Fragile Wings

by Rebecca S. Buck

  “And you’re not sure you understand that, I assume,” Vernon replied, with startling accuracy.

  “Something like that,” Evelyn said, curious what he would say.

  Vernon took her arm and pulled her a few steps further toward the back of the room, where there was no way they would be overheard. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Evie. But Jos is mostly protecting you. You see, people don’t approve. Even in terribly modern establishments like this, people still stare at Jos and her friends from time to time. In the wicked world outside, you should hear what people say. I imagine Jos would hate for you to hear such things about yourself. Additionally, of course, Jos is always scared of what is waiting around the corner for her. She’s been that way since our parents died. Never wants to commit to anything in case she loses it, in the way she lost our parents. Did she tell you about them—how it was a Zeppelin raid that took them?”

  Evelyn nodded. Jos had told her, in the briefest of terms. Evelyn had not liked to press the matter further.

  “Yes, she’ll tell people that we lost them but not that she was at home at the time, that she’s blamed herself ever since. That she’s terrified she’ll lose everything good that comes her way.”

  “But she won’t lose me,” Evelyn protested, moved by Vernon’s words and wishing Jos was here herself, so she could reassure her.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Vernon said. “But it’s not really about what she thinks you will or won’t do. It’s that she thinks, if she commits to something—like telling people that you and she are a couple—she puts herself in danger of losing it.”

  “That’s no way to live your life,” Evelyn said, feeling sadness on Jos’s behalf.

  “No. But then which of us really can say we live an exemplary life?” Vernon returned with a shrug. “I certainly can’t, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

  Evelyn remembered his casual relationship with Lilian and who knew how many other women. She remembered Dorothy’s warnings about Vernon. Perhaps he was affected by the same feelings as Jos; perhaps that was why he could articulate them so clearly.

  “I suppose so,” Evelyn replied. “I didn’t mean to sound judgemental. I just meant that it must be very hard for Jos to be happy.”

  “We all find our ways, Evie. She’s been particularly cheerful these last few days. I even caught her whistling a tune to herself.”

  “She has?” Evelyn felt a surge of optimism. If Vernon had noticed Jos seeming happy, then that was a good sign.

  “Oh, most definitely. I can’t think what’s brought it on.” Vernon’s implication was very clearly that Evelyn was the cause of Jos’s good cheer. “She’s so happy it’s almost sickening to her cynical reprobate brother.”

  “Well, I’m sorry about that,” Evelyn said with a smile.

  “I can cope. Anyway, we could make conversation all day but I understand we’ll meet again at Christmas. How can I help you today? Not drinking on your own?”

  “No,” Evelyn replied. “I was actually looking for Jos. I just wanted to talk to her.”

  “She’s at work until this evening. She did say she might pop by before she goes home. Would you like me to pass a message to her?”

  Evelyn thought for a moment. “Do you have a pencil and paper I can borrow?”

  “Of course. Step into my lair for a moment. I promise I won’t bite.” Vernon opened a back door and ushered her into a small office space. There was a desk with a chair behind it and several chests of drawers. She assumed it was where Vernon completed the necessary bueraucracy and accounting involved in running his establishment. He went behind the desk and found her a piece of cream writing paper and handed her his fountain pen.

  “Thank you,” Evelyn said, taking the pen. She thought for a moment, then wrote: Jos, I came to see if you were at home or with Vernon, just to say hello because I was missing you. I will see you in a few days, at Christmas. I’m really looking forward to it. Evie.

  The note seemed rather cold and formal, but she thought it was better to leave a note than nothing at all. At least now Jos would have something in her own words. She like the notion that it would give Jos pause, a moment of thinking about her. She folded the paper and handed it to Vernon. “If you wouldn’t mind giving that to her, I’d really appreciate it,” she said.

  “Of course, my dear. No trouble at all.” Vernon stood aside so that Evelyn could leave his office.

