Dream a Little Dream

by Joan Jonker

  Kitty carried the bucket as far as the door before turning. ‘If anyone should know, it’s you, queen. Ye’re very knowlickable when it comes to the well-off.’

  Agnes tutted. ‘Did you not learn anything at school, sunshine? It’s not knowlickable, it’s knowledgeable.’

  A slow smile crossed Kitty’s thin face. ‘What have I just said, queen? A proper bleedin’ know-it-all, that’s what yer are.’

  Agnes raised a clenched fist and winked at Jessie, who was standing behind the cleaner. ‘Hit her for me, sunshine, ye’re nearer than I am.’

  ‘No fear!’ The girl shrank back in feigned horror. She was getting used to the two women now, and their humour. ‘Little as she is, she’d have me guts for garters.’

  ‘I don’t wear no garters, queen,’ Kitty said, her shoulders shaking with laughter. ‘I keep me stockings up with a piece of string.’

  Agnes was determined to get the last word in, so she followed the cleaners into the hall. ‘My mam always made me wear a clean pair of knickers every day, in case I had an accident and ended up in hospital. It would be the price of yer, Kitty Higgins, if you had an accident and ended up in a hospital bed. Think how bad yer’d feel if yer woke up to find a doctor trying to undo the piece of string.’

  ‘Nah, I wouldn’t feel bad, queen. I mean, when I woke up I’d be unconscious, wouldn’t I, so it wouldn’t make no matter.’ With that Kitty trundled up the stairs, followed by a giggling Jessie – and leaving the housekeeper gazing after them with her hands on her hips and telling herself she might have known the little woman would have the last word. However, the day was young, and there was plenty of time to get her own back. But whatever she did would have to be good; she didn’t want to be left with egg on her face.

  Sitting at the breakfast-table, Victoria waited until the door closed on Agnes before asking, ‘What on earth is wrong with Father? Why would he want to involve anyone in this family with all those dreadfully common people?’

  ‘They are not dreadfully common people, Victoria, certainly my parents are not.’ Edwina seldom disagreed with her eldest daughter, but the things Robert had said to her last night had been playing on her mind. She didn’t feel guilty, nor did she intend changing the way things were. But to admit to her parents being common would be admitting that she herself had at one time also been common. ‘But I do agree that he is being stupid in the extreme to encourage any sort of friendship between Nigel, Abbie, and people who, at one time, just happened to be our neighbours. But your father is in a difficult mood, Victoria, and we must tread very carefully because he holds the trump card, and that is money.’

  ‘He has been very inconsiderate in his timing, Mother, because I was going to suggest having the Chisholms to dinner one night. Charles and I are getting on very well, and it would help the courtship along if the two families became closer. We could also invite the Thompson-Brownes to make the numbers up.’

  ‘I see no reason why Robert would object to you having a dinner party. He has spent money on a car for Nigel, so it would be churlish of him to refuse you. I know he finds dinner parties boring, but he’ll just have to grin and bear it.’ Edwina turned a piece of toast over before buttering it. The bread was a lovely golden brown, absolutely perfect. But she had to find fault with it. ‘The bread is very lightly toasted today, not quite to my liking. I’ll have to have a word with Agnes and ask that she be consistent.’

  ‘Not harsh words, Mother, you know how easily Agnes can be upset. And she is so good at preparing for dinner parties. I remember the last time we had one, the guests were raving about her pastry. They said it was so light it melted in the mouth. And Bernice Thompson-Browne said she’d snap Agnes up if ever she was looking for a new post.’

  ‘I wouldn’t put it past Bernice to try and poach her from us. Each time she comes she visits the kitchen to compliment Agnes in glowing terms on the dinner. But I think we’re pretty safe with our housekeeper. Not because she cares for you and me, but because she is very fond of Robert.’

  ‘I wonder if I should broach the subject over dinner tonight? Or do you think the timing is bad? It’s just that it would take two weeks to arrange a night for the dinner party, by the time a date is decided which suits everyone.’

  ‘Why would it be bad timing? Your father won’t know I have told you what he’s been up to behind my back. So be pleasant, ask him nicely and he can’t refuse. Especially as you and Charles are practically engaged.’

