Wise Child

by Audrey Reimann

  He whistled 'Happy Days are Here Again' through his teeth as he replaced Father's brushes in exactly the same position. Then he nearly jumped out of his skin when his cousin Ian opened the door.

  'Sorry!' Ian said. 'Thought it was free.' Magnus, relieved it was not Father, said, 'Come in. I've finished.'

  Ian was sixteen, taller and heavier than himself; dark-haired and, Magnus suspected, very handsome. Ian would sweep the girls off their feet, no doubt. Magnus glanced at himself again before asking, 'Has Mother told you about the parties?' There was to be one for the young ones at three thirty until half past seven, followed by an adults' dinner party with dancing.

  'Yes. Great idea -a party.' Ian's voice was deep and humorous. 'Your mother says that Sylvia. Rowena and I are to go both - the children's party and the grown-up ‘do.’

  'Not me?' Magnus felt his face redden. 'I am thirteen dammit! Am I the only one to be left out? I am not an invalid.

  'Your mother thinks so,’ Ian said. 'Seriously, you do have watch it.'

  Magnus gritted his teeth, determined to go downstairs and confront her. This infernal patronising of a chap! 'She knows I'm all right. I've seen the specialist in Edinburgh. Soon I'll out of her reach. Mother won't have any say once I'm at school.'

  Ian grinned and put his soap bag, shaving tackle and towel on the wicker chair. He went to the iron bath and dropped the plug plunger into the hole. The bath took ages to fill. He would need the bathroom to himself for an hour. He said, ‘I agree. If you are fit enough to live with us in Edinburgh...'

  'Exactly!' said Magnus. 'I have been pushed around by Mother.'

  'Will you stand up to her?' Ian said. 'I wouldn't dare.'

  'Wouldn't you? My mother? Why not?'

  'I don't have your confidence,' Ian said. 'I don't remember my mother. Apart from Rowena, and sisters don't count, I never know what women are thinking.' He held open the door for Magnus. 'Off you go.'

  Magnus found his mother in the drawing room, supervising the placing of chairs around the cleared floor, ordering the gardeners about in an imperious voice. 'Here with the Hepplewhites, Jackson!, Don't put the love seat in the alcove Watts. Keep the far end clear for the band. Oh! Really!'

  'Mother!' he shouted and saw surprise on her face as she came over. He liked surprising her. He had stopped calling her Mama, for starters. Men of his age never called their mothers, Mama.

  'What is it, darling?' She placed a hand gently on his shoulder.'You are handsome, my pet!'

  He could not remain cross with her, but he steeled himself. How could she show him up before his cousins? 'I insist,’ he said, echoing her dogmatic manner, 'I am going to both parties. I am not a child.'

  Mother climbed on to her high horse. 'I cannot allow…’

  He interrupted her. 'I'm going. To both.'

  She walked away, up the hallway to her little study. 'The servants will hear us,' she said over her shoulder. We'll talk about this in private. Follow me.'

  There was muffled laughter from the staff as Magnus went, angry, to her room. He closed the door and faced her. 'Father expects me to have a social life. If I can go to Edinburgh to school.’

  'It's your father's decision to send you. I wanted you to go to King's, in Macclesfield, where I can supervise..' She broke off, and concern came over her face. 'Have you been today? I don't think you went yesterday. Take your opening medicine if there is the slightest risk of...'

  He could explode. Father never said a cross word either to Mother or to Sylvia, but it really was time he spoke up. 'I have told you, Mother. I will not have you nagging, pestering me. I am better. Don't ask, "Have you been? Done anything?'"

  She made a sharp intake of breath. 'It's because of my constant devotion that you are standing here and daring to challenge me.’

  'Today is my birthday. Tonight my farewell party!'

  'I invited your friends to the children's party. Tonight is for adults.' 'Sylvia's one year older than me. Ray is fifteen. Ian and Rowena are fifteen and sixteen. Not much older than me.’

  She hesitated, then, in a pleading voice, 'You have to rest, darling. Build your strength slowly, Magnus.'

  Her tone of voice told him he had won. He filled out his chest, pulled his narrow shoulders back and stuck out his chin. 'You must accept that your son is a man. He is leaving home. And may never come back!' He was no longer her little pet, her little invalid. He would always have to come back because he was besotted with Lily. His love for her was growing whilst that for his mother was diminishing. He had loved Lily from the first moment of his life. Bolder now, he said. 'Soon I will take over the mill. In a few years' time I will marry. Have children.'

