The Last Perfect Summer of Richard Dawlish

by Caron Allan

  She smiled again, and glancing across the table, noticed Penny exchange a knowing look over her wine glass with Reggie’s wife Deirdre.

  At last the meal was over and they all went out into the garden to sit in the shade and let their food—and drink—go down. There was some suggestion of setting up a net for tennis later. But no one actually got up. The lawn chairs were comfortable. Dottie felt pleasantly full. Bees droned amongst the nearby flowers, and soon she was finding it hard to keep her eyes open.

  She came broad awake at Mike’s loud comment, ‘...I don’t see why, he was just a bloody Darkie. All this fuss! It’s too much, if you ask me.’

  Penny responded with a distressed-sounding, ‘But Mike dear, she was engaged to him. Of course she wants to remember him.’

  ‘She’s married to someone else now. I wonder how he would feel, knowing she’d been planning to marry someone like that. I shouldn’t care for it myself.’ That was Reggie. His words were greeted with vague assents and murmurs of ‘No indeed’ from some of the others.

  Dottie pricked up her ears, and saying nothing, managed to look politely interested. And she was interested. Immediately she’d realised they were talking about the poor man who’d killed himself fifteen years ago. Considering no one seemed to like the man very much, her impression was that they talked about him a good deal.

  Gervase said, ‘Dottie, we’re talking about Mike’s sister Miranda. She’s coming home tomorrow after fifteen years abroad. She wants to have a little memorial service in the village church. Chap she was engaged to did himself in a few years ago, and she wants to mark the occasion. All us fellows knew him slightly. Sad case. I suspect it was due to the war. You know, some of the chaps weren’t quite right in the head after what they’d been through.’

  Dottie nodded. ‘Margaret mentioned it...’

  Penny gave her quite a sharp look, which Dottie couldn’t account for. In fact, looking around, Dottie noticed they all seemed a little uncomfortable. But of course, she remembered belatedly, Margaret had been one of their set until she’d got ‘into trouble’—and now she worked as a servant, and was very much treated as such. Except by Gervase, a little voice in her head commented. She ignored the little voice. No doubt it was hard for all of them to know how to treat her. She felt instinctively that they would find it difficult to remain friends with a servant. She said nothing, however, and waited to see if anyone would say anything further.

  It was Mike yet again. Dottie thought he was one who could always be relied upon to say what no one else dared, or thought appropriate, usually in the most offensive way possible. ‘Ah yes, the lovely Margaret. Always rather too free with her favours, as I recall. T.W.K. Rather Too Well Known, as we used to say back in the day. Damn shame, pretty girl, but there it is. Brought it on herself.’

  Dottie hoped he wouldn’t read the loathing in her face. But he hadn’t finished.

  ‘Yes, Miss Manderson, I’m sure she would take great delight in telling you, as an outsider, all our nasty little secrets. My sister was engaged to be married to a Darkie. A cowardly one at that, too. Hung himself from a tree in the grounds of our childhood home after a party one night. Disgusting business, if you ask me, and damned ungrateful after the way my father tried to include him in the welcome home honours. A good thing my sister did go away, she came to her senses in the end, didn’t she? Married a decent white chap. Just as well. Damned difficult for our family to cut her out of our lives if she’d gone ahead with it. We’d have had no choice, obviously.’

  ‘I see,’ Dottie murmured, necessarily noncommittal. At last the conversation turned to pleasanter things.

  By the time Gervase drove them back to Penny’s house to get changed, Dottie was rather sick of Michael Maynard, Reggie Parfitt and his simpering wife. The only saving grace for the coming evening was the chance of dancing with Gervase again.

  Chapter Eight

  DOTTIE WAS RELIEVED that she’d brought a nice dancing frock with her and her good wrap. As a Londoner, a single woman and the new proprietor of a fashion warehouse, she felt she owed it to herself to be perfectly turned out for any evening entertainment. As she surveyed herself in the mirror, turning this way and that, regarding the dress critically, she began to feel proud. And more confident. Because this was the first dress that Mrs Carmichael had sought Dottie’s opinion over. Dottie had been the one to have the final choice of fabric—a deep emerald satin with a slight suggestion of gold in the weave as the wearer turned and the dress caught the light. Although she had liked the dark red also on offer, she had felt the green was so much more elegant.