  ‘Hardly that, Mother, but getting closer, I think. I’m twenty-two years of age, and it’s time I found myself a husband. Oh, I’ve had several suitors after my hand, but I wouldn’t be bettering myself if I’d married them. I’m ambitious, Mother dear, and marrying into the Chisholm family would be a real achievement. A definite upward move.’

  ‘And you really love Charles, don’t you, dear?’

  Victoria bit back a sigh of impatience as she turned her head to roll her eyes at the ceiling. Really, her mother could be so naive sometimes. Love had nothing to do with her wanting to marry Charles. In fact, his conversations bored her stiff, and although she encouraged his passionate advances, they left her cold. ‘I am fond of him, Mother, but I’m even more fond of his money. I could live in luxury for the rest of my life, waited on hand and foot.’

  ‘His father has control of the money, Victoria, and it will be many years before he retires and Charles takes his place. And he’s quite a hard man, is George Chisholm.’

  ‘I get on very well with him, Mother!’ Victoria bridled, but she wished it was true. Charles very seldom took her to his home, and even then it was at her insistence. His parents were pleasant enough but there was no warmth there. And not for a minute did she believe the excuse his mother made for turning down her offer to help with the charity work. They had plenty of volunteers at the present time, Annabel Chisholm had told her, smiling sweetly. But she’d be the first they called on if the need arose. Although Victoria had been seething at being turned down, she didn’t let it show and gushingly told Annabel she quite understood. Anyway, it was Charles she was trying to entice, not his parents. ‘He is certainly not mean with money where Charles and Clarissa are concerned. They only have to mention they like something and it’s there. I have no doubt whatsoever that when Charles marries, he will be set up in a suitable residence, complete with staff and a very generous allowance.’

  ‘Then speak with your father tonight,’ Edwina told her. ‘Get it settled, then you can start planning.’

  ‘I’d like a new dress for the occasion, Mother, I want to make a good impression. Shall I mention this to Father as well, or would that be going too far?’

  Victoria’s craftiness paid off, as she knew it would. ‘I have some money put aside – I’ll buy the dress for you,’ Edwina said. ‘You get your father’s permission for the dinner party and we’ll take it from there. By the way, how many people are you thinking of ?’

  ‘I thought eight would be a nice round number. The Chisholms, Thompson-Brownes, you and Father and Charles and I.’

  ‘What about Nigel and Abbie? Would you be asking them?’

  ‘Not if I can help it!’ Victoria gave a snort. ‘I don’t think they’d come anyway. Nigel has been decidedly cool with me for the last week or so, and Abbie has always kept her distance.’

  ‘If I might offer a little advice, dear, I believe if there is no invitation for your brother and sister, there will be no dinner party. Your father would be furious if you left them out.’

  ‘Then I’ll extend an invitation and keep my fingers crossed that they’ll refuse.’ Victoria was sure her father would agree and was already planning ahead. Charles was calling for her tonight so she could ask him to get a date off his parents when they’d be free. Once she had that she could telephone the Thompson-Brownes. ‘I want it to be a perfect night, Mother, so Charles’s parents can see I would make a suitable wife for their son. And I’ll ask Agnes to put on a feast such as they’ve never seen before. Oh, I can’t wait to see Fath
er so I can start preparing. It will be an important night for me in regards to my relationship with Charles, so everything must be carefully planned, right down to the last detail.’

  The housekeeper came in then to take away the breakfast dishes. ‘Oh Agnes, I want you to spare me an hour tomorrow to help prepare a menu for a dinner party. I’ll let you know in the morning what time will suit me.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Victoria, but it’ll have to be a time to suit me!’ Agnes stacked the dirty plates on to a tray, keeping her eyes averted so her anger wouldn’t show. Cheeky madam! She’ll tell me what time will suit her! Well, she can go and jump in a lake for all I care. ‘This is a big house to run, and I have a routine. If I didn’t stick religiously to that routine, then yer’d be getting yer meals all hours. And tomorrow is the day I give my living quarters a good clean through.’ There were two very large attic rooms at the top of the house, and Agnes used one as a bedroom-cum-sitting room. She didn’t expect the cleaner to do her room, she did it herself, and the staircase leading up to the attic. ‘The best time will probably be around two o’clock, but I’ll let you know when I serve lunch.’

