Circle of Friends

by Maeve Binchy

  “Oh God,” said Benny.

  “So you might as well have the sausages anyway,” he said cheerfully.

  “I’d better go in,” she said.

  She straightened her shoulders and, trying not to look at the small boy who had thought her dress was ripped open, she held back her shoulders as she had promised Clodagh Pine she would and moved into the drawing room feeling like an ocean liner.

  Bill Dunne and John O’Brien saw her first.

  “God, is that Big Ben? Doesn’t she look fantastic?” Bill said, behind his hand.

  “Now, that’s what I call a pair of Killarneys,” John O’Brien said.

  “Why Killarneys?” Bill was always interested in explanations of things.

  “It’s an expression.” John O’Brien was still looking at Benny. “She’s not bad-looking at all is she?”

  Benny saw none of them. Her eyes were roaming the room to see if in the middle of this happy and confident throng her parents were standing, awkward and ill at ease. Worse, would she find them holding forth on subjects of interest only in Knockglen? Worst of all, would they make a scene when they saw her dress?

  But as far as she could see there was no sign of them. She peered and twisted, looking at the backs of people’s heads, trying to see if they were hidden in that group of older people, where a man with a very loud laugh stood holding court.

  No, they definitely weren’t there.

  She had seen a Morris Cowley pull away from the footpath just as they arrived. It was driven by one person. It was dark and hard to see either the face or the registration number. It could have been their car. That was what had unhinged her. She had fled straight into the cloakroom hissing at Eve to go in without her.

  “I’ll wait for you,” Eve had said, thinking that she was just going to the lavatory.

  “If you do, I’ll kill you, here and now in front of everyone. There’ll be so much blood your blouse will be the same color as your skirt.”

  “You’ve made your point. I’ll go in without you,” Eve had said.

  For fifteen minutes Benny had sat in the Foleys’ downstairs cloakroom.

  Several times she felt the door handle rattle when a girl wanted to go in and check her appearance. But there was a mirror in the dining room and they made do with that.

  Finally, she realized that there were no more sounds of people arriving and she emerged.

  She felt foolish now, and a dull flush of anger with Sean Walsh for having tricked her into thinking that her night would be spoiled spread over her face. She felt a sense of rage with the unfortunate Patsy that she hadn’t found out where the master and mistress had gone on a rare evening out. But most of all she felt an overpowering sense of annoyance with herself.

  Now that she was sure they were not in the room she could ask herself what would have been so very terrible if they had turned up.

  Slowly normality came back and she realized she was the center of a lot of very interested attention.

  “That’s a very classy-looking outfit.” Rosemary didn’t even bother to disguise her surprise.

  “Thanks, Rosemary.”

  “So, where did you get it?”

  “Knockglen.” Benny’s answer was brief. She wanted to catch Eve’s eye and tell her that she was all right again. But Eve had her back turned.

  Before she could get to her there were several more compliments. As far as she could see they were genuine. And mainly unflattering in their astonishment.

  Still, it was heady stuff.

  She touched Eve on the shoulder.

  “I’m back,” she said, grinning.

  Eve turned away from the group. “Am I allowed to talk to you or do you still have some kind of plan to carve me up?”

  “That’s over.”

  “Well then.” Eve lowered her voice.

  “What is it?”

  “Every single person in this room is looking at the pair of us. We’re a Cinderella story come true.”

  Benny didn’t dare to look.

  “I mean it,” Eve said. “The glamorpusses like Rosemary and Sheila and even Nan are expected to look great at a dance. You and I are the surprise element. We’re going to be danced off our feet. Mark my words.”

  “Eve, what would the Wise Woman do now?”

  “In your case the Wise Woman would get a drink, and hold it in one hand and your evening bag in the other. That way you physically can’t start covering up your bosom.”

  “Don’t call it bosom,” Benny begged.

  “Sister Imelda used to call it the craw. You know, like in a bird. ‘Make sure you cover your craw Eve,’ she’d say. As if I had one to cover.”

