by Nancy Carson
‘How was the weather in Brazil, Robert?’ Virginia asked, turning to look at him with a girlish twirl as they went through the door to the extensive grounds at the rear of the house. ‘You look so tanned. Like a farm worker.’ She chuckled at the teasing slur.
‘Well, it was hot.’
‘Hotter than this?’
‘Much hotter.’
‘I don’t know how you could tolerate it, much hotter than this.’
‘You get used to it,’ he said. ‘January and February are the hottest. It’s the height of summer then. A tropical summer.’
‘Have you missed me?’
‘Of course I’ve missed you, Virginia.’
She looked at him with eyes that told again of her uncertainty. ‘How formal you sound. How remote. Have we been apart so long?’
‘A year. More or less.’
‘Yes,’ she sighed. ‘A year in which you had to live away somewhere, to get away from me. A year that I thought would never end … I’m terrified, you know, Robert, to ask what decision you came to – presuming you came to one at all. Yet I don’t have the patience to wait for you to tell me …’ She looked at him earnestly. ‘I presume you came to a decision?’
‘Let’s sit on that bench over there … It’s in the shade. Nor shall we be seen from the house.’
She wanted to take his hand or his arm but could not be so presumptuous. Not while she did not yet know whether he still wanted her. They walked to the bench unspeaking and she sat down primly, a very intent look upon her face. She looked into his eyes and smiled with all her commitment and unending patience.
‘Well?’
‘It has not been easy, Virginia, I should hate you to think otherwise. It was not something I did lightly, either, my going away. I have to thank you for your enduring patience. A lesser woman would have told me to clear off for good. But not you.’ He took her hand and held it tenderly. ‘Your loyalty was something I never doubted …’
She smiled graciously, flattered that he thought so, and encouraged by his words. But she needed something more positive, some other, more potent reassurance. ‘Your mother was …’ She looked into his eyes beseechingly. ‘She was talking to me while I was settling in my room. She gave me the distinct impression that you wanted to discuss with me naming our wedding day …’
‘Did she now? She always did like to interfere.’
‘It’s a matter I’ve already given a great deal of thought to, Robert, while you were away. I think either Christmas Day or New Year’s Day, don’t you? Which would you prefer?’ It was the oldest trick in the book, giving two choices and asking him to pick one.
‘Which would I prefer? Oh, out of the two I would prefer Christmas Day, undoubtedly. But let’s not—’
‘Oh, Robert!’ She let go his hand and flung her arms around his neck. ‘Oh, thank you, Robert. I love you so, I’ve missed you so …’
He took her wrists and peeled her arms away from him gently, held them at her side and looked into her eyes reprovingly. She was going too fast, trying to coerce him into the decision she wanted, when he had not yet had the chance to seek out Poppy Silk, wherever she was. He must see Poppy; he must know how she felt now. It was only fair … not least on himself.
‘Oh, Robert,’ Virginia said again, but with a great sob, her tears of unbounded joy turning instantly to sorrowful weeping as she realised his lack of intent. ‘Don’t tell me it’s not to be. I can’t stand it. Honestly, I can’t …’ Her shoulders shook with her blubbering, her face was a contorted mask of anguish. ‘I’ve waited all this time … All this time, hoping, praying that you still wanted me … that you would finally see sense and turn your back on her … that our wedding would … Perhaps I should go home—’
‘No … Don’t be foolish, Ginnie.’ He sighed and put his comforting arms around her as he imagined the response of her parents if she returned to them distraught. He would be to blame and it would have repercussions.
She shunned him, and stood up. ‘Yes,’ she snivelled. ‘It will be for the best.’
‘No, Ginnie …’ He could not suffer to see her cry in any case. He was such an inconsiderate cad bringing her to such depths of misery after such a short time in his company, and after such a long time absent. ‘It would not be for the best. Sit down … You are jumping to conclusions. No doubt you are oversensitive to my comments, my actions.’
‘You have been away from me for so long. How do you expect me to feel?’