  The housekeeper picked up the tray and turned towards the door. ‘Unless yer’d rather write the menu out and just hand it to me?’

  ‘No!’ Victoria was telling herself not to lose her temper. She needed the experience of this woman, and giving in was a small price to pay. ‘It’s for a special occasion, Agnes, and I couldn’t do it without you. So whatever time suits you, that’ll be fine.’

  Later, the staff were having their morning break, and Agnes told them what had been said. ‘The bleedin’ stuck-up bitch!’ Kitty was wishing she had the housekeeper’s nerve. ‘I’m glad yer told her where to get off, queen.’

  ‘That was cheeky of her,’ Jessie said. ‘Yer work hard enough as it is, Aggie.’

  Pete gave his opinion in a slow drawl. ‘Someone should have taken her across their knees when she was younger and given her a good hiding. Never does a tap all day and expects to be waited on hand and foot.’

  Agnes, her nerves calm now, said, ‘There were two women in that dining room who think of no one except themselves. They love no one, and no one loves them. Two unhappy, lonely women. I pity them.’

  Victoria’s face was stretched in a smile, but close inspection would show it didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Father, can I ask a favour of you?’

  Robert found he couldn’t warm to his eldest daughter, but he was determined not to make fish of one and flesh of the other. ‘Of course you can. What is it?’

  ‘I’d like to ask Charles’s parents to dinner one night. And perhaps the Thompson-Brownes. Just a small gathering, with Nigel and Abbie of course.’

  ‘Count me out,’ Nigel said. ‘Dinner parties bore me stiff.’

  ‘And me!’ Abbie said. ‘I’ve only ever been to one, as you well know, Victoria, and I swore I’d never go to another.’

  Robert was probably the only one who saw the gleam of satisfaction on his eldest daughter’s face. She doesn’t want them there, he thought. In fact, if they’d said yes she would have found a way, over the next few days, of putting them off. ‘What is this dinner party in aid of – something special?’

  ‘No, nothing special. It’s just that Charles and I have been seeing a lot of each other and I thought it was time for the families to become better acquainted.’

  ‘I am very well acquainted with George Chisholm, I see him several times a week at the club. But that is by-the-by. If you and Charles are serious about each other, then I agree the families should get to know each other. So go ahead and plan your party, but definitely not on a Wednesday which coincides with my visit to Chester.’

  ‘Thank you, Father, that’s very sweet and generous of you.’ Victoria stretched a leg to touch her mother’s foot under the table. It was her way of saying they’d won.

  ‘I can’t speak for my parents, Victoria, but I will certainly ask them.’ Charles had parked his car down a country lane, with not a house in sight, just fields. He was running a finger up and down Victoria’s cheek, but with each downward stroke he strayed further towards the neckline of her dress. ‘But I warn you, they have a very wide circle of friends and a full diary.’

  ‘Charles, would you say I was your girlfriend?’

  He grinned. ‘Well, we certainly see each other nearly every night, so I suppose you are a girlfriend.’

  ‘I don’t mean just a girlfriend, I mean your girlfriend.’ She could feel his finger now inside the neck of her dress and working towards her bosom. She noted too, the gleam in his eyes, the shallow breathing and his air of excitement. The time was fairly near when he would promise her anything she asked for. ‘Kiss me, Charles.’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ He put an arm around her to draw her near, while his free hand slid down into her brassière and cupped a breast. ‘Mm, that feels good, Victoria. You have a beautiful body, enough to send a bloke crazy.’

  ‘Beautiful enough for you to want me to be your girlfriend?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ In his eagerness to see what he could now only feel, Charles pulled so hard on the neck of her dress he ripped the button off the back, giving his hand the freedom to roam. His breath coming in short gasps, he caressed the full breast, watched by a pair of eyes that were cold and calculating. She had never let him go this far, and she wanted something in return.

  ‘Charles, my darling, I shouldn’t let you do this unless you truly are my boyfriend. I am not some cheap common tart.’

  ‘I really am your boyfriend.’ Charles at that particular time would have promised her the earth. He tugged again at her dress until both breasts were exposed. ‘Beautiful, my darling, beautiful.’ He tried to slip his hand under the skirt of her dress, but she pushed it away. ‘You can’t stop me now, I’ll be in agony. I want you, Victoria, please!’