  It was also Dottie who had suggested the close-fitting skirt that skimmed the hips and flared from the knee to the ankle-length hem. She remembered so clearly their conversation, remembered saying to Mrs Carmichael with such passion and excitement, ‘Oh it will flow out as you dance, and will be so much fun to wear, almost as if it were alive!’ She practised a couple of quick turns now in front of the mirror and felt her spirits lift as the dress swirled about her legs.

  When Gervase arrived to take them out, she knew she’d succeeded in her aim of looking her best. She was waiting in the drawing room, Penny was again halfway down the stairs, when Margaret let Gervase in at the front door. Dottie felt he was well-known enough in the house to let himself in, but she supposed Penny didn’t see it that way. Dottie heard him greet is sister-in-law, then they came into the drawing room together.

  Gervase’s eyes touched on Dottie, he turned to make a remark to Penny, complimenting her on her outfit which Dottie privately thought uninteresting, then, his eyes wide and startled, he turned to look back at Dottie as if drawn by a magnet. He made a show of greeting her too, kissing her cheek in a friendly, brotherly way, though his expression, hidden from Penny, was one of passion. But he behaved impeccably, saying with a laugh, ‘I pay homage to your elegance, I fear I wasn’t expecting such—er—glamour. I’m not sure Nottinghamshire can compete with London.’

  A sideways glance at Penny had made him hesitate mid-sentence. Dottie was sure he was about to say ‘beauty’ but he changed it to ‘glamour’ to avoid slighting Penny. Not that I am beautiful, Dottie thought, but I can give the effect of it with a bit of make-up and a nice dress.

  Always over-sensitive, Penny did feel slighted, however, and stepping past Gervase to head out of the door, she said, ‘I’m sure we could all look glamorous were we not in mourning.’

  ‘Oh of course, Penny dear,’ he agreed heartily and rolling his eyes at Dottie, ran to open the door and attend Penny into the car. Once Penny was established in the middle of the front seat, pulling together her many-layered black chiffon frock that to Dottie’s knowing eye definitely pre-dated her bereavement by several years, and Gervase had adequately paid court to her mood, her manner seemed to soften, and she began to chat, her pouting look gone again.

  They were to meet the others in the vestibule of the hotel in the centre of Nottingham. Gervase was saying, ‘I told Reggie to go in and grab a couple of good tables about halfway back. We don’t want to be right by the band, or we won’t be able to hear ourselves think, but equally, we don’t want to be out in the street either. Still, we’ll see what he has got us. I’m sure it’ll be wrong.’

  ‘It’s always up to him and he’s terrible at making decisions. I can’t think how your brother gained such a good reputation during the war, or his seat on the board of your father’s company, He’s never asserted himself once that I can recall, and he’s such a ditherer.’

  ‘Penny, you know that with Mike around, he hardly needs to assert himself. All he needs to do is just follow on behind—and that’s exactly what he prefers to do. If you ask me, it’s your brother who is too assertive, rather than mine not being assertive enough.’

  They continued in this way until they reached the hotel. Gervase halted the car to allow the ladies to get out, then drove off to find somewhere to park. As it was a fine warm evening, Dottie and Penny waited outside for him. There were quite
a few couples and groups going up the steps to the hotel, and Dottie was gratified to see a number of the ladies turned to cast lascivious looks at her dress. As did some of the men, though not for the same reason. The hotel itself was large, and modern-looking. Dottie hoped that meant pleasant ladies’ rooms and an excellent dancefloor.

  Gervase hurried towards them, running up the first few steps. They went in together, the ladies lifting the skirts of their gowns a little to negotiate the curving steps by the door. Bending close to Dottie’s ear, Gervase murmured, ‘Don’t forget, I want all your dances!’

  She only had time to say softly, ‘Don’t be silly...’ but got no further as Penny, clutching her arm, called out:

  ‘Oh Mike, we’re here! Sorry we’re a wee bit late. These youngsters aren’t quite so good at being punctual, you know!’ This was imbued with a slightly sarcastic edge as Penny made a point of glancing at Dottie.

