Beauty Chorus, The (25 page)

‘Can you just make sure she’s OK, sir? I don’t want him giving her any trouble because of this.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Beau said, ‘I’ll take care of her.’

24

Evie sat on the back doorstep of the cottage in a pool of sunlight, plucking a pigeon to make a pie for supper. She was wearing a broad-brimmed felt fedora, and a thick argyle
jumper over her silk nightgown against the crisp spring air. When she’d got up she had pulled on a pair of knitted socks up over her knees, and a pair of jodhpur boots, and she hadn’t
bothered to change.

‘I take it you’re not coming to church?’ Stella said as she strolled into the kitchen. ‘That’s rather an eclectic look.’

Evie turned her head. ‘Very funny. You look nice.’

‘Thank you. Michael is coming to pick us up.’ Stella smoothed her hair in the mirror.

‘Is Megan going too? I thought she was Methodist.’

‘She is. She normally goes to the chapel but I could do with some moral support.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Mike’s housekeeper doesn’t like me. Mrs Biggs keeps giving me the evil eye each Sunday. If looks could kill! She’s a funny woman. Mike and I are friends –
that’s all. Still, let them gossip. I don’t care.’

Evie’s eyes twinkled. ‘At least with a couple of you there it will look less suspicious.’ When Stella ignored her teasing, Evie glanced up. She could see from the set of her
face she was in one of her moods. ‘Will you be home for lunch?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said as she poked irritably at her hat. ‘We might just go to the Barn for a bite afterwards.’ Stella frowned as she looked at the pigeon.
‘To be honest that doesn’t look very appetising.’

Evie waved the bird in her direction. ‘You don’t get away with it that easily. It’s pigeon pie for supper. Take it or leave it.’ Evie turned back to the plucking. It was
not a pleasant job and she winced slightly as she pulled clumps of feathers from the scrawny bird. The farmer had given it to Megan, and she was loathe to disappoint her by not cooking something
with it.

‘Eugh, hateful bird,’ she said. She was upset about Jack’s fight still, and worried about him.
Why on earth did he get into a fight?
she thought. The news had spread
quickly through the pool – she’d heard Teddy was flaunting his black eye like a war wound. She threw the little bird down in frustration. She was looking forward to getting back to work
tomorrow. Her day’s leave without Jack had dragged, and she was missing him. She had helped Megan plant carrots and cauliflowers, and they fixed the wire on the chicken coop where the fox had
tried to get in. It helped to stay busy, but she felt Jack’s absence keenly. She leant against the doorframe and lit a cigarette. ‘I think I’ll go for a ride once you’re in
the oven,’ she said to the pigeon.

There was a brisk knock at the front door, and Michael stepped in. ‘Morning,’ he said when he saw Stella. ‘You do look smart. Are you all ready?’

Megan clattered downstairs. ‘Hello, Michael, I thought I heard the pony and trap. What fun!’ She raced outside.

Evie brushed the feathers from her lap. ‘Are you joining us, Evie?’ Michael asked doubtfully.

‘Sorry … pigeon.’ She gestured vaguely at the mangled little bird on the doorstep. ‘I’ve never done this before.’

‘Evie’s not coming.’ Stella took Michael’s arm. ‘She’s a bit tired,’ she winked at Evie. ‘Jack, her fiancé, came to stay this
weekend.’

‘Came to stay?’ Michael coloured. ‘Oh, you mean they …?’

‘No she does not mean that!’ Evie put her hands on her hips indignantly. ‘Why does
everyone assume I’m some floozie?’

‘Hold on.’ Evie cursed as she pushed the bit into Monty’s mouth. He tossed his head impatiently. ‘I know, I want to get out of here too. Why do so many
people make assumptions about me, Monty?’ She tugged his forelock clear of the bridle, and kissed his nose.
I don’t do that, do I?
she thought.
I take people as they are. I
don’t jump to conclusions.
Beau’s words at the Riviera had stung her. She wished she didn’t care so much about his good opinion. As she stroked the horse, her engagement ring
shone in the midday sun.
It’s nonsense
, she told herself.
I have to get myself back on form. All these bally idiots have knocked my confidence, that’s all. I’ll show
them.
As she leapt into the saddle, Evie imagined herself walking down the aisle of All Saints on Leo’s arm, saw Jack turn by the altar and smile at her. She pictured an elegant white
dress, her grandmother’s intricate lace veil.
I just want it to be simple, and beautiful
, she thought.
Orange blossom, old roses for my bouquet. Perhaps we could marry in the late
afternoon, and the church could be filled with white candles.

