by Caron Allan
‘These early attachments don’t always come to anything, anyway,’ Dottie said, feeling very old and wise. ‘Quite often the girl realises she’s about to make a huge mistake. It’s not always a good thing to follow one’s heart.’
‘Hmm, well I don’t know about that,’ Mike said, ‘I’m still waiting for the right woman to come along. Though if anything happened to Reggie, I’d have Deirdre back like a shot. Oh yes, she was mine, originally.’ He had the grace to look sheepish. ‘Well, I suppose originally she was going about with Algy, but that didn’t last long, then she and I were an item for some time after that,’ he added in response to Dottie’s look of surprise. ‘Reggie used to tease me about her. Dreary Deirdre, they all called her. She was just a bit shy, that’s all. Sweet girl. One that got away. I don’t have a lot of luck with the ladies. Not very good at all that flirting and joking around and paying compliments.’
Dottie murmured a kind of catch-all phrase, thinking that if Deirdre ever had cause to turn to anyone other than her husband, it was very likely to be Algy, with whom she clearly still had a strong bond. Poor Mike seemed to be completely clueless as regards the opposite sex. But she said none of this, instead giving all her attention to her salmon mousse. After a moment she said, ‘It must be rather nice to have so much history, all of you. Every chief event in your lives has been shared with all of them over the years. You’ve known each other forever, and you will always have those memories to look back on. I don’t have any friends like that, apart from my sister.’
‘Hmm. It’s not always a good thing. Too much in one another’s pockets, I sometimes think. I sometimes wonder if we oughtn’t to have gone our separate ways a bit more.’
‘Do you all still live locally, then?’
‘Oh yes, all within a mile or two of here. Reggie’s probably the one that lives the furthest away, and that’s only, what three or four miles?’
‘How did Penny’s husband die? I haven’t liked to ask.’ She didn’t mention that Margaret had already alluded to alcoholism. Mike’s response was to the point.
‘Artie? Drink.’
‘Oh!’ Dottie was scandalised by his bluntness. If two people said it, surely it was true?
And she couldn’t help glancing in Penny’s direction. Penny was staring at her sister with something like disgust. Dottie, engrossed in her conversation with Mike, had missed what had happened to cause that look. But it quickly became obvious that she was miffed over the intimacy displayed by Miranda and Gervase as they talked and laughed together. Right at that moment, Gervase was speaking softly in Miranda’s ear and she laughed heartily at his words. Dottie felt like glaring at the pair of them too.
Further down the table, Reggie was looking at Miranda with scarcely veiled hatred. It seemed he still hadn’t forgiven her for her slip the previous day. If indeed it was a slip. Dottie somehow doubted it. He was drinking steadily and eating little. Dottie fervently hoped there wouldn’t be a scene. She wondered if her own face showed her feelings too, as she saw Miranda pawing at Gervase’s arm, then her hand dipped beneath the table-top, no doubt to caress his knee. Along the table on Dottie’s side, Percy Parkes was downing his wine and signalling for another.
Beside her, Mike continued: ‘Yes, poor Artie used to drink like a fish. I mean I know we all drink a bit more than is good for us, but Artie... Poor fellow was half-cut most of the time. His liver just gave up on him.’
‘How awful for Penny,’ Dottie said. ‘She must have felt so helpless, watching him suffer like that. I expect she pleaded with him to stop? Banned drink from the house? That sort of thing?’
‘Oh er, probably. I don’t really know, to be honest. Though from what I hear, it wasn’t the happiest of marriages. Artie wasn’t really the marrying kind. Damned hard luck on Penny of course, but there you are. A word to the wise, my dear. Those Parfitts are excellent fellows in their way, and the best friends a chap could ask for, but I’m not sure they make good husband-fodder, if you see what I mean. Too inclined to go their own way and damn the rest of us.’
Dottie felt herself stiffening against his words. ‘Well I’m sure you know them better than I, but...’
‘Keep my long nose out of it? Of course. Sorry to offend, my dear.’
‘No, no, it’s all right, I’m not offended, but, well Gervase and I are just friends, that’s all, nothing more.’
