Wild Lily

by K. M. Peyton

  ‘It’s only a party, nothing out of the way.’

  ‘Those public school boys – a bit of drink and it will get out of hand, you mark my words. You just keep clear of trouble. And Squashy – I won’t forbid you to go, God knows you don’t get much fun in your life – but those sort, make sure you keep them from Squashy. He’s a prime target for those sort of arrogant bastards. I can’t stop him going, he’s full of it already, but I’m relying on you to keep him away from trouble.’

  It was lucky her father didn’t know that Helena was destined to be the star of the party. Lily knew that he would be appalled at the idea. He mustn’t find out. Luckily Squashy didn’t know about Helena, so would not give the game away. But as the days went past Lily felt her father’s forebodings begin to weigh. Antony’s plans were getting wilder and Simon and John and Tom the chauffeur, and Cedric when he could get away, did little to calm him down. The absence of Mr Sylvester’s heavy hand on the estate seemed to have released a common geniality into the atmosphere and even Gabriel himself seemed to have taken to whistling and even laughing with the under-gardeners amongst the vegetables. The house staff, looking forward to their weekend holiday as the date of the party approached, were mostly partying themselves in the kitchen and could be heard shrieking and giggling at all hours in a most unseemly manner.

  Antony had made a plan to get Helena released from her carers. He told Rose and Violet that she was to appear at his party and they must dress her and set off her beauty as well as only they knew how, and that they were to bring her down to the garden when dusk set in. They did not know that the party was being held in the grotto; they knew nothing about the punt that was being painted up and dressed with silken cushions and cloth of gold (out of an old trunk of Antony’s dead mother’s), nor of the journey she would make across the lake to the grotto to the accompaniment of beautiful music that Simon was having great difficulty in trying to pipe amongst the willow trees from the old gramophone in Mr Sylvester’s study: they would not see her board her vessel, because as soon as they had brought her onto the floodlit lawn they would be hijacked by Eton’s rugger team and manhandled back to their quarters and securely locked in.

  ‘It’s in the bag,’ Antony breathed. ‘Just let the moon shine down upon her! What a party it will be!’

  ‘Dear God, I wish!’ prayed Lily.

  JULY, 1922

  FULL MOON

  11

  In league with Antony’s desires, the days and nights were hot and still and the moon grew towards its zenith on the night of the party. The air was filled with the scents of the flower gardens and the smell of mown grass from the hay meadows. The hay-making had proceeded at a record pace and Cedric was in the clear for the party, the last load stacked three days before the eventful night. The horses were turned out for a short rest and grazed under the stars, and in the bright light of the full moon Lily, unable to sleep, slipped out of bed and crept outside and walked down beside the lake to calm her nerves, absorbing the silence and the radiance of the park under the moon and thinking how amazing it would be the following night, impossible to imagine.

  She felt burdened with responsibilities, knowing how Antony depended on her, for she had taken on nearly all the difficulties of organizing the food, how to keep it fresh and get it to the grotto safely, how to arrange it in the candlelight, how to serve it without the boys turning it into a scrum; and to keep Squashy safe, and see that Helena was treated with the care she demanded, that was her duty too. She was exhausted before it started.

  How beautiful the night was! How strange that she lived in this heavenly place and rarely stopped to appreciate it. A pair of swans drifted on the water down the path of the moonlight, silent, scarcely moving, unaware, serene.

  Tomorrow night they would fly away.

  She went down the length of Antony’s airstrip and came to the fence that marked the boundary between the park and the farm. The horses grazed with long shadows from the moon following them across the sweet-smelling grass. She leaned over the gate, and two of them came to her, to lip at her fingers, so gentle for such great strong creatures: she was filled with love for them, that they worked so hard and never gave up, however tired and belaboured they were. She put her cheek against the hard muscle of the neck, loving the smell of them, the feel. I am going batty, she thought. Antony’s demands are turning me mad. She wanted to be at peace, for tomorrow to be over, yet she wanted tomorrow with longing: the glamour, the high spirits, the excitement.