  “As if any of us took any notice of her.”

  Nan came up and put her arm into each of theirs. It was no treat for Nan to be admired, and she seemed to see nothing staggering about her two friends having emerged from the chrysalis. She behaved as if she had expected them to look magnificent.

  She spoke almost as a cat would purr.

  “Now, haven’t we knocked those awful Rosemarys and Sheilas into a cocked hat.”

  They all laughed happily, but Benny would have been happier if there had been any sign that Jack Foley, the handsome young host who was handing around plates with his little brother, had even by a flicker of his eye acknowledged that she was in the room, with most of her bosom bare, and if you were to judge by everyone else’s glances, looking very well indeed.

  The last car door banged as the young people left. John and Lilly Foley stood on the top step and waved good-bye. Inside there was still a lively drinks party with their own friends, and Aidan Lynch’s parents. Lilly knew she looked well. It had taken a lot of time, but she had found exactly the right cocktail dress, glittery without being overdone, dressy without it looking as if she should be going to the dance with the youngsters. It had lilac drapes and she had earrings to match it. Her feet hurt in her new shoes, but no one would know that, certainly not the tall handsome man beside her.

  “That was lovely, wasn’t it? You were a great host.” She smiled at her husband, full of congratulations as if it were he rather than she who had organized everything.

  “You’re wonderful, Lilly,” he said, giving her a kiss on the forehead, and he put his arm round her as they closed the door and rejoined the guests.

  All the work had been worth it, just for that.

  The ladies’ cloakroom was full of excited girls combing and lacquering their hair and flattening their lips out into grotesque shapes in order to apply lipstick. Two women behind a counter took their coats and gave them pink cloakroom tickets which the girls tucked into their bags.

  There was a smell of perfume and face powder and a little nervous sweat.

  Nan was ready before anyone else, unaware of the slightly jealous glances from others in the room. Suddenly their own strapless dresses looked a bit like something from the metal industry. They became aware of how the firm supports cut into their flesh. How could Nan’s hair look so perfect without having to be licked into shape with cans of hair spray? Why didn’t she need to dab at her chin and hide spots with tubes of covering paste?

  “I’m just going to have a wander round until you’re ready,” she said to Benny and Eve. “Then I’ll take you into the shop to meet my mother.”

  She left gracefully in a sea of other girls who were bouncing or bobbing or running up and down the carpeted stairs. She looked serene.

  Nan walked in one side of the hotel bar smiling politely around her as if she were waiting to meet someone.

  It was a place with dark oak paneling and red plush seats. By the bar a lot of men stood talking. Drinks here were very much more expensive than in an ordinary Dublin pub. This was a bar where the wealthy met.

  You would find county people, up in Dublin for the bloodstock sales, or some kind of land business. There might be stockbrokers, bankers, visitors from England, people with titles. It was not the kind of bar where you could ever come in on your own.

&n
bsp; But on the night of a dance in the hotel ballroom, a lone girl looking for her partner would be quite acceptable. Nan stood where the light fell on her and looked around her. It wasn’t long before everyone in the place saw her. She was aware without having to look at individual groups that everyone had seen her, and that they were admiring the cool young woman in the exquisite dress with the golden hair who stood confidently at the door.

  Just when they had all had sufficient time to look at her, she turned around and with a wave of delight moved off to the foyer, where Eve and Nan were waiting.

  “What were you up to?” Eve asked.

  “Surveying the talent in the bar,” Nan replied.

  “Won’t there be enough of it at the dance. My God, you’re insatiable, Nan Mahon.”

  “Yes, well less of that to my mother.”

  Nan led them into the hotel shop where an attractive, rather tired-looking woman sat by the till. She had fair hair too, like her daughter, but it was faded. She had a nice smile, but it was wary. Nan must have got her really striking good looks from her father, Eve decided. Her father who was hardly ever mentioned at all in Nan’s conversation.