  He had gone too far. Mother said, 'I’ve told you, Magnus, as tactfully as possible, but very plainly. You can never be a normal man. Your last haemorrhage was into your..’

  ‘That's enough!' He would not allow her to talk about the most personal details of his manhood. Not even to him. 'I am normal.'

  She'd expect him to have his own way. He always did. She softened. 'Very well. You can go to the party.'

  'Can Lily stay for the dinner and dance?'

  Mother flared. 'Don't be ridiculous, Magnus.'

  'You hate her, don't you?'

  'I hate nobody. It's too close, that's all...'

  'You don't think she is good enough for me and Sylvia?'

  'I didn’t say that. There's nothing wrong with Lily. It's her mother I object to. Putting herself and her child beyond the pale. Letting her parents down by bringing the child up in the slums of Macclesfield!'

  'Jordangate is nowhere near the slums,' he said.

  'I don't want you to make so much of a childhood friendship.'

  Magnus only had to listen while Mother let off steam, which she did whenever he or Sylvia mentioned Lily's Mam. 'All right, Mother,' he said. 'I'll ask for your approval of my girlfriends in future. Then he left her study, whistling, as he went to his room to put on his whitest shirt and the new school blazer in readiness for Lily's arrival.

  By three o'clock Lily was ready. Nanna had brushed her dark hair until the springy curls were softened into long, loose ringlets tied with satin ribbon and fastened with a mother-of-pearl clasp. Mam had let her buy, from her savings, a pair of Cuban-heeled dancing slippers; silvery kid with crossover straps on her high, dancer's instep. White rayon stockings, shiny and opaque, were held up by six long elastic suspenders attached to a Liberty bodice; cotton drawers lay flat, not bunched up like fleecy school knickers; a fine white petticoat over them, and on top, the most beautiful party frock.

  Mam had excelled herself. The dress had gold-embroidered sleeves on a bodice of sea green foulard silk that dropped low over her narrow, childish hips before the skirt sprang out in froths of net frills upon silk flounces beneath a wide dark green sash of satin. Over all this she would wear a white cape that had belonged to Nanna's grandmother. It was in heavy, dense velvet and both cape and deep·hood were edged with white angora. 'I feel like Cinderella,' Lily said as Nanna fastened the cape ties. 'As if a fairy had waved a magic wand..’

  Nanna said fondly, 'I hope you have as many parties as a young girl could wish for.' She pulled Lily close. 'It's been like old days, getting you ready. Eeh! I remember your Mam getting dressed up to go gallivanting!'

  'That's enough!' Grandpa said. 'Our Lil’s only young.'

  Grandpa drove her to Archerfield in the trap. He was acting the gallant, saying she was his little princess and should arrive in style. 'We'll walk back,' he said. 'I’ll bring your overcoat and boots.' He looked splendid in the blue striped suit and black bowler he usually kept for Sundays. He wore his tweed overcoat and leather gauntlets. Though he was seventy-eight, he looked like a young man with his white hair hidden under the hat.

  There were two motor cars ahead of the trap and two behind in the slow procession down the drive that curved away from the brook towards the house. There were lanterns, more than two dozen of them, strung across the semicircular stone balustrade
at the front of the house. There was light enough not to need them, yet they burned and flickered in the slight breeze. Beyond them the front doors were thrown open to reveal the firelit entrance and Mr and Mrs Hammond framed in the doorway, receiving the guests.

  Grandpa halted and Lily sprang down from the trap. She heard the harness jingling and hoped that everyone had seen Grandpa's shining brass on the gleaming trap. Then she was on the top step and it was her turn. Edwards, the butler, was leading Clive and Bertie Ryle, a mill-owner's sons the same age as herself, towards the drawing room. Lily put out her hand to Mrs Hammond. Mrs Hammond ignored it and called out, 'Come back, Edwards. It's only Lily Stanway. Take her as well.'

  Colour burned in Lily's cheeks. Behind her a girl giggled. Mr HammoDd waved Edwards away and took her hand. 'All right, Lily?'

  'Yes; Yes, thank you…’

  'Magnus asked me to send you up to the schoolroom. He wants you to wait with him there until everyone has arrived.’