‘I know, I know,’ he said soothingly. Maybe Poppy Silk was miles away anyway, living in some squalid railway encampment, the lie-by of some buck navvy who had already filled her belly with his brat. ‘I understand that you want us to be wed. Of course I do. I am not opposed to it, Ginnie. You mustn’t think that. It would be the common-sense thing to do …’
‘But?’
What had he been thinking? What stupidity had possessed him? Poppy Silk knew no better than to become the whore of some buck navvy. It was to be expected of her. She had been only sixteen when they parted. At such a tender age her attentions would have been quickly diverted. There was not the remotest possibility that she would still be in the Dudley area, much less hankering for him. How could he entertain such stupid fantasies when all the time this wonderful girl beside him, this lovely, chaste, devout, loyal girl, was breaking her heart because for too long he had been too blind to see the obvious.
‘Let us plump for Christmas Day, Ginnie,’ he said.
Poppy towelled her fair hair dry while Esther emptied the bath and nimbly skipped down the stairs with pails of soapy water.
‘Aren’t you hot, Esther?’ Poppy enquired.
‘A bit, miss,’ Esther replied.
‘I’m hot and I haven’t been running up and down stairs like you.’
‘But you just got out of a hot bath, miss. You’m bound to be hot.’
‘D’you think my hair’s dry enough yet?’
Esther inspected Poppy’s clean hair as Poppy sat down in her dressing gown. ‘Hold your head over your knees and run your fingers through it to get the warm air to it. It’ll soon be dry enough. I bet you’m looking forward to the party tonight, ain’t yer, miss?’
‘Yes,’ said Poppy, her voice muffled under her mass of curls. ‘In a way. In another way I’m dreading it.’ Poppy lifted her head up, revealing her flushed face. She had no desire to expand on things of such an emotional nature with Esther. ‘Oh, come on, Esther, I’m sure it must be dry now. It feels it …’
‘All right, miss. Let’s make a start …’
As Poppy was having her hair done, she heard the doorbell. Esther put down the brush and comb with the intention of going downstairs to answer it, till she heard voices and realised Aunt Phoebe had answered it.
‘Listen,’ Poppy said excitedly. ‘I can hear a man’s voice.’ She made to get up, but Esther pressed her back down in the chair by the shoulders.
‘Your hair ain’t finished, miss, and you ain’t dressed decent neither.’
‘Go and see who it is, Esther. It might be Robert Crawford. If it is I want to see him. Quick, so’s you can come back and finish my hair.’
Her heart was beating fast. He mustn’t see her like this. She would have preferred him to see her regaled in her blue satin dress, looking beautiful and desirable, but if it was him she would make the best of herself and see him now. She was dying to see the expression on his face when he saw her, for he would hardly be expecting to see her here at Aunt Phoebe’s … unless Bellamy had mentioned her.
She heard Esther’s footfalls as she ran back up the stairs.
‘It’s Bellamy, miss.’
‘Bellamy?’
‘Yes, miss. He’s talking to Mrs Newton. He’s called to see you.’
‘What’s he want, I wonder?’
‘You’ll know in a bit.’
Poppy sat fidgeting while Esther tended to her hair, wondering about Bellamy. Had he brought her a message from Robert? Robert said he would let her know his decision t
hrough Aunt Phoebe. This must be it. His long-awaited message. Curiosity and anxiety were tumbling through her simultaneously. Oh, that agony of waiting …
‘Have you done yet, Esther?’ Poppy looked up at herself in the dressing-table mirror. Her hair looked finished.
‘Patience, miss … There …’
‘Which dress do you think, Esther?’
‘Your day dress. The one you just took off. It’s clean. You always look nice in it.’
‘No, I want a fresh one.’ She rummaged through her wardrobe, found one she fancied and put it on. Then, she briefly checked herself in the long mirror and ran downstairs.
‘Poppy!’ Bellamy greeted enthusiastically. ‘My, you look radiant.’
‘Flushed, more like. I’ve not long stepped out of the bath. How come you’re here? Do you have a message?’ She looked from Bellamy to Aunt Phoebe. Aunt Phoebe shook her head discreetly. ‘So how’s your brother Robert? Returned safely I presume?’