  How strange and utterly empty life would be without Antony in it, and yet he was hopeless: she saw now as she grew older how competent she was compared with Antony, what a load of hopeless dreams he was, with no stuffing, no ambition, someone only to be loved without return. It was Simon and John and Tom the chauffeur who had done the hard work, besides herself: the mending and painting and preparing of the boats, the complications of wiring the grotto, the repair of the machinery that turned on the cascades, of clearing the overgrowth so that there would be safe landing, and cleaning the grotto walls with a magic potion ordered from London.

  ‘But it was my idea,’ Antony said truly.

  They all worked willingly for the consummation of the terrific idea: the party to outdo all parties. When it was over the magic would die: Claude Sylvester would return and the staff would all come back to toe the line. They would go back to work; her father would clamp down again, Simon and John would go away, and Antony … who knew? Not even Antony.

  She walked slowly back along the lakeside, absorbing the peace and the beauty. It will never be like this again, she thought, not like this moment, on the brink, her heart so filled with hopeless desires, trembling with premonitions. Stop my brain, close down … I will never sleep.

  Surprisingly Lily slept, overslept, and awoke with a jolt when her father shouted for her. Her head was perfectly clear, not a shred of the sentimental rubbish she recalled from only a few hours previously cluttering its clear conception of the tasks that lay before her.

  ‘So this is the great day, eh? You’re worn out before you’re started,’ her father commented, not entirely without sympathy. ‘Perhaps we’ll get some sense out of you all when it’s over. Just remember what I said, that’s all—’

  He nodded his head towards Squashy who was getting Barky onto his hind legs and shouting at him, ‘We’re going to a party! We’re going to a party!’

  ‘Barky might be better left here with me,’ Gabriel added.

  ‘No! No! No!’ screamed Squashy. ‘Barky loves parties. Barky must come!’ He burst into tears and lay on the floor hugging poor Barky tightly to his chest. The popping eyes of the little dog pleaded deliverance.

  ‘Of course he’ll come,’ Lily said, prising him free. ‘You can make him a party collar with that bit of red stuff in my bedroom, like a little scarf.’

  She had been trying to work out something pretty to wear from the minimal contents of her cupboard. Modern dresses just seemed to hang down straight from what she had seen of them, not very complicated, but most smart girls now had short hair and there was no chance of her getting hers cut, not without incurring her father’s wrath. She had been practising tying it up in some way, but it slithered all over the place; she was not a natural lady’s maid. Anyway, she reminded herself, she was only a servant. Her hair was clean and shining and would hang free as it always did. The worst thing was that she had no shoes, only work boots, and broken slippers for the house. She should have asked Cedric to borrow a pair for her from his sisters: he had two sisters, as well as several younger brothers. It wasn’t too late; she must ask him this morning. The rest she could manage. There were so many things to do!

  The weather was perfect, as Antony had commanded. Some of his friends had arrived the night before and were making breakfast in the kitchen. Lily went there to start seeing to the food, but stopped in the doorway as she saw the strangers who had taken over, some six or seven lanky youths pinging bread pellets at each other. The table was strewn with
dirty plates and cups and saucers and the boys sprawled in their chairs, two with their feet on the table. Antony wasn’t there.

  Lily froze with embarrassment. Squashy was right behind her with Barky, who lived up to his name, taking immediate exception to the strangers. Lily felt the same. She obviously did not impress them for none of them got to their feet as she knew gentlemen should when a lady entered the room.

  ‘Sorry, I’ll come back later.’

  ‘No, stay, sweetheart. Have a cup of tea.’

  ‘I’m here to work, but obviously the kitchen is still in use. I’ll come back later.’

  She turned abruptly and swept Squashy before her. Barky stayed behind yapping, and one of the boys threw an egg at him. Barky fled. Squashy tried to turn back to punch the aggressor but Lily marched him firmly out, down the corridor and out into the yard.

  ‘Pigs!’

  Surely not all Antony’s friends were like this? Of course, having the run of a stately home with no adults on hand was going to prove very attractive: she feared the worst. But that was not her department. Thank goodness Simon and Cedric were down by the lake, testing the electrics in the trees, and she went to them with relief.