  She ran swiftly along the hallway and sped up the wide, carpeted staircase to the schoolroom that had once been a nursery. Magnus and his Scottish cousin were standing by the fireplace. Magnus, tall, gangling and with the same cool good looks as his father, towered over her. He held out both his hands. 'You look spiffing!'

  Lily unfastened the neck ties and dropped the cape into his arms. 'Thanks.' She laughed to see him standing there; not knowing what to do with the thing. 'Where's Sylvia?'

  He put the cape over a chair and took her hand in a proprietorial grip before turning to the other boy. 'Let me introduce my best friend - my best girl friend, Lily Stanway,' he said. Then, 'My cousin, Ian Mackenzie.'

  She gazed into blue eyes that were level and steady. Sylvia's cousin was taller than Magnus. He had a long, aquiline nose, sleek black eyebrows and a look of wavy black hair that fell forwards over a fine high forehead. He put out his hand, Magnus let hers go, and as Ian's firm hand enclosed hers Lily felt the strangest sensation, as if warm water were rippling up her arm.

  She knew how to behave from watching Sylvia and trying to copy her charm - not unfeeling like Mrs Hammond or bold like Mam. 'Hello,' she said without letting on that there was anything out of the ordinary in meeting him, in holding his hand. 'I saw you arriving this morning.'

  He let go of her hand and the smile that transformed his serious features sent another shock through her. His teeth were strong and straight and very white against his tanned outdoor skin. His eyes crinkled, and at the sides of his mouth, deep lines creased. 'We travelled overnight,' he said in a rich, warm voice. He made an attractive curly sound when he pronounced 'travelled', as if the consonants were rolling off his tongue. 'Arrived in Manchester at six this morning and were in Macclesfield for seven.'

  Magnus's voice was beginning to break. It would drop very low and gruff and he would cough to get it back. He said, 'Ian's sixteen. I'm going to his school so I expect I'll have to kow-tow to him.'

  Ian said, 'We'll hardly see one another in school.' At home you will just be my cousin, as ever.'

  Lily asked, 'Where's Sylvia?'

  'In the drawing room,' Ian said. 'We thought it best to leave her and my sister to make the introductions.' He smiled. 'Rowena might pick up a ew hints. 'Fraid we are a bit plainspoken. No English social graces.'

  Magnus said, 'We'll go down in a few minutes.'

  'How many are here?' she asked, looking at Ian.

  'About two dozen.' Magnus tugged her arm to get her attention, to make her take notice of him.

  'Anyone I know?'

  Magnus recited a string of names. Lily recognised only one or two until he said, 'And Ray Chancellor.' He said it like a boast, as if a god from Mount Olympus had come down and accepted his invitation.

  'Won't Ray Chancellor be at the mill party?'

  'Heavens, no. Wild horses wouldn't get Ray to a mill party,' Magnus said. 'He's too -too grown-up.'

  'Too clever by half,' Ian said.

  'Have you met Ray Chancellor?' she asked Ian.

  'He's in my house at George Watson's College,' he said coldly. Lily was full of bubbling happiness. 'I knew he went to a very famous school. Like Eton.'

  Magnus took hold of her arm, talking quickly and eagerly. 'George Watson's is a much better school than Eton, Lily. And Ray... ! You know Ray! Nothing but the best.'

  She laughed. 'I've never even spoken to Ray Chancellor.'

  Magnus took a very firm grip on her arm. 'Then you are in for a treat. All the girls fall for him.'

  All except me, Lily thought. I've already fallen for Ian Mackenzie.

  Ian straightened his face, tightened the knot in his tie and tugged his jacket into line. 'Let's go down.'

  He sounded a bit nervous as he went towards the door.

  Magnus whispered, 'Ian's afraid that Sylvia will catch Ray's eye.'

  Suddenly Lily felt small and foolish. It was silly to think she was in love. Why were they talking of flirting and eye-catching and falling for boys and girls? Would she be as far out of her depth here as if she'd been playing postman's knock at Pilkington Printers?

  Chapter Eight

  Chairs were placed round the walls of the drawing room and dozens of young people; Sylvia's new friends from the high school, their brothers and sisters - were laughing and chatting easily, as if they did this every day. Lily knew a momentary panic. Did these young people all live in grand houses like Archerfield? Were there other families who provided as the Hammonds did for their children? Were the others used to this? Then Ian's tall, dark-haired sister Rowena was at her side, smiling as she took Lily round the room to meet the other girls. Lily was not the youngest. Her shyness melted away.