  Nan did the introductions and they paraded their dresses for her. Emily Mahon said all the right things. She told Eve that the scarlet skirt looked much better on a dark person. It had drained the color from Nan’s face. She told Benny that anyone could see at ten miles that this was beautiful expensive brocade, and that the girl who had remodeled it for her must be a genius. She had never mentioned the huge cleavage, which cheered Benny greatly. If anyone else mentioned it she was going to dig out that modesty vest and reinstate it.

  “And do any of you have any particular boyfriends tonight?” Emily asked eagerly.

  “There’s a fellow called Aidan Lynch who fancies Eve a lot,” Benny said proudly, and then in order to define things properly for Mrs. Mahon she added, “And everyone fancies Nan.”

  “I think you’re going to have a deal with Johnny O’Brien yourself,” Nan said to Benny. “He’s been following you around as if you had a magnet somewhere about your person.”

  Benny knew only too well what part of her person Johnny O’Brien was following around.

  Emily was pleased that her daughter had such nice friends. She had rarely met anyone that Nan knew. They had never been invited to the school plays or concerts like other parents. Nan had never wanted her father to know anything about school activities. It had always been her dread as a child that he would turn up the worse for wear at her convent school. To meet Eve and Benny was a big occasion for Emily Mahon.

  “I’d offer you a spray of perfume from the tester, but you all smell so lovely already,” she said.

  They said they didn’t smell nearly nice enough. They’d love a splash of something.

  They leaned over to Emily, who doused them liberally with Joy.

  “The only problem is that you’ll all smell the same,” she laughed. “The men won’t know one of you from the other.”

  “That’s good then,” Nan said approvingly. “As a group we’ll have made an impact on them. They’ll never forget us.”

  They were aware that a customer had come into the shop and might want to be served.

  “We’d better move on Em, we don’t want you sacked,” Nan said.

  “It’s a treat to see you. Have a wonderful evening.” Her eyes hated to see them go.

  “Don’t hurry on my account,” the man said. “I’m just browsing.”

  His voice made Eve turn sharply.

  It was Simon Westward. He hadn’t seen her. He had eyes only for Nan.

  As usual Nan seemed unaware that anyone was looking at her. She had probably grown up with those looks of admiration, Eve thought, like she herself had grown up with the sound of the convent bell. It became part of the scenery. You didn’t notice it anymore.

  Simon did indeed start to browse among the shelves of ornaments and souvenirs, picking some up and examining them, looking at the prices on the boxes.

  Emily smiled at him. “Tell me if you want any help. I’m just having a chat here …”

  She saw Nan frown at her slightly.

  “No, honestly …” He looked straight at Nan.

  “Hallo,” he said warmly. “Did I see you in the bar a moment ago?”

  “Yes, I was looking for my friends.” Her smile was radiant. “And now I found them.” She spread her hands out to indicate Eve and Benny.

  Out of politeness he moved his eyes from Nan to acknowledge them.

  “Hallo.” Benny grinned. Simon looked at her startled. He knew her from somewhere certainly, but where? A big, striking girl, very familiar.

  He looked at the smaller dark girl. It was his cousin Eve.

  “Well, good evening Simon,” she said slightly mocking. It was as if she had the advantage of him. She had already recognized him and had been watching while he ogled her friend.

  “Eve!” There was warmth in his smile. Swift warmth.

  Now he remembered who Benny was also. She was the Hogan girl.

  “Small world, all right,” Eve said.

  “Are you all going to a dance?”

  “No, heavens no. This is just our casual Friday night out. We dress up a lot in UCD you know. Not scruffy Trinity students shuffling round in duffel coats.” Her eyes danced, taking the sharpness out of her response.

  “I was just going to compliment you and say you all looked splendid but if it’s like this every Friday, then I have been missing out on the social scene.”

  “Of course it’s a dance, Simon,” Benny said.

  “Thank you Miss Hogan.” He couldn’t remember her name. He waited expectantly to be introduced to Nan, but it didn’t happen.

  “Will you be going to see Heather this weekend?” Eve asked.

  “Alas no. I’m going to England actually. You really have been frightfully good to her.”