  But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Victoria had a plan, and giving herself to him was not part of it. ‘I have no intention of losing my virginity to anyone unless their intentions are honourable. And certainly not in the confines of a small car.’

  ‘You’re a tease, Victoria. You flirted and led me on, and nice girls don’t do that.’

  ‘Nice boys don’t expect to make love to a woman who isn’t their wife.’ She cupped his face and kissed him. ‘Did you mean it when you said I truly was your girlfriend?’

  ‘You think I tell lies?’

  ‘No, darling, of course not. It’s just that if you are serious about me, then a car isn’t the place to try and seduce me. It would have to be a bedroom in a first-class hotel, and I’d expect a bottle of champagne at the side of the bed.’

  Charles wasn’t the soft touch he made himself out to be. He was well-experienced in the wiles of women. He could have a girl, or woman, whenever he wanted. Married women sought his attention for thrills, to pass away a dull afternoon. Or he could buy the favours of high-class prostitutes. He could afford to pay them whatever they asked to carry out his sexual fantasies. So why should he settle down when he was enjoying life so much. Perhaps in ten years’ time, when his father would be expecting an heir to carry on the family name and tradition, but not yet. He’d only paid court to Victoria for so long because she was a challenge. Never slept with a man before, a virgin. And heaven knows, she was ripe for the picking. ‘So you want to do it in style do you, my love? A top-class hotel, a bottle of champagne, and a man crying out for you. And that is what you deserve, the very best. Just say the word, my sweet, and I’ll arrange it as soon as possible.’

  ‘Not before the dinner party, Charles, I’ll be too busy up till then. But as soon as it’s over and my mind is free, you can book us into the finest hotel under the name of Smith.’ She stroked his cheek. ‘I’m sure you can persuade your parents to make an evening free the week after next. Now, that’s not too long to wait, is it, my darling?’

  The crafty minx must think I’m stupid, Charles thought. But she was still a challenge to him, and he would coax his parents into attending an even
t they wouldn’t enjoy at all. It would be worth it to brag to his friends that he was the one who deflowered Victoria Dennison.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ada was back and forth to the window like a cat on hot bricks while Joe shook his head at her impatience. ‘Bob said three o’clock, sweetheart, and it’s only half two. Sit down and relax for half an hour.’

  ‘I can’t relax, I’m all wound up. I can’t wait to see the children again.’ Ada looked at her husband with pride. He was wearing new trousers, shirt and cardigan, and the tie around his neck was neatly knotted under his Adam’s apple. None of the clothes were brand new, they’d come from Paddy’s Market, but they were of good quality and condition. ‘Yer look very handsome, Joe Brady, a proper toff.’

  ‘And you look beautiful, sweetheart, I could fall for yer all over again.’ He eyed with appreciation the pale blue jumper and navy blue skirt, and the black flat-heeled court shoes she’d spent hours polishing to try and get the scuffmarks off. ‘That five pound off Bob was a godsend. I feel good enough to go out with them now, but I wouldn’t have done in my old clothes, I’d have felt ashamed.’

  ‘Yer should never feel ashamed of what yer are, Joe. I mean, what have yer got to be ashamed of? Yer worked hard until yer were sixty-five, with never a day off, and no one could do more than that. And if Bob heard yer he’d go mad.’

  ‘Our Edie must be ashamed of us, otherwise why would she have stayed away for seventeen years?’ The old man shook his head sadly. ‘I keep asking meself why. Have we failed her in some way?’

  ‘No, we ruddy well haven’t! It’s not us, it’s her. The best we can do is forget her, she’s not worth our tears. And God knows we’ve shed enough of those over the years. But I’ll tell yer something I’ve never mentioned to yer before. Our Edie is not a good daughter, but I’ll bet a pound to a pinch of snuff she’s an even worse wife. Oh, Bob’s always cheerful and ready with a joke, but there’s times I’ve seen pain in his eyes. He strikes me as a man unfulfilled, like someone who isn’t getting the right sort of love and affection. He does from the two youngsters, yer can see they adore him. But that’s not quite the same thing. And today has proved to me that what I’ve been thinking for a long time, is true. Because if things were right between them, like they should be between man and wife, she’d be coming with them this afternoon.’