‘Yes, he seems well enough. Not that I’ve seen very much of him yet. Virginia seems to have monopolised him since she arrived.’
‘Virginia? She’s there? Already?’ A cold shudder ran down her spine. ‘How long has she been there?’
‘She arrived just after lunch with her family and a corps of maids. And enough bags to sustain her in clothes for a week, I shouldn’t wonder,’ Bellamy replied. ‘Of course she’s staying the night, but why she needs all that stuff I know not.’
Poppy’s heart sank to the very depths of her being.
So that was it.
It was all over.
Virginia had won.
Virginia was there with him already. Poppy could just imagine them meeting after a whole year apart, the fond embrace, Virginia overflowing with tenderness, her soft brown eyes creasing into shy smiles, the familiar touching of hands. Of course, he’d let Virginia know as soon as he’d arrived back, invited her to spend an intimate afternoon before the party when he would announce the date of their wedding. Right now they would be professing their love for each other, their undying devotion. Virginia would be plying him with the sweetest of kisses, moving before him tantalisingly with her delicate, lovely body. Poppy gave a great, shivering sigh of desolation. So this was how it felt to be forgotten, to be overlooked. She had not foreseen this nightmare. She really had not expected this, not in her heart of hearts, so confident had she been of securing Robert’s love for herself. But how could it have been otherwise? She had been living in cloud-cuckoo-land if she had expected it all to turn out any differently.
For long seconds she stood without moving as a shaft of slanting sunlight penetrating the front window mirrored the sun’s stealthy creep across the afternoon sky. She was warm still from her bath, but she trembled as if chilled to her bones. In the brief silence she heard the slow ticking of the grandfather clock echoing hollowly across the tiles in the hall, like a metronome setting the turgid measure of some death march.
‘Do they seem happy together?’ Poppy’s voice was a tight thread, stretched to the limit with emotion.
‘I would say so, from what I’ve seen of them. Virginia seems very happy. Mind you, I would expect her to, having not seen old Robert for a whole year. She must be glad to have him back.’
‘And does he look well, Bellamy?’ Aunt Phoebe enquired.
‘In robust good health, I would say, Aunt.’ He turned to Poppy. ‘My reason for calling on you … It occurred to me that … well … perhaps you would like to attend the party as my guest tonight. I would be entirely honoured, Poppy. I dearly want to show you off – especially to Robert. I haven’t mentioned you at all. I wanted to surprise him with the most stunning girl. He was always the one to introduce some pretty girl or other before he and Virginia became engaged. Well, now it’s my turn. You’ll be far and away the loveliest girl there tonight. What do you say, Poppy? I could collect you and Aunt Phoebe in the brougham. Make a grand entrance and all that.’
This appealed not only to Poppy’s sense of defiance, but to her basic hunger for Robert’s acceptance. She cast her mind back to the times when he had all but pleaded with her not to submit to the demands of Jericho. His jealousy had shown even then. Well, no doubt she could work the same trick again, but this time with his own brother, and before his very eyes. Robert would have the shock of his life, and serve him right. And there was another aspect to this, which was beginning to dawn on her: she had diverted Robert before. She must possess some quality that Virginia lacked, even as a lowly navvy’s daughter. She was evidently blessed with some magic string or other that she could pull, that would have Robert dancing to her own tune. Tonight, she would look her absolute loveliest. Tonight, she would be tantalisingly charming, attentive and utterly vivacious … with Bellamy … Robert had only ever known her as an impoverished waif from a railway cutting. He had no notion of the confident, elegant young lady she had become. Well, he was in for quite a surprise. The humble caterpillar had turned into a dazzling butterfly.
Poppy smiled sweetly at Bellamy and glanced at Aunt Phoebe for her consent, receiving a faintly amused look and a barely noticeable nod of the head in reply.
‘I think that would be a splendid idea,’ she said eagerly, eyes sparkling with impishness. If all else failed, if she couldn’t have Robert after all, she could have the next best thing, his younger brother … and it would truly be one in the eye for Robert …
‘Excellent,’ Bellamy said with a broad grin of satisfaction. ‘Shall we say quarter to nine? I want to make as grand an entrance as possible with you on my arm, Poppy.’
