Langdown Manor (7 page)

I stood in the middle of the room, watching as bolt after bolt of creamy white fabric was unrolled and laid on the bed for my inspection. They all looked the same to me, but Madame said they were ivory, cream and lily of the valley. Aunt told me to choose my favourite. I picked the first one Madame had unrolled. I didn't care which I wore. I didn't want to be presented. I didn't want to go to Court. And I most certainly did not want to be a young lady.

But in a few weeks' time this fabric would be draped around me – my presentation gown. In it I was to emerge like a butterfly from a chrysalis – a young lady.

Arabella was being fitted for her gown, too. She flitted from one fabric to another as a moth hovers round a candle, unable to make up her mind. I wanted to cry with impatience. How long did it take to choose a fabric? Aunt wanted us to match each other. But we'd never do that.

Outside, rain had begun to fall. But I was sure that Fred would be wondering where I was. I'd said I'd see him today. ‘Aunt,' I said, striving to keep the impatience out of my voice. ‘I was to have gone riding this afternoon.'

‘In this rain?' she said, lifting her eyebrows.

They were expecting me, I told her.

‘Not in this rain,' she said firmly.

It was still raining when at last I was free to go. But I wasn't going to let that stop me. Fred was expecting me. Sam, the hall boy, let me out. He yawned. It was the hour the servants had off.

I ran round the house to the stable yard. I kept my head down. The rain was coming down harder now. The door to Starshine's stall was open. I ran up to it. Fred was bent over inside, shirt-sleeves rolled up to his elbows, forking out the old hay and muck. He put down the fork and wiped his forehead, his back still to me. ‘Hello, Fred,' I said. I saw him start, as if he hadn't expected me. He turned round slowly, raising his eyes to mine.

‘I didn't think you'd come,' he said.
I'm glad you did
, his eyes said. A flush spread over his face. ‘Hot work,' he said, nodding at the fork.

I felt shy. ‘I had to see Starshine,' I said.

And you
, my eyes said.

I felt Starshine's nose nuzzle my arm. She gave a whinny. I was neglecting her. I hid my hot face in her mane, pretending that it was for her alone I'd come.

Fred picked up the fork and began to rake the hay. ‘Didn't have a chance to do this earlier,' he said. He was looking anywhere but at me. Then he put down the fork, leaning it against the side of the stall. ‘You must be cold,' he said. ‘And look, you're wet!' he exclaimed as if he'd only just noticed. ‘Here.' He tramped over to the wall and unhooked his jacket off a nail. ‘Put this on if you're staying.'

Please stay
, his eyes said.

I'm staying
, mine said. He put the jacket round my shoulders. His hands rested there. I felt them tremble.

‘Polly,' he said softly. He had never called me that before. I looked up. His eyes were gazing into mine. I felt as if I was standing too close to a fire. I looked away.

‘Polly,' he whispered again. I raised my eyes to his. I felt as if his hand was holding my heart, squeezing it tight. This time I didn't look away.

He bent his head to mine. Our lips met.

How warm they felt against mine. Warm and sweet and soft. I had never kissed a boy before. I felt dizzy.

I felt his hands drop to my waist. He pulled me close to him. His heart was beating rapidly against mine. My head was resting against his shoulder. ‘Polly,' he murmured. ‘Oh, Poll.' Then he held me away from him and we looked at each other. I gave a little shiver. ‘Are you still cold?' he said. He slipped the jacket off my shoulders. ‘Put it on properly, it will keep you warm.' I slipped my arms into the sleeves of his jacket. It was too big for me, and the sleeves hung down over my hands. I saw him smile. ‘It doesn't fit very well,' he said. I snuggled into it.

‘It fits very well,' I said. I smiled.

He touched my cheek softly. ‘You have a dimple here, when you smile. Right there. It's nice.'

I took his hand and held it to my lips.

‘Oh, Polly,' he said. It was his arms I could feel round me now, his breath warm against my cheek. I felt as if the world was vanishing around me. There was only Fred and me. I could have stood there with him for ever. Nothing else mattered.

I felt his hands slacken suddenly. I moved closer, but he pulled away.

‘Poll,' he said. ‘We shouldn't do this. I'm sorry… I don't know what came over me. You… I…' He swallowed.

‘I'm not sorry,' I said. ‘I'm glad.'

‘Oh Poll,' he said. ‘Don't you see