  “I enjoy meeting her. She has a lot of spirit,” Eve said. “And she’d need it in that mausoleum.”

  “It’s meant to be the best …”

  “Oh, it’s about the only place for you lot to send her certainly,” Eve reassured him. But she did imply that if Simon and his lot were less blinkered there would have been many more places to send the child.

  Simon let another tiny pause develop, enough for him to be presented to the blond girl if he was going to be. But no move was made.

  She didn’t stretch out her hand and introduce herself, and he wasn’t going to ask.

  “I must get on with my purchases and leave you all to enjoy the dance,” he said.

  “Was it anything in particular?” Emily was professional now in her manner.

  “I wanted a gift, a small gift for a lady in Hampshire.” His eyes were resting on Nan as he spoke.

  “Something particularly Irish?” Emily asked.

  “Yes, not too shamrocky though.”

  Nan had been fiddling with a small paperweight made of Connemara marble. She left it back rather pointedly on the shelf.

  Simon picked it up.

  “I think you’re right.” He looked straight into her eyes. “I think this is a very good idea. Thank you so much.” He ended the sentence on a rising note, where if anyone was going to give a name it would be given now.

  “It’s very attractive,” Emily said. “And if you like I could put it in a little box for you.” His eyes were still on Nan.

  “That would be lovely,” he said.

  Aidan Lynch appeared at the door.

  “I know I’m always the specter at the feast, but was there any question of you ladies joining us? It’s not important or anything. It’s just that the people at the door want to know where the rest of our party is and it’s a question that’s becoming increasingly hard to answer.”

  He looked from one to the other.

  Nan made the decision.

  “We got sidetracked,” she explained. “Come on, Aidan, lead us to the ball.”

  She gathered the other two with her li
ke a hen clucking at chickens.

  Benny and Eve said their good-byes, and Nan smiled from the door.

  “Good-bye, Em, I’ll be seeing you.”

  She didn’t say she’d be seeing her tonight, or at home. Simon watched them as they walked with Aidan Lynch toward the ballroom.

  “What a very beautiful girl that is,” Simon said.

  Emily looked after the three girls and boy walking through the crowded hotel.

  “Isn’t she?” said Emily Mahon.

  They had a table for sixteen on the balcony. Dancing was well under way when they trooped in. Girls at other tables looked up when they saw Jack Foley, and people craned to see who he was with.

  They had no luck in guessing. He went in talking to Sean and Carmel.

  Boys at the other tables saw with envy that Jack Foley’s table had Rosemary and Nan Mahon. That seemed too much for one party. College beauties should be spread about a bit. Some of them wondered how that goofy Aidan Lynch always seemed to be in the thick of everything, and one or two asked each other who was the very tall girl with the wonderful cleavage.

  At their table the plan of campaign was under way. Everyone was drinking a glass of water from the large jug on the table. Then as soon as it was empty the eight boys would each pour the quarter bottle of gin which they had in their pockets into the jug. For the rest of the evening, only minerals would be ordered. They would ask for more and more Club Oranges, and the gin could be added from the jug.

  Nobody could afford hotel prices for spirits. This was the clever solution. But the trick was not to let them remove the jug of so-called water, or worse still, fill it up, thus watering the gin. The table was never to be left empty and at the mercy of waiters.

  The bandleader called out that they were to take the floor for a selection of calypsos.

  Bill Dunne was first on his feet with his hand out to Rosemary. She had positioned herself near Jack, but that had been the wrong place. She should have sat opposite him, she realized too late. That way he could have caught her eye. With a hard, forced smile she stood up and went down to join the dancers.

  Johnny O’Brien asked Benny. She stood up eagerly. Dancing was something she was good at. Mother Francis had employed a dancing teacher who came once a week and they learned the waltz and the quickstep first, but she had also taught them Latin American dancing. Benny smiled at the thought that girls from Knockglen would probably beat any Dublin girls when it came to doing the samba, the mambo or the cha-cha-cha.