  Mike stepped forward to take Dottie’s hand and pull it through his arm. ‘All your fault, eh? You young girls, keeping all us chaps waiting. Good thing you’re worth the wait.’ And he bore her off into the ballroom, leading her through the gathering until they reached two tables right at the front by the band. Reggie was hovering, as if to ensure no one else tried to claim the tables.

  The others were there, turned out in all their finery. They greeted Dottie warmly. Mike said, ‘Dottie kept us waiting, what? Never mind, here now...’

  Dottie was annoyed, as she suspected Penny had intended her to be, but she said nothing, and smiled good-naturedly. Algy leapt up to graze her cheek with his mouth, and she felt the sharp scrape of a stubbly chin and cheek as he did so. ‘Definitely worth waiting for though, eh, chaps?’ His eyes took a quick tour of her figure, and she stepped back from him feeling prickly and uncomfortable, her smile faltering on her lips.

  ‘That’s what I said,’ Mike crowed.

  She would have liked to explain that she had, in fact, been ready a good twenty minutes before Penny, mainly because she was so eager to see Gervase. But it would be petty and pointless to contradict Penny in front of everyone. However as she took a seat, she couldn’t help smarting just a little from the injustice of it, especially as Deirdre Parfitt frowned at her.

  No sooner had Dottie taken her seat than Penny complained about the position of their tables. Dottie had to admit Penny was right: they were much too close to the band, who were just warming up, but even so it added to her irritation. Penny called on Deirdre and Mike’s unnamed lady-friend to back her up, and Mike and Gervase were dispatched to find a more suitable position. Within minutes Mike returned to say they’d found some better tables which Gervase was ‘guarding’, and the party moved.

  By the time they were all settled in their seats and they’d gone through the difficulties of ordering drinks, the orchestra were striking up the first dance, to great applause. Gervase immediately turned to Dottie, but Mike’s hand was on her arm, practically pulling her out of her seat. She accepted his ‘offer’ to avoid making a fuss, and allowed him to lead her onto the floor, her earlier opinion of him confirmed as ungentlemanly and coarse. Behind them, Mike’s girlfriend—whose name Dottie still didn’t know—took to the floor with Reggie, and Gervase took up a position nearby with Penny, who looked like the cat who got the cream.

  Mike held Dottie rather too close for comfort, and she made a point of taking half a step back. She certainly hadn’t wanted to be quite this close to him, and after all, they were in public, and his girlfriend—what was the woman’s name?—was watching. She definitely looked out of temper. But if he was disappointed at Dottie distancing herself, he didn’t show it. As they moved around the floor with the other dancers, he bombarded her with questions about how well she knew Gervase, how they’d met, what her father did, and whether she and Gervase had ‘an understanding’, or whether she was courting anyone else.

  By the end of the first dance Dottie felt exhausted from the interrogation. He led her back to the table commenting, ‘I had rather hoped that, given time, Penny might be ready to make a match with Gerry. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a pleasant enough sort, and definitely easy on the eye. I don’t blame him for fancying a bit of a fling with you, but it is hard to see one’s little sister’s hopes dashed, what?’

  There was no time to reply to this. Which was probably a good thing, given how angry his words made her. Reggie Parfitt took her hand and again practically dragged her back out onto the floor for the next dance, much to her surprise, but she gave him a smile as she turned to face him, placing her hand on his thin shoulder. Did no gentleman ask a lady to dance these days? Irritated by the way she was treated like a doll, she paid him little attention, and they were halfway round the floor before she realised he’d spoken. Reggie was nearly as good-looking as his brother, but he was so thin and somehow, simply, less. He danced neatly and carefully, but without an ounce of passion or flair, as if he had learned to dance but never moved on from his lessons, never felt at ease. Under his breath she knew he would be counting the steps. She thought it was a shame he seemed content to let his brother—and all the other men—overshadow him. Confidence always gave a man an air that outweighed mere good looks.

  ‘Mr Parfitt,’ Dottie began, ‘I wonder if I might ask you something?’