‘Come on, Monty,’ she said as she dug in her heels. ‘Time to pay Daddy a visit.’

The moment Evie clattered into the stable yard at her father’s house she spotted Leo and Virginia on the pool terrace having pre-lunch drinks with Mary. She kicked Monty
on along the gravel path, cleared the box hedge and cantered across the lawn.

Leo clapped his hands as she reined in beside the steps. ‘Splendid!’ he said, laughing in delight as he walked down to her. ‘Just in time for lunch.’

‘Thank you but I’m not stopping, Daddy.’

‘What
are
you wearing?’ Virginia said, her upper lip curling in distaste.

Evie looked down at her moth-eaten jumper. She had simply pulled a pair of jodhpurs on over her nightie and set off. She tipped the fedora back defiantly with her index finger, and ignored
her.

Leo rummaged through his pockets and gave Monty a peppermint. ‘It’s good to see you, darling. How are you—’

‘I’m fine,’ Evie said. She wanted very much to give him a hug, but at that moment Virginia walked over and slipped a proprietorial arm through his. ‘In fact I have some
good news.’

‘I told you she’d be in the club before long.’ Virginia sighed.

‘Actually I’m getting married.’ Evie held up her hand to show them the ring.

‘Married?’ Leo looked stunned.

‘You don’t know him. Jack’s going to write to you – he wants to do everything properly and ask your permission. He’s an American.’

‘Marvellous …’ Virginia rolled her eyes.

‘His name is Jack Whitman, and after the war we shall live in Montana together.’

‘Do you love him?’ Leo asked.

‘Yes.’

‘How will he support you?’

‘His family own a ranch.’ Evie had expected Leo to explode and had readied herself for a fight, but he seemed strangely subdued.

‘I’m …’ He hesitated. ‘I’m just going to get you a glass of champagne. We should make a toast.’

‘The simple life, eh?’ Virginia inspected her glossy red nails once he had gone.

‘You’ll never see me again,’ Evie said quietly to her. ‘Are you happy now?’

‘Delirious.’ Virginia squinted as she looked up at Evie, and pulled a pair of sunglasses from her pocket. ‘You know you’ll never be happy with that kind of
life.’

‘What do you know?’ She saw Leo was busy handing Mary a flute of champagne, so she leant closer to her stepmother. ‘How does it feel to be you, Virginia?’ she whispered.
‘Have you ever felt really alive, and happy, and in love?’

‘This isn’t love, you foolish girl, it’s infatuation, a whirlwind romance.’

Evie flinched. She was too close to the truth. ‘Nonsense.’

‘How long have you known this boy? Or is he a man?’

‘A few weeks. Long enough—’

Virginia cut her off. ‘This is so typical of you. You take all this for granted.’ She waved her hand across the beautiful vista of the house and grounds. ‘You’re playing
at roughing it with your little friends in that pathetic cottage, and now you’re playing at romance.’

‘I’m not playing,’ Evie whispered. ‘This is my life, and I choose how to live it.’ She glanced up; Leo was coming over. ‘I was born to “all this”,
at least I didn’t claw my way up to it on my back.’

As Virginia opened her mouth to speak, Leo handed her a glass of champagne, and gave one to Evie. ‘Congratulations, darling! I wish you every happiness.’

There was something new in Leo’s eyes that unsettled Evie. She was unnerved by his calm reaction too. Evie drained her glass, and handed it back to him as Virginia stormed off towards the
house without another word. ‘Thank you, Daddy,’ she said, and wheeled Monty around. ‘Hello, Mary,’ she called. ‘I am sorry I can’t stop.’

She raised her glass. ‘Congratulations, darling.’

‘Can I come and see you next week? I was rather hoping you’d be my Matron of Honour.’

Mary blew her a kiss. ‘It would be my pleasure.’

25

Evie rode for hours, trying to shake off her bad mood. As she finally thundered across the country lanes towards home, her thoughts turned to Jack. She guessed he must have
been defending her honour but she couldn’t figure out how he knew about Teddy’s lies because she had never told him, and the only person she had talked about it with was …
‘Beau,’ she said aloud as she spotted his Triumph motorbike parked outside a pretty white cottage on the edge of the field. She wheeled Montgomery around and trotted over. At the gate
she jumped down and tethered the horse.

It’s so unlike him to gossip, why on earth would he have told Jack?
Evie thought angrily as she pushed the gate open and strode along a brick path lined with yellow and purple
crocuses.
He must have known he’d pick a fight with Teddy.
When no one answered her furious knocking she pushed open the door of the cottage. Wagner’s
Tristan und Isolde
blasted full volume from the gramophone in the living room.