Mike sat back and threw his napkin onto his plate. ‘I’m glad to hear it, my dear. That’s always the best way to keep it with old Gerry.’
A light iced dessert was brought in, and cheese and biscuits with it for those who didn’t care for the sweet dish. Dottie was grateful that Mike, unlike Reggie, didn’t go in for the sulks after she had rebuffed him, and his open friendliness was beginning to appeal to her. He wasn’t quite as boorish as she had at first thought, though he still used the worst possible language much of the time. She decided to satisfy herself about a matter that had made her curious. Leaning a little closer to him, she asked in a confidential voice, ‘I expect you knew Margaret in your younger days? She was one of your set back then, wasn’t she?’
He gave her a startled look. ‘Margaret? God yes, she was always around back then. By rights she should be here now too. She was Miranda’s best friend. They were practically inseparable. Penny used to be so jealous, following them around all the time, trying to get them to include her. But poor old Penny was just that little bit too young in those days, a good few years younger than the other girls, more than a few younger than us fellows.’
‘Age gaps make a huge difference when you’re young. Though she was Penny’s chief bridesmaid, so they obviously became closer friends at some point.’
‘Very true. Although I think that had more to do with Penny not really knowing very many girls of her own age, and of course, Miranda had gone to India by then. Margaret and Miranda were at school together, and Margaret’s parents lived locally, so it was inevitable those two would become buddies.’
‘But she never married?’ Dottie already knew that she hadn’t, but she wanted to draw more from him.
He pulled a wry face. ‘Well I imagine you’ve heard the scandal. Got herself into trouble. She refused to give it up for adoption, but then her parents threw her out, wouldn’t have anything to do with her, so she was forced to earn her living. The fellow wouldn’t stick by her, of course, said it was nothing to do with him. Not that she was the sort of girl to...’ He looked down at his empty plate. ‘At least... I mean, there was always a lot of talk, but... That is to say, I never really thought she was as bad as they said.’
This was completely different to what he’d said about her a few days ago. Dottie was in an agony of curiosity. She risked a further comment: ‘What a shame her parents couldn’t put pressure on the young man, insist upon him marrying her.’
‘Bigamy is still a crime, you know.’
‘Oh!’ Dottie couldn’t think of anything else to say. That put a different complexion on things. She had always assumed... Of course, there was nothing to suggest that the man was one of the Parfitts at all, other than all the hints everyone kept making. But it wasn’t impossible that it was all entirely false. The child’s father could have been some acquaintance from a completely different area. Yet Dottie had assumed... Even Penny had seemed to indicate... All Dottie could think of saying next was, ‘Poor Margaret, though. Women always seem to suffer for their reputation as men never do.’
‘So you and Gervase are just friends?’ Mike asked again. There was a question in his eyes.
She smiled. ‘Yes, I’m not even of age yet, so I’m too young for anything serious. And I could never marry someone my parents didn’t know and approve of.’
‘No indeed,’ he agreed. He sat back a little from her and began to look around the table. It felt like the termination of the conversation.
The Honourable Norman Maynard got rather unsteadily to his feet, tapping a spoon against his glass as he did so. How these people did drink, Dottie thought. The serva
nts ran forward to top up everyone’s glasses with champagne, nimbly stepping in and out of the diners. Dottie surmised toasts were about to take place. She glanced at Major Parkes and saw him frown at the pale liquid being poured into his glass. He seemed even more drunk, in spite of all the food, rather than less so, and she spared a moment to wonder just how much he’d had and whether it was a habit. Military men were rather known for their heavy drinking. At least, according to her mother they were.
The Honourable Norman began to ramble. His wife frowned at him once or twice, but there was little to be done other than fix a smile on one’s face and just wait it out. Eventually he came to the point, slightly slurring his words.
‘So I’d like you all to raise your glarshes to my daughter and her hush-hushband, Major and Mrs Parkes.’
There was a general murmur in response and everyone took a sip of their drink, some more than others. The Honourable Norman resumed his seat. Dottie felt everyone begin to relax again. Then Miranda Parkes got to her feet. Immediately the room felt tense and oppressive. It was clear she’d had more to drink than was good for her. She swayed. She raised her glass, holding it crookedly. Champagne slopped over the edge and ran down the front of her dress.