  ‘Reggie, please. Ask away, dear lady,’ he said solemnly, little knowing how that term irked her. But she’d counted on him being amenable, he was that sort.

  ‘Would you say Gervase and Penny—Mrs Parfitt—are, um, fond of each other?’ She hoped he’d understand what she meant. She caught sight of Penny and Gervase through the gaps between the other couples, circling the dancefloor for their second dance, smiling and talking.

  Reggie looked a little shocked. ‘My God! The poor woman only lost my brother a few weeks ago. It’s rather soon for anything of that sort.’

  ‘Yes, I realise that,’ Dottie said, soothingly. ‘I didn’t mean any disrespect. Naturally I meant, after a suitable period of mourning. You know, old friends, constant companions. He helps her and looks after her. She relies on his judgement and advice. It wouldn’t be unexpected if she one day saw him in a new light. In the fullness of time...’

  Reggie executed a dainty turn, glanced briefly towards his brother then back at Dottie. ‘I really—I really don’t think so. I mean, yes, you’re right, they’ve known each other a long time, we all have. But they’ve always just been pals. I really don’t think it would ever come to more than that.’

  Dottie nodded. He sounded sure, though she was less certain. But so often friendship did develop into something more romantic. And after all, Reggie didn’t strike her as a particularly insightful chap.

  She realised he was talking about lupins. It appeared he had a great fancy for them and was attempting to breed some new variety. He talked about it until the end of the dance. What with the late Artie and his roses and his rather dull daisy, and now Reggie going on about lupins... She wondered if Gervase had a secret passion for gardening too. Hopefully not. Dottie smothered a yawn.

  Finally, she had her dance with Gervase, followed by another. Dancing with him was heavenly, and she was able to really relax and enjoy herself.

  The evening wore on. She sat out a couple of times, but otherwise danced every dance. Algy Compton proved to be Gervase’s equal in terms of his dancing ability, but there was something about him that made him unappealing. As well as his damp sticky fingers and his damp sticky face, always bathed in a light sheen of sweat, his manners were not particularly polished, and he had a salacious look in his eye she didn’t like.

  She managed to escape with only one more dance with Mike Maynard. He seemed to have abandoned his girlfriend for someone he had just met at the bar, dancing with her to the exclusion of all other partners. This new woman had long red hair and wore a low-cut black dress, which might explain his interest in her.

  It was Dottie’s third dance with Reggie, and she was determined they should have no more talk about lupins. It was for this reason th
at, as soon as the music had begun and he’d taken his first cautious leading step, Dottie said, ‘Are you looking forward to seeing Penny’s sister Miranda again?’

  He stood stock still. Mike Maynard and the pretty redhead cannoned into them. Reggie didn’t notice, however. But he frowned at Dottie and said, ‘Surely you realise I’m a married man? Whatever you may have heard, I can assure you there’s nothing improper in our relations now, nothing!’

  With that he strode off, leaving Dottie standing in the middle of the dancefloor on her own, the other dancers awkwardly stepping round her. Gervase halted beside her, Penny in his arms. He looked amused, whilst Penny looked rather annoyed.

  ‘What have you done to upset my poor brother?’ Gervase asked. He gave her a broad smile.

  ‘Well, I...’ Dottie began, but that was as far as she got.

  Penny impatiently threw herself back into Gervase’s arms with a petulant look and a hurried, ‘Oh, never mind all that now, she can tell you later. You said you’d dance with me!’

  He shot her a rueful grin by way of an apology, and they swept on. With a heavy sigh, Dottie returned to their tables, edging round the outside of the dancefloor, stepping out of the way of the dancers and the occasional waiter, to flomp down into her seat, feeling ridiculous. She was the only one of their party sitting out at that moment. She sipped her drink, thinking how hot the room was, and watched the couples dancing: Mike being a little too friendly with the redhead, who was stiffening and leaning away from him slightly, her smile fixed and cooling quickly. Reggie’s wife Deirdre was dancing with Algy, their steps in perfect unison, so well-matched, that a stranger might think he, not Reggie was her husband. Clearly she was getting a few things off her chest and Algy was saying nothing, just listening and nodding and casting thunderous looks at Reggie whenever he came in view, Dottie noticed with interest.