‘It sounds perfect,’ she said.
Most of the guests had arrived and had been greeted by Robert, with Virginia proprietorially at his side, parents hovering in the background. Slowly, everybody made their way to the large, oblong room at the rear of the house that had been adapted to resemble a ballroom. Sofas, chairs and tables had either been shifted or removed so that couples would have room to dance in the centre. The four-piece band were performing at one end and there was a table with drinks at the other, close to the door through which everybody was drifting in a haze of tobacco smoke and a rumble of conversation intermingled with laughter. Built into the long wall that faced the garden was a marble fireplace, devoid of any fire on this warm, sultry night. Set in the opposite wall was a French window, open to allow the free circulation of air. Already, the candles were lit as daylight began to fade.
Men patted Robert on the back matily, and fawned with a simpering attentiveness over Virginia, who looked flushed and shy and demure.
‘Good evening, everybody,’ a man’s voice boomed, obviously trying to gain the attention of every person in the room. It was Bellamy.
Beside him was a flaxen-haired young woman who was radiantly beautiful, her pale skin smooth and flawless with the translucence of the finest Dresden bone china. Her slanting blue eyes sparkled and danced as they reflected the tiny flames of the several candelabra. Her lips, as she smiled so appealingly, revealed her perfectly even teeth. Everybody turned to look and a hush descended over the room at the sight of her. The envious glances of not only the men but the women as well, as they raked the length of the girl’s body, statuesque in a gown of blue satin, told her how desirable she looked.
Robert Crawford saw and he gasped with incredulity. The girl looked astonishingly like Poppy Silk. But it could not possibly be, for Virginia shrieked with delight and rushed over to greet her, and she did not know Poppy Silk from Adam. Astounded at the likeness, he scrutinised her more as he was left standing alone.
‘Poppy! Oh, how delightful to see you,’ Virginia gushed, ‘and looking so utterly ravishing … Bellamy, I never knew you and Poppy were friends. Such a coincidence. Such an astonishing coincidence. I must introduce her to Robert at once …’ She turned back to Poppy excitedly. ‘Poppy, do come and meet my fiancé, Mr Robert Crawford. But fancy you knowing Robert’s brother. You never said … You are a dark horse …’ She took Poppy’s hand and led her eagerly over to Robe
rt, with Bellamy in tow.
‘I would have said,’ Poppy declared, ‘but I had no idea that Bellamy was the brother of your fiancé. I didn’t even know you had a fiancé till last time we met, Virginia.’
‘Of course, that’s true. How silly of me not to realise … But isn’t it a wonderful coincidence?’
They reached Robert, and Poppy’s heart was pounding like a drum. He looked leaner, fitter and his skin was tanned, which she thought made him look even more handsome. She wanted to run to him; to slip her arms around him and hug him to her. This was the man she had yearned for, for so many long and empty months, for so many empty nights alone in her bed. She wanted to feel his arms embracing her, squeezing her tight, whispering words of love in her ear. She wanted to sniff his skin, be as intimate with him as she had been before.
‘Robert, I want you to meet my friend, Miss Poppy Silk,’ Virginia said. ‘Poppy, Robert Crawford …’
‘Miss Silk,’ he said, and there was an audible tremor in his voice as he offered his hand. ‘It is indeed a pleasure to meet you … and such a pleasant surprise …’ His eyebrows twitched, which elicited a smile from Poppy. Could she assume from his look that he was all at once agonised with some inner struggle which he had not anticipated, and which he must unexpectedly endure?
Poppy was stumped for words but it did not matter. Virginia was gushing, bubbling with vivaciousness.
‘Poppy and I have been close friends for a while, Robert,’ she explained. ‘She has such common-sense notions about the world. You must discuss them with her sometime.’
The rest of the guests turned their attentions back to each other and resumed their conversations.
Robert said, ‘So you are a friend of my brother Bellamy, Miss Silk?’
‘Oh, please call me Poppy,’ she said, finding her voice at last, and feeling a little mischievous. She gave him a devastating smile that had him reeling. ‘Already I feel as if I have known you ages.’
