Kate steadfastly refused to allow her stepfather Gus into the house. Harriet supposed that Kate has always been hurt that her beloved brother’s widow had found someone to replace him so soon after his death.
“Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not about to get utterly corrupted in one evening.”
Kate laughed at this, but Harriet could tell it was forced.
Harriet felt deflated after the phone call, but as she set off walking through the darkened city, her earlier excitement quickly returned. Gee’s was amongst the nicest restaurants in Oxford, far outside of her student budget. Sometimes, friends’ parents had come to visit and taken them there. Her aunt and uncle, living further away than most people’s London and Home Counties based relatives hadn’t made it down yet. When they did, they’d probably just have a pub lunch. Gee’s was exactly the sort of place she’d felt her mother would like, but she’d never expected a visit from her.
It was a long walk, further than she usually travelled in Oxford, outside of the central grid of colleges, libraries and student bars. She was regretting her choice of heels by the time she arrived, but would never have dared to face her mother in flats.
Standing outside, she was impressed by the ornate glass and wrought iron fronted building. Inside she could see candle filled chandeliers hanging from the roof and beautifully decorated tables. A variety of attractive and well-off looking people of all ages were clearly enjoying themselves.
The doorman took one look at her and led her straight to the table where Adelaide and Gus were sitting. As he sat her down, he couldn’t take his eyes off her mother.
“Harriet, darling,” she called, the excitement clear in her voice.
She wore a heavy wool dress, high necked but cut above the knees. Like almost all her clothes, it was red, in this case a deep burgundy. Black open toed killer heels completed the look. Her fingernails and toes were painted to match the dress and her lipstick was a deep blood red too. Harriet knew that when she was born, her mother had been in her mid twenties, meaning she must be in her forties now, but it was impossible to believe. She looked like her slightly older sister.
The two of them embraced happily. “It’s so great to see you,” Harriet said with a smile.
“You too. I really ought to have visited you before today. Congratulations again on being accepted into Oxford. I can’t tell you how proud I am of you darling. I hope you’re enjoying it as much as I did.”
Harriet nodded enthusiastically.
Gus had been silent so far, allowing them to have their reunion in peace. After a moment though, he got up and gave her a tentative hug.
“I’m so glad you were able to meet us,” he said. “Your mother has been wanting to do this for weeks, and talking about nothing else all day. I’m excited about seeing you for more than five minutes at a time myself.”
“It’s good to see you too. Sorry about the way Kate acts, I’d always have invited you in if it had been up to me.
On the rare occasions when her mother had visited her at her aunt’s house, Gus had usually dropped her off. He’d always greeted her charmingly and sometimes given her a little present, perhaps a Hamleys bear when she’d been younger, or more recently, a book or small piece of jewellery. She’d often thought that it’s be good to get to know him better, but Aunt Kate’s attitude had made that impossible. She suspected he’d offered to help Kate and Richard out financially in the past and been firmly rebuffed. His apparent delight at seeing her today chased away the last of her doubts about whether he’d made her mother choose between them.
“Anyway, how are things at the bank?” She asked, trying to keep the conversation light.
“Oh, up and down, but I’m secure enough. I’ll have to leave early unfortunately, I’m meeting a client tonight, but I thought I’d at least say hello before leaving you and your mother to catch up.”
“I’ve ordered champagne to celebrate,” Adelaide interrupted, summoning a waiter who appeared immediately and poured out three glasses of Bollinger from a bottle sat in an elaborate ice bucket. “To my clever and beautiful daughter,” she said and they raised their glasses and drank.
When they’d finished the bottle, Gus made his excuses. He kissed Harriet on the cheek and told her he hoped to see her soon. He kissed Adelaide full on the lips. Usually, such a public display of affection from people in their forties and fifties would have mortified Harriet, but a combination of their film star looks and general aura made it seem romantic and beautiful.
After Gus had left, they made small talk whilst examining the menu. Harriet settled on scallops followed by sea bass and her mother ordered gravadlax and a rare steak.
Once the starters had arrived, her mother became more intense. “I gather that you’ve been invited to the Cavaliers’ Winter Party. That’s fantastic news. It’s such a prestigious society.”
“How on earth do you know that?” Harriet asked. “I have been invited as it happens, but I haven’t decided whether to go yet. The guy who asked me is a bit of a creep.”
“Oh don’t be silly darling. You can’t turn down something like that. It doesn’t really matter who you go with. It’s one big party with lots of people. Nothing bad could happen.”
“Where are you getting all of this information from?”
“Oh, I went a few times when I was at Oxford. Years ago of course, but I remember it well.”
Harriet studied her mother’s face, for any sign that Tom’s comments about the Cavaliers contained a grain of truth, but her expression suggested only excitement at her daughter’s social success.
“You’re going to need a really showstopping dress if you don’t want to look out of place,” her mother continued.
Worry about George and Tom had pushed that rather down Harriet’s list of concerns, but it had crossed her mind. She was sure all the female guests would have spent a fortune.
“So I bought you a few,” her mother said with a smile. “We’ll try them on later, see what works. You’re about the same size as me so it was easy to pick some out.”
They skipped puddings - “Sugar isn’t good for you darling, and you don’t want to lose your gorgeous figure,”- but drank strong black coffee and a glass of brandy each.
When her mother asked for the bill, the manager wandered over, looking entranced, and explained that it was on the house.
Harriet was astonished, but Adelaide laughed lightly. “You’d be surprised how often that happens to me.”
She left a large tip and led Harriet out to a Bentley parked by the side of the restaurant. To Harriet’s amazement, there was a driver, who was wearing a full Edwardian style chauffeur’s outfit and was startlingly handsome. She tried to hide her surprise and act as though this sort of thing happened to her every day. Relaxing into the soft leather seats, she wished that it did. The odd thing about the vehicle was that its windows were blacked out on both sides, so that they couldn’t see out anymore than other people could see in. Harriet considered asking about this, but for all she knew, it was standard for chauffeur driven cars, and she didn’t want to sound ignorant.
After a while, the car pulled smoothly to a halt. The driver opened first her door and then her mother’s, helping them each out in turn.
“Thank you James, you can take a break and collect me at midnight,” Adelaide said.
Harriet found herself just outside of the porters’ lodge. Students weren’t easily impressed, but she saw a few glancing at the car with interest, and several more staring at her mother.
“Miss French,” said the head porter. “What a surprise to see you again. It’s been years.”
“Mrs French nowadays. Or indeed Mrs Piso on occasion. Still, that’s an impressive memory for names and faces you’ve got there.”
“That’s my job Mrs French. I hope you enjoy seeing your daughter. You really should do it more often.”
It took Harriet a while to put her finger on what was odd abou
t the perfectly civilised conversation. Then she realised. The porter had been looking at her mother quite levelly and calmly, free from the look of awe that all the waiters and passing students had shown. He’d also managed to hold a normal, two sided, maybe even reprimanding conversation with her.
Adelaide looked slightly discomfited. “You are going to allow me in aren’t you?”
“Once a member of the college always a member of the college Mrs French. There’s nothing I or anyone else can do about that.” He turned to Harriet. “Have a nice evening, Miss French.”
With that, Harriet led her mother to her staircase. When they reached her landing, she was puzzled to see two long rails of clothing accompanied by an eager looking, smartly dressed woman wearing a Selfridges badge.
“What on earth?” Harriet exclaimed.
“As I said, you need a perfect dress. This is my favourite personal shopper, and here are a selection of things in your size.
“Thanks, I guess. But how did you arrange this?”
“Oh, the usual way. Money and influence,” her mother said with a light laugh.
Harriet hurriedly opened her door and let the woman wheel the clothes rails into her room, wishing she’d tidied up a bit more first.
“As I explained on the phone, we’re looking for one cocktail dress for a party, and another that would work for a formal dinner,” Adelaide said. “One should be dramatic and figure hugging. Herve Leger or something. The other should be floaty and romantic. Find some shoes to match as well. Maybe a couple of Von Furstenberg dresses and similar things too for more casual events.”
The shop assistant nodded enthusiastically. Harriet tried on outfit after outfit as her mother looked on critically.
“That’s a gorgeous dress but the wrong colour for your skin tone. That’s pretty but it doesn’t show off your tiny waist enough. That dress is just plain horrible, don’t even bother trying it on.”
Harriet began to feel exhausted. All of the dresses were lovely as far as she was concerned. In the end they settled on an emerald coloured dress with a bandage style top half and a short billowing skirt.
“The colour brings out your eyes perfectly and the cut really shows off your delicate figure without making you look like a tart,” said Adelaide, pleased. “Do you like it? I was thinking you could wear that one to the summer party, assuming they invite you back.”
Harriet nodded. As it happened she loved it, but by this stage she’d have been ready to say yes to anything.
The second dress was even better. It was almost ethereal, made of different shades of gold and bronze silk that overlaid each other. Tiny crystals subtly covered the bust area. She’d never seen a dress quite as beautiful.
“We’ll take a few of the daytime dresses and the ballet pumps as well,” Adelaide told the sales assistant. “It’s not just about a few parties; my daughter needs to start looking her best at all times.”
“Thanks mum,” Harriet said grinning.
After the remaining clothes had been taken away, they had some drinks in her room, then Adelaide glanced at her watch and announced she had to meet Gus and head back to London.
“One more thing though. You shouldn’t be dragging yourself through Oxford. You need to be wearing the right things, going to the right parties. I wish I could help you at every step, but that’s just not viable. So instead, from now on, I’m going to pay a couple of grand into your bank account each month. It’s not much in the scheme of things - I don’t want to make you too spoilt - but it should be enough to live like a Queen amongst everyone’s student budgets.”
“Mum, the clothes are fab, but you don’t need to give me that sort of money,” Harriet said hesitantly. The money could revolutionise her lifestyle, but she wasn’t sure she could accept it.
“Don’t be ridiculous darling. I’m paying it in whatever you say, and I suppose it’s up to you whether you use it or not. I’m your mother; I’m supposed to support you. It’s not the same as accepting money from some patronising do-gooder. Gus and I tried years ago to give your aunt and uncle a large income to ensure you were brought up properly, and they refused. Please don’t be as proud and stubborn as they were.”
Harriet hugged her. She’d just confirmed something she’d long suspected. She couldn’t help but wish that her aunt and uncle had taken the money offered. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake.
“I love you Mum,” she said, as she led her out to the porter’s lodge. “Thanks for a marvellous evening.”
It struck her with a flash just how much her mother loved her and how wonderful she was. If her mother thought that going to the Cavaliers’ party with George was a good idea, she would take her advice.
Chapter Seven
Harriet spent ages getting ready, though she was unsure whether she was trying to impress George, Tom, or simply the crowd of glamorous and exciting people that would inevitably be at the dinner. She hadn’t spoken to George since the night of Halloween. Too nervous to call the number he’d given she’d simply had a brief note of acceptance sent to his college pigeonhole.
She’d splashed out on having her hair professionally styled – tearing herself away from the temptation to have it completely straightened, she’d gone to the other extreme and it was now set into a pile of loose curls. She glanced in the mirror and was amazed at how different it made her look.
She’d done her make-up carefully, smudging gold liner and bronze powder over her eyelids, which made the green of her irises stand out and contrasted dramatically with her dark hair. She highlighted her cheekbones and smeared a touch of red on her lips.
The new gold dress was wonderful. Its various silken layers skimmed her body and caught the light at different angles, giving her an an almost otherworldy appearance. She slipped on delicate gloss stockings that also shone. Next, she added silvery strappy shoes, green dangling earrings and a sparkly bracelet. Last of all, she put on her necklace, telling herself she was only doing so because it accessorised perfectly with the dress and not because of Tom’s warning.
The effort of getting ready had kept her calm, but once she was dressed and sat at her computer, nerves began to overwhelm her. She was far from certain that she’d done the right thing in accepting George’s invitation
As she sat, her phone rang. Seeing it was Caroline, Harriet paused before picking it up, knowing what she was going to say.
“I know this is probably a lost cause, but please, I’m begging you one more time not to go.”
“I’ll be fine. I think there was a misunderstanding the other night. I overreacted.”
Caroline gave a harsh laugh. “Overreacted? He attacked you with a knife. I’m already uncomfortable that we didn’t go to the police. Why would you go on a date with him?”
“He won’t do anything like that again, I’m sure of it. Last time we were on a deserted path. Tonight we’ll be in a hall full of people. I promise that if anything goes wrong again, you can march me straight down to the station to report him.”
Still giving her dire warnings, Caroline finally hung up, having extracted a promise that she’d come straight over the next morning to report back.
Harriet wandered up the High Street, struggling to walk in her heels but convinced it was worth it. She felt again that sense of awe at the beauty of the town. Her amazement at this had faded a little over the course of the term but she was sure it would never be entirely destroyed.
It was a fifteen-minute walk to Christ Church. Harriet explained to the college’s notoriously strict porters where she was going. They looked at her curiously but let her in. Whenever she had visited before, she had admired the college’s imposing architecture. It wasn’t as beautiful as her own college, but was on a bigger scale that took her breath away. Tonight though, her heart was pounding too much to take anything in. She wished she had come with a friend, wondering if Caroline would ever have agreed to it. The thought of walking alone into a room full glamorous people terrified her. She couldn’t even rel
y on her date for some moral support - the cocktail of attraction and fear that George provoked in her would make things a hundred times worse.
Harriet walked though the main quad and into a smaller area at the back, unsure exactly where the pre-dinner drinks were being held. To her relief, she saw two men in white tie lounging against a wall, smoking, and realised she must have come to the right place. As she stared at their arrogant faces and pristine outfits however, her confidence began to fail her. Her underlying sense of not quite belonging, which she usually managed to suppress, rushed to the forefront, paralysing her to the extent that she was unable to approach the two apparent Cavaliers. Trying to steady her nerves, she took a walk around the college, promising herself that when she got back to the spot she’d speak to them.
In the main quad, she saw three girls in expensive looking dresses who she could only assume were also heading to the party. Their class would have been evident from their polished look, even if she hasn’t been able to hear their drawling tones. The trio appeared utterly self-assured and Harriet chided herself for her sudden and uncharacteristic lack of confidence. She caught their eye and rather than look at her in disdain, they smiled welcomingly. Harriet smiled back and decided that she had to just go for it.
The two boys were still leaning against the wall when she reached the small quad again. This time she didn’t hesitate, walking straight towards them. Both of them looked up as she approached. One was blond and muscular; the other was slim with long dark hair. Both however had that quality of unearthly good looks that Harriet was slowly beginning to identify with the members of the Cavaliers.
“Hi, where do I need to go for the Cavalier drinks?” Harriet asked, trying and failing to sound calm.
“Are you invited?” asked the blond, looking her up and down and not sounding overly friendly.
“Yes, of course. I was told to come to this part of the college, but not given proper directions,” Harriet snapped, nerves and irritation making her accent more pronounced than ever. She felt every muscle in her body begin to tense. Why had she come?
Oxford Blood Page 8