  Opposite the fireplace, on a raised wooden platform, was a three-piece band of piano, violin and bass. There was a master of ceremonies, in tails, exactly like the one at the Majestic Picture House. Bubbles of excitement exploded in Lily when the MC held up his hand for silence and asked, ‘Has everyone been given a programme?'

  To a chorus of 'Yes, yes!' and 'Rather!' Magnus pushed a folded, deckle-edged, ribbon-slotted card into her hand.

  'Before the magician, you will see that we are going to commence with dancing. Please form two circles for the Paul Jones.' The master of ceremonies signalled to the band and they were off.

  The programme promised dancing, a magician, a dance, supper, a dance, a game of hide and seek and a last dance. Lily looped the programme's ribbon over her wrist, as the older girls did. Her knees were weak with excitement when the music stopped and Magnus stood in front of her, beaming with pleasure.

  'It's a waltz,' she said. He put his arm about her skinny waist. 'That's, A-one-two three and A-one-two-three, isn't it?'

  'Yes.' She was about to explain waltz time in music but they were whirling about the floor, she going very carefully so as not to knock Magnus's legs, he looking proud and grown-up.

  Sylvia, in pink chiffon with silver embroidery, was dancing with a tall, red-haired boy: Ray Chancellor. He had grown up so much since he'd gone away to school, Lily barely recognised him.

  They circled again, and in the next dance, the veleta, she partnered Ray Chancellor. Lily looked at Ray. He was taller and slimmer than his father. He looked like his mother, but he gave the same impression his father did, of tremendous energy and strength. He said, 'What's your name?'

  He brought out in Lily the very feeling his father did, that she wanted him to notice and like her. She wondered if he would look down on her if he knew she was Elsie Stanway's daughter - that they were poor, that his father owned their house and gave them cloth at cost. She was ashamed at herself for her thoughts, but all the same she just answered, 'Lily.'

  'I'm Ray Chancellor.' He cast his eyes about the room. He would hardly want to get into conversation with her, but seeing Magnus looking over, he asked, 'Are you the girl - the Lily Magnus talks about?'

  'Probably.' It was like Magnus to talk about her.

  He said, smiling down at her from his great height, 'Magnus says that yo
u are going to be another "it" girl when you grow up.' Everyone was saying, 'She's Got It' about Clara Bow.

  'Is that a compliment?' she said. Fancy Magnus saying that. Magnus had never been to the cinema. His mama was afraid he'd be bitten by fleas.

  Afterwards Sylvia and she demonstrated the Black Bottom while the others stood round, watching. After that a magician came on to the floor. The lights were dimmed and they sat on mats and tried to see through the tricks but they were all convinced of his magical powers when finally he produced Magnus's wrist watch from Ian's pocket. Then everyone came back on to the floor for the progressive barn dance, and Lily danced with Ian four times. It was a marvellous party.

  They were served a delicious supper of three courses, waited on by maids, sitting around the big oval dining table where candles in silver holders flickered.

  After the meal there was more dancing, a game of charades and then, it being dark outside and all the curtains having been pulled, the master of ceremonies announced, 'The last game of the evening, before the last dance. Hide and seek.'

  It was to be played in an exciting way. They were to leave the room one at a time every two minutes and could hide anywhere. 'Hide yourselves singly, anywhere a light is burning,' was the rule. Magnus and Sylvia were to remain until everyone had gone and then they were to search, each trying to find more players than the other. A box of stationery was the prize for the last person to be found. Lily determined to win it.

  She was the fifth to leave the drawing room. Nobody was about and she went fast along the lighted hallway, past the dining room, butler's pantry and flower room until she came to Mr Hammond's study. Normally it was locked but today a light was burning, and in she went.

  She'd never been in the study before. It was spoken of by Sylvia as Father's holy of holies, since nobody - staff, cleaners or even Mrs Hammond was allowed in. He must have relented this evening, for there was a lamp upon a huge mahogany desk. Around three walls were bookshelves. A small fire burned in the grate on the wall where a door, slightly ajar, led into a second room. The second room was dimly lit but she had to go in; there was no hiding place in the study.