  She walked out into the cafe. “Thank you, Vernon,” she said, hoping she conveyed her gratitude for his understanding regarding Jos, not just for the gift of his stationery.

  “Not at all, Evie. I will reclaim the favour at a time of my choosing, naturally.”

  Evelyn smiled. It was impossible not to be amused by Vernon. “Of course,” she replied. “See you soon.” With that she turned and left the cafe, her thoughts full of the note she had left for Jos, the idea of Jos getting it and knowing Evelyn had come looking for her.

  *

  Jos called in to see Vernon on her way home from the theatre that evening. She was tired after a day in which it had seemed like everyone involved in the performance had thought of a question to ask her. Despite this, she realised she was feeling happy. She knew all too well that the source of that happiness was Evelyn and the prospect of seeing her again in just a few days.

  The days were passing slowly. She had considered going to visit Evelyn in the interim, but she did not want to pressurise her into anything. Evelyn had never been in any kind of relationship, let alone one so unexpected, and Jos had no way of knowing how she was feeling about this new development. She wanted to see Evelyn again, but it seemed the sensible course to give it time. Besides, she could hardly just call at the Graingers’ and ask to see Evelyn, considering Lilian’s and James’s hostility towards her and Evelyn’s current dependence on them.

  When she arrived at the Yellow Orchid, she found that her brother had already retired for the evening, leaving his staff to run the cafe. It was a quiet evening, the pianist the only musical entertainment for the few patrons, so she did not blame him. Vernon had worked hard to make his business a success and it was only in the last year or so that he’d begun to take the occasional evening away from the cafe floor. She teased him that he was getting old and he reminded her that she was the older twin, by exactly eleven minutes. Usually, that rejoinder seemed all too appropriate; she did feel her age. But now, with thoughts of what might come with Evelyn filling her thoughts, she had a new energy.

  Clive, who was standing at the bar when she arrived, directed her upstairs with a friendly greeting. She found Vernon relaxing in an armchair, his feet propped on a matching footstool. He was reading the newspaper, the room bathed in a gentle lamplight. He put the newspaper down when he heard her enter.

  “Sister, dear!” he said. “Just when I was beginning to think you weren’t coming to call after all.”

  “I said I would. I’m only late because everyone had something they needed me—and no one else—to do today.” Jos sat down in another chair, facing Vernon. “How’s your day been?”

  “Oh, not so bad. Business is quiet but I don’t mind that. I did have a visitor earlier, looking for you.”

  “Who?”

  “Evie Hopkins. She left a note, here.” Vernon picked up a folded piece of paper from the table at his side and leaned across to give it to her.

  Jos took it quickly and read the few words inside. “Thank you. Did she say what she wanted?” The note was remarkably unhelpful, although it made her heart glad to know that Evelyn had wanted to see her.

  “Not really. I think she was missing you and just wanted to say hello. It must be rather odd for her, after all, to spend one night with you, change her whole world, and then have to keep quiet about it and continue to make conversation with Lilian and James.”

  Jos read the note again and then levelled her gaze at Vernon. He played the fool, but he was capable of wisdom and insight. “Do you think I should go and see her?”

  “No
.” Vernon’s response was definite. “You’re going to see her in a couple of days, after all. I think the note has served its purpose—she’s let you know that she’s thinking about you. That will sustain her until Christmas, I’m sure.”

  Jos raised an eyebrow. “How do you know for certain?” Her first instinct was to go and find Evelyn now, reassure her, tell her that she missed her too. Which was a first for her, she realised. She did not usually miss women when she was not with them.

  “I don’t”—Vernon shrugged—“but what are you going to do, knock on the door and explain yourself to James and Lilian Grainger?”

  “It’s unlikely,” Jos acknowledged, “although I still don’t understand why they disapprove quite so much of me when Lilian is clearly very approving of you.”

  Vernon laughed gently. “Lilian doesn’t know what she approves or disapproves of. Just lately she’s been even worse. I’m considering disentangling myself from her, I confess.”