  ‘There’s some beastly boys in the kitchen. I came away.’

  Simon said, ‘Those beastly boys are going to get jobs to do, don’t worry. You’ve done your bit, Lily. All the food will get carried out to the grotto – not your responsibility any more. There’ll be plenty of manpower around today. You enjoy it all now, and stop worrying.’

  ‘I can’t help it. It’s been—’ Everything had led up to this, for so long; when it was over, how strange … ‘I’ve got no shoes to wear. I wondered if one of your sisters could lend me a pair, Cedric?’

  ‘Yeah, why not? Go and ask. Did you see Ant in the house?’

  ‘No.’

  Simon said, ‘You know he’s promised to take his pals up for joyrides today if they want it? So we’re not going to get much sense out of him. If you see him, tell he’s got to organize getting everything down to the grotto for tonight. That’s not our job. We’re boats and lights and things electric.’

  ‘And Helena?’

  ‘He’s doing Helena. He’s the boss there. We just wish that wasn’t happening.’

  ‘What? Helena coming?’

  ‘Yes. Anything could happen. She won’t know what on earth is going on.’

  ‘She’ll have lots of people to look after her.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Simon obviously wasn’t convinced.

  Having seen the crowd in the kitchen, Lily understood his doubts. ‘We can always bring her back if she’s frightened.’

  ‘Some of us will stay sober, don’t worry,’ Cedric said.

  Lily realized how totally ignorant she was of party behaviour. The nearest she had ever come to a party before was the annual harvest gathering up at the farm, which was a jolly and simple affair where she fitted in. Certainly there was a lot of drinking, and even her father fell over on the way home but that was only funny. It didn’t compare with the lavish expectations that she felt were overcoming her now.

  She went up to the farm to see about the shoes. She didn’t know Cedric’s sisters very well, but his mother was a homely old thing and always friendly and happy to help.

  ‘Just an old pair of sandals, nothing special. I’m not really a guest, just helping out.’

  ‘Make the most of it, my dear. Don’t let that boy put on you, you’re not his servant.’ Mrs Butterworth brought her a selection, mostly quite plain. She tried to make her take the smartest, but Lily chose the oldest and most comfortable.

  ‘I’ll bring them back tomorrow. It’s very kind of you.’

  ‘You can keep that pair. Amelia never wears them now.’

  ‘No. I’ll bring them back.’

  ‘Well, enjoy yourself, and be careful.’

  What did that mean? Lily wondered as she made her way back. The shoes were gloriously light and comfortable. She often went barefoot in the summer, depending where she was working, but these were so lovely that by the time she got back to the grotto she had decided that no, she wouldn’t take them back, not after she had been invited to keep them.

  It was getting hot, not a cloud in the sky. Up at the house, across the lake, she could see that more cars were arriving and figures were idling on the terrace, some putting up tents in the gardens. Squashy was still over by the boats with Simon and John, whom she knew would take care of him, so she decided to have a last look at the grotto while it was still empty. Tonight it would be very different.

  They had spent so much time bringing it back to its former glory and this was the first time she had stepped into it alone without a bucket and scrubbing brush in her hand. The usual cold hand reached out as she walked along the narrow entrance towards the inner sanctum, but the walls even in the darkness seemed to sparkle as they never had before, and as the great inner cave opened up over her head she gasped at the sight: thousands of little coloured lights had been threaded through the stalactites and were shining now as if they were the stars themselves in the night sky. And the reflections of the lights doubled and trebled through all the convoluted surfaces of the grotto and in the spray of the cascades that tumbled down into great troughs where the stone mermaids and fabled monsters and fishes gambolled, scrubbed clean of green mould by her own hands over several weeks. She had never seen it with the lights turned on, although she had spent many hours there watching Simon and John at work on high ladders borrowed from the farm. A certain amount of daylight came in through cleverly concealed orifices amongst the leaves and verdancy that grew over the roof, but it had only served to fill the haunting space with a grey twilight. Lily had always found the place austere; she could never have imagined how glorious it might be now the lights seemed to laugh and twinkle like a million friendly eyes: the place was quite transformed. She knew too that later there would be masses of candles, high up on the walls where the boys had made special sconces; they were in place, ready to be lit. Antony said they would warm the place as well as add scent and more light. The long tables were in place, covered in gold cloths, empty as yet, but soon to be filled with all the delights from Fortnum and Mason and with the ranks of champagne bottles: all the food that they had dreamed up between them, even including Squashy’s favourite lemonade and a bone for Barky.

  Simon was obviously testing the electrics, for even as she stood there the lights went out and the cascades fell quiet and the eerie silence of the grotto’s normal demeanour took over, broken only by distant birdsong from outside. Lily stood absorbing the space and the astonishing sight that had quite overwhelmed her. For several moments she felt she was not in the real world at all, and then the usual echoes of cheerful birdsong filtered in along the corridor and she followed the familiar sound until it led her to the bright landing where the water lapped softly against the stones: out in the everyday again.

  Then she laughed, enchanted by her visit, amazed by her own surprise, that she had never envisaged the finished product all the while she had worked there with the boys. She sat then on the stones, kicking off her lovely sandals as her feet dipped into the water, and let herself enjoy the moment. Never in her life had something so sweet and lovely appeared to her. In quite a different department from the parachute jump, it was just as valuable: a memory to be stored for the future, to recall when things got bleak. For her future was not bright, she knew. Like Antony she put off thinking about it.

  It was so quiet here now, on the familiar spot where they so often played. Tonight the boats would land here, one by one, bringing the guests from the far shore, and Squashy was going to help Cedric take the empty boats away and park them. He was very at home on the water and with the boats and it would keep him nicely occupied. Helena was going to arrive with an escort, in the best punt, which Lily had seen cushioned and padded and made to look like a royal barge. Antony and Simon were going to punt her, and then change to rowing nearer the grotto where the water became deep. Lily had
been told to be ready to receive her and help her disembark. ‘Nothing must go wrong,’ Antony had said several times. ‘It must all be perfect for her.’

  While Lily sat there, she saw Antony come roaring down the airfield in his father’s Rolls-Royce with a full complement of friends arranged over the seats and the bonnet. He was going to take them up one by one for what he called a spin, and Lily decided to disappear, to nurse her happy thoughts back home where she needed to spend time working out what she was going to wear. Her wardrobe was so hopeless it wouldn’t take long. If only she had thought ahead and arranged something with the few girls in the village she still called her friends! But too late now, even if she could be bothered. Thank goodness it was going to be very hot, so her mother’s nicest summer dress would do. And Squashy must have a clean shirt if she could find one.

  Her father was working on their own vegetable patch behind the cottage, complaining that there was no getting to work at the big house for all the idiots roaming over the place. Honest as he was, Lily had noticed that he had not worked quite so hard since Mr Sylvester had departed. Antony was taxiing out with his first volunteer and shouting and laughing echoed across the lake from the gathering guests outside the house. Lily lay on the bed to think about things, and fell fast asleep.

  The party was not to start until dusk.

  12

  Rose and Violet were thrilled at Antony’s request to bring Helena out, looking her most beautiful, for the admiration of all his friends.

  ‘Our little duck, she will love this! She knows, doesn’t she, that something is going on? She senses it. See her face, all alight – oh, what a beautiful evening for her, and those beautiful lights across the lawn! She will feel it even if she cannot see it, how she will love it!’

  Helena did not lack for gorgeous clothes and brilliant jewellery, once her mother’s, and the two women knew how to make the most of her golden colouring, bringing out her best long dress of turquoise silk and a shawl of white silk shot with gold and silver threads. Her hair was loose and fell in shining curls over her shoulders and a diamond necklace glittered at her throat. At the age of twenty-two, she had a sweet childish face untouched by sadness or worry, which gave her natural beauty an extra dimension, a purity that seemed to shine from her strange, sightless blue eyes. Lily, used to her, was stunned when she saw her emerge from the house.