‘Next week,’ she began, and Dottie had a sinking feeling that she knew what Miranda was about to say. Her words were slurred. ‘Next week, marks the fif-fifteenth anniversary of a very special occasion. Very speshal. For it is the annivershary of the death of a great man, and one who deserves to be remembered. Thusly, I have deshided to celebrate the life of that great man by honouring him in a—by celebrating him in—what was I shaying?’ She swayed again, and for a moment Dottie, watching this with her heart in her mouth, thought she was going to fall. But Miranda rallied, crossly shaking off Gervase who tried to persuade her to sit down again. ‘No, Gerry, shtop it. I have shumthing to shay.’ She flapped her free hand at him in a shushing motion, slopping more champagne down herself so that her glass was almost empty. Dottie saw the maid with the champagne bottle send a questioning look in the direction of the butler who shook his head very slightly. Around the table everyone was looking embarrassed and annoyed, except for Gervase, who looked rather amused by the whole thing, and sat leaning back in his chair with his arms folded.
Miranda’s mother began to get up, saying in a twittery little voice, ‘And now perhaps it is time for the ladies to withdraw, and allow the gentlemen to enjoy their cigars.’
Dottie was the only lady who got to her feet, everyone else had their eyes fixed on Miranda. Who had found her voice again, and now said, very loudly, ‘It is time everyone acknowledged what a wonderful pershon Richard Dawlish was, and that we remember him appro—appro—right. And sho, next week there will be a shervice for him in the chapel in the village, and prayers will be said to comem—com—comememorant his...erm...’
At this point, Miranda Parkes vomited all down herself and fell into a heap on the floor.
Chapter Fourteen
PENNY AND HER MOTHER helped Miranda upstairs, followed by one of the maids. Everyone else had been more or less evacuated from the dining room: the men to the Honourable Norman’s billiard room, and the remaining three ladies to the drawing room.
No one quite knew what to say, and although the coffee had been poured out, no one seemed to feel like drinking it. Dottie, Deirdre Parfitt, and Gervase’s mother Evangeline, sat about on the sofas, smiling at each other and looking at the carpet. Dottie had not been looking forward to meeting Gervase’s mother, uncertain how she would be received, in the capacity of Gervase’s ‘friend’. And at first glance she appeared quite daunting: tall, fair and poised. She had not been overly friendly towards Dottie thus far. But even Evangeline Parfitt seemed to find this particular occasion an ordeal.
‘What lovely weather we’re having for the time of year,’ Deirdre ventured at last. The other two ladies hastened to agree with her. Dottie tried not to laugh as she thought, it’s the second week of June, early summer, and the weather has been quite summery, so in fact, it’s exactly what one would expect for the time of year. But she said none of this. At least Deirdre had made an effort. Originality counted for nothing at times like these. Suddenly inspired, Dottie felt that she might have a go.
‘Have you lived in the area all your life, Deirdre?’
Deirdre turned to Dottie with obvious relief. ‘Oh yes, since I was a little girl. Mama and Papa moved into the area when I was a baby. They had been living in London, but the city is so bad for one’s chest, don’t you find?’
Between the three of them they managed to keep the banal conversation alive until the men came back an hour later, followed shortly after by Penny and her mother. They had decided to concoct a scenario whereby Miranda had been taken ill following her long journey and had been delirious with fever. Everyone seemed only too glad to go along with this version of events. Gervase said something about the dangerous bacteria one met when travelling in hot countries, and Mrs Maynard made one or two comments about the uncertainty of the female constitution, and said that in her opinion, Miranda would doubtless be completely recovered in a day or two, once she’d had a chance to really rest properly.
Major Parkes exhibited no outward interest in his wife’s health, but continued to steadily drink his whisky, topping it up from time to time from the bottle he had brought with him from the billiard room. He ignored everyone else in the room.
Mike and Gervase kept up a conversation with Deirdre and Evangeline Parfitt. Penny sat next to Reggie and tried to engage him in conversation but for once even lupins couldn’t seem to draw him out of his preoccupied state. Reggie looked so pale and drawn, Dottie couldn’t help wondering if he was ill. Norman and Edwin conversed loudly and boringly with Algy about golf and cricket. Augustine and Dottie smiled at one another politely from time to time and commented on the weather for the time of year.
Reggie and Deirdre got up to leave and everyone seemed to take that as a cue for the party to break up. Standing in the entrance hall waiting for the various cars to be brought round to the front door, Dottie caught Reggie alone for a moment, and under the cover of the other, louder conversations all around, she put a hand on his arm and looked into his face. ‘Are you all right, Reggie? You don’t look at all well.’
Up close, she was even more shocked by his changed appearance. His face was thinner, his skin lacked its usual healthy glow, and he looked as though he had been without sleep for days, though she had only seen him a couple of days before. His black wool evening suit made him look as if in mourning, which didn’t help at all. He gave her a rueful smile and patted her hand. ‘Thank you I’m quite well. Just a few-er-business worries, nothing serious.’
Clearly he was lying, but if he didn’t want to say more, she couldn’t force a confidence. She nodded. ‘Of course, well I’m glad it’s not serious. Is it something Gervase can help you with? Or even just by listening...’
But he just smiled, and said, ‘Bless you, my dear. No, really it’s nothing.’ Then, his wife calling to him, he left.
Gervase’s car was the next to come. With relief Dottie followed Penny and Gervase down the steps. Once they were seated and under way, Dottie felt she could at last relax. The ordeal was over. Forgetting for a moment how closely connected they all were, she only just managed to refrain from saying to either of the others, ‘What an evening! And what people!’
But she thought it to herself. It had been twelve years since Dottie had been to a party where one of the guests was actually sick all down themselves right there at the table. She still couldn’t believe it. What had been behind Miranda’s attempted speech? Did she still have feelings for her dead lover? It looked as though her husband thought she did, and he wasn’t at all happy about it. And what on earth was wrong with Reggie?
Dottie wasn’t entirely surprised that Miranda visited them early the next morning. Well, perhaps she was a little surprised by how early Miranda visited. Margaret opened the door to admit her at half past eight, and
went to hang up Miranda’s wet coat, for it was raining. After all their talk of the good weather the night before, Dottie thought. Miranda came into the dining room, where Dottie was having tea and toast at the table. Penny, as usual, was still in bed.
Miranda looked around curiously. Of course, Dottie thought, this was the first time she’d been to Penny’s home. Margaret brought another cup and Dottie poured Miranda a cup of tea. Miranda didn’t even spare Margaret a glance. Dottie couldn’t help wondering if she didn’t recognise Margaret, in the same way she had ‘failed to recognise’ Reggie Parfitt, or whether like all her friends, Gervase excepted, she simply thought Margaret beneath her nowadays. Yet they had once been best friends.
Miranda drifted aimlessly about the room touching this and picking up that and generally being irritating. She so obviously wanted to talk to her sister. Why didn’t she simply go upstairs and wake Penny if it was all so very urgent? Dottie decided to finish her breakfast quickly and go to her room, leaving Miranda the privacy she needed, when—or perhaps if—her younger sister should come downstairs. But just then Miranda took a seat at the table, and said, ‘What must you think of me? I’m so sorry for the spectacle. Honestly, I never usually drink that much. I certainly never disgrace myself in that way. I’m utterly humiliated.’
‘Oh don’t worry about it,’ Dottie said, ‘I’m sure everyone will have already forgotten all about it by now.’ As soon as she’d said that she realised no one would ever forget the time when Miranda Parkes nee Maynard was sick all down herself and spouted on about her dead boyfriend in front of her husband. With a rueful smile, Dottie added, ‘Well, at least it was among friends. Everyone will be very forgiving, and keen to overlook what happened.’
‘Perhaps. Though I’ve had an almighty row with Daddy this morning. And with Percy. He’s furious. Says I’ve made myself a laughing stock, and humiliated him in front of virtual strangers, and...’