  “That’s most unlike you. Usually you wait until the ladies tire of you or see you with one of their friends and slap you.”

  “True enough. But Lilian is growing to be hard work. And I dislike her disapproval of you. She was fun for a while, and very energetic, but I’ve had to hear too many of her arduous views on the world now.” Vernon sighed.

  “She’s one of your stars,” Jos pointed out.

  “London is full of women who can hold a tune and dance a Charleston. Besides, I’m all for amicable separations. She can still sing here, if she wants.” Vernon did not sound concerned. Jos envied his ability to separate his emotions from his day-to-day life. She’d never managed it, despite many years of trying. “She was here today, just as Evie was leaving, and it was awfully tiresome. She’s so endlessly bright and lively, but so prone to snapping if I make a wrong move. It’s not like we feel anything for each other. The woman’s using me every bit as much as I’m using her. One of us needs to draw a line under it.”

  “How very mature of you,” Jos said, with gentle sarcasm.

  “Not really. I’d marry her and be eternally unhappy if I wanted to grow up,” Vernon said. “But we were talking about you, and your Devonshire beauty. I think she’s rather wonderful, by the way. You have far better judgement than I do.”

  “Thank you. I don’t think that was ever in question though.” Jos looked down at the letter again. “She said she misses me.”

  “And?”

  “It worries me. What does it mean?”

  “That she misses you, I expect. Don’t you miss her?” Apparently, it was simple in Vernon’s mind.

  “Actually, I do. And that’s strange.” Jos frowned.

  “Only for you, Jos. I’m led to believe that most couples miss their other half at some stage.”

  Jos rolled her eyes. “Is that supposed to be advice?”

  Vernon shrugged. “Not really. Just my thoughts. I think you have something good. Don’t ruin it.”

  “Like I usually do, you mean?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. You know it.”

  “But what if it only seems right because she’s so innocent? I don’t mean that as any insult to her, of course, but you must see it too. Everything’s new to her—it will take her time to form an opinion, to understand the world around her. What if, given time, she decides this isn’t for her?” Jos was relieved to have her brother to talk to, to have an outlet for her thoughts.

  “It’s a risk. But you have to take some of those in order to live, Jos. We’ve talked about this before. You can’t always be safe.”

  “I do know that. But the other side of things worries me too. In Evie’s world, men and women meet, court, and get married. I can’t marry her and I don’t even know if I would want to settle down in the way that Clara and Courtney or Gisela and Abigail have done. That’s never been what I wanted.”

  “And can’t what you want change?”

  “It can. But I don’t know if it has.” Jos really didn’t.

  “All you can do, Jos, is spend time with her. Wait until Christmas now. You know she’s still interested. See if you’ve changed, or not. If you haven’t, be honest and be kind.”

  “You’re right of course,” Jos conceded. “It’s not easy though. I find her irresistable, I have to admit. And I want to care for her.” She did not add that she felt as though she could love Evelyn, that perhaps she already did. Vernon would probably infer that from her words anyway.

  “And she seems to feel the same. Stop being frightened of what tomorrow holds, Jos. You can’t read the future, so just live in the day you’re in.”

  “I seem to think you’ve recommended that before.”

  “And yet you never listen.”

  “Well, that’s what brothers are for, isn’t it?”

  “What, to give sage advice and be entirely ignored?”

  Jos grinned. “Perhaps. But thank you.”

  Vernon smiled back. “Always welcome.”

  *

  The approach of Christmas turned Evelyn’s thoughts to home. Christmas was, after all, a time to be with family. It was when you visited family members you’d not seen in months, put aside differences to share a mince pie. And here she was, miles from her family and with no idea how they thought of her. She was still worried by the lack of communication from home. A small part of her was tempted to take a train back to West Coombe. To visit them, to find out how she was received. That she did not was partly from cowardice, that she would find nothing but anger and hostility to welcome her home, and she was not sure she could face it. But it was also out of the sense that she would find herself trapped there. Once she was in West Coombe, London would be just a memory, and she was frightened she could not make her way back. Now, that would not only mean losing the excitement of a new life, it would mean losing Jos. She could not risk that.

