so very endearing when he was asleep – and Buster was at last sitting still, curled up on Jay’s lap now. But even as Maddie watched, and saw his eyelids beginning to droop, a fact for which she was deeply glad for the child was getting far too fractious and excited and needed a rest – he lifted him gently sideways and deposited him back in Gloria’s lap.
But this didn’t disturb Buster, who simply pushed his head into her shoulder, and closed his eyes and copied his infant brother, pushing his thumb into his mouth and falling immediately and happily asleep. And now Maddie did not feel nearly as pleased to see Gloria with him. She caught a glance the girl threw at Jay, a sideways little smile, and a pang of the old jealousy came bursting up from the root of her belly like a hot knife.
Maddie Page 28