‘Hello?’ she called.
Well this is very Bayreuth isn’t it?
She walked uncertainly through the house as the music swelled around her. Apart from a few books on the kitchen
table and an empty whisky bottle on the draining board, the shabbily furnished house might have been uninhabited. It was immaculately clean but totally impersonal. Evie pursed her lips as she
thought,
I like what he’s done with the place.
‘Hello?’ she tried again. The back door was open, so she strode outside, her temper rising. An overgrown pergola choked with
brambles blocked her view but she could hear raised voices in the garden.

‘I don’t care. How many times—’

‘Alex, darling—’

‘Olivia, you weren’t there when I needed you most. You don’t want me, you never loved me—’

‘But I do! Don’t you see? Last night, when I thought I was going to die, everything became clear.’

Evie hesitated for a moment, began to back away towards the kitchen. Her boot knocked a rake standing by the back door, and it fell to the floor with a clatter.

‘Who’s there?’ Beau yelled.

Damn
, Evie thought, her heart beating fast. It was too late now. ‘It’s me, sir, Evie.’ She took a deep breath and strode through the pergola with a confident smile. The
moment she saw Beau, it faded.

‘Sir?’ She froze in her tracks. ‘What’s happened?’

He was slumped on a wooden bench in the garden, a half-empty bottle of whisky at his side. His eyes were red. When he turned to Evie, she saw the grief there. Olivia was on her knees at his
side. Angrily, Beau snatched away his hand from hers and wiped at his cheeks with the heel of his palm.

Olivia glared at Evie, her pale eyes smudged with mascara. ‘What’s she doing here?’

‘Hello again,’ Evie said pleasantly. ‘We’re neighbours. I thought Wing Commander Beaufort was alone.’

‘I bet you did. Do all your pupils make social visits, Alex?’

Evie ignored her and turned to Beau. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

‘Go away, Miss Chase. It’s not a good time, as you can see.’

‘Surely I can help?’

‘Just go.’

Olivia got to her feet, glared at Evie. ‘You heard him,’ she said.

‘I meant both of you. Go on, leave me alone,’ he yelled.

Olivia turned to him, the colour rising in her cheeks. ‘How dare you? How dare you t-talk to me like that?’ she stammered, her eyes flickering wildly before she ran from the garden.
A moment later, Evie heard the distant throb of a car engine roaring to life.

Beau slumped on the bench, his head in his hands. ‘I wish everyone would just ruddy well leave me alone.’

Evie folded her arms. ‘Isn’t it rather tragic, drinking alone, sir?’

Blearily he looked up at her. ‘Olivia doesn’t drink. If you insist, there’s another glass in the kitchen.’

When she returned, Beau poured her a large shot of whisky. ‘Cheers,’ he said. As he lit a cigarette, Evie stretched out on the grass at his feet, turned her face to the evening sun.
In the silence, all she could hear was birdsong.

‘It’s such a bloody mess,’ he said finally.

‘What is?’

‘Me. Olivia …’ He shook his head. ‘You know, she was nearly killed last night.’

She looked remarkably well to me
, Evie thought. ‘What happened?’

‘Her mother rang the airfield in hysterics this morning.’ He took a hit of whisky. ‘I’d been stuck out all night on one of those bloody trains, but Olivia was in the
Café de Paris apparently. Probably with some boyfriend or other.’

‘The bomb?’ Evie had heard on the BBC Home Service that thirty-four people had been killed, including the bandleader Snake Hips Johnson.

‘Ironic, isn’t it? She’s scared of everything. It was the only club she’d still go to because they said it was bombproof. The bastard got lucky, dropped a bomb straight
down through the Rialto’s roof.’ He exhaled, the plume of smoke blue against the sky. ‘Of course I went straight up to town. She was in hospital, not a scratch on her,
luckily.’

‘Poor thing. It must have been ghastly.’

‘Now of course she’s saying it’s made her realise how much she loves me, how foolish she’s been.’

Evie sipped her drink, the Scotch warming her throat. She swirled the glass. ‘Will you marry her then?’

‘I feel responsible for her. And the family …’

‘Responsibility isn’t love,’ Evie said quietly.

‘Even when we were children, she needed me. I wanted to protect her.’ Evie waited for him to go on. ‘She left me, you know. She couldn’t cope with how I looked after I
was shot down.’ Evie had never seen him like this. The guardedness stripped away. ‘Just when I needed
her
for a change, she abandoned me.’