  However, she did feel compelled to write to her family again. She did not want them to think she had forgotten them, and perhaps, she would prompt a letter back. Ensconsed in her room, a fire in the grate and a shawl around her shoulders against the increasing winter cold, she wrote two letters, one to her parents and one to Edward:

  Dear Mother and Father,

  I hope this letter finds you well. I suspect it will at least find you warmer than me—London is much colder than West Coombe in winter!

  I am, of course, writing to wish you a very happy Christmas. I hope that you have a jolly time. I am sorry that I cannot be there with you—it’s an awfully long train journey and I am also not sure if you would welcome your wayward daughter. Please do write back, just a line or two, to let me know. I can arrange to visit in the New Year.

  I will certainly think of you all on Christmas Day. I will be spending my day with some friends I have made. I have lots of friends now, here in London.

  I am still relying on the generosity of some of those friends to allow me to stay here, but I am considering my options in terms of gainful employment. I will continue to let you know how that is progressing.

  I will admit, I like London and am happy here. I am still very sorry for any heartache I have caused you. I hope that is beginning to subside. I do miss you all but I hope you will understand that I had to try to find a way to be happy and I could not find that in West Coombe. My biggest regret is causing you pain or shame. I hope earnestly that you forgive me.

  I very much hope to hear from you soon.

  With love at Christmas and always,

  Your daughter,

  Evelyn

  Dearest Eddie,

  I am writing to say Happy Christmas! I hope this letter makes it to your hands and you can read this for yourself. I hope you do have a happy festive season. I am very sorry not to be there myself. I would give anything to be able to see you, my darling brother.

  I also want to let you know how happy I am here in London. Thank you for helping me find this life, Eddie. There is so much opportunity here, so many new friends. I have even found someone who I am developing something like love fo
r. I never knew I could feel so strongly. Every day is a new adventure here—I am finally flying, just like we talked about, just as I promised. I only wish you were here with me to see it.

  I miss you every day, Eddie, and I never forget that I am here because of you.

  I will be spending Christmas with a group of very good friends. I am not sure if we will have dinner, like we would at home, but I know that I will have a good time with them. I would like to introduce you to some of them, and maybe one day I’ll be able to.

  I’ve asked Mother and Father about the idea of visiting. It will, of course, be difficult, but I can’t imagine never coming to West Coombe again. I miss you all too much. I don’t suppose you know why they have not written to me since I’ve been here, but I must admit that I find it worrying.

  I know you can’t write back to me, Eddie. I wish you could but please don’t worry that you can’t. It is enough that I know you think of me.

  Have a very happy Christmas, Eddie. And know that I am happy too, because of you.

  With the fondest love,

  Your sister,

  Evie

  When she finished, Evelyn had tears in her eyes. She could not say whether they were tears of sadness, at separation from her family and the idea of a Christmas without them, or of joy and pride that she was finally living up to the dream she and Edward had shared.

  Wiping the tears away, Evelyn hurriedly folded the letters into envelopes and set out into the chill outside for the post office. The letters would arrive on the day before Christmas, so at least her family would think of her on that day.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Evelyn awoke early on Christmas morning, more excited than she had been since she was a child anticipating gifts from Father Christmas. Lying in bed, feeling the warmth of the blankets and the chill of the room, she pondered briefly how maturity changes a person. As a child, simply knowing there might be a tangerine, some nuts, possibly a tablet of chocolate, and a new toy waiting for her was enough to cause an almost convlusive excitement. Now, a grown woman, it was the thrill of seeing the woman who caused shivers of pleasure to run through her body and nothing to do with Christmas at all. This would be a very different Christmas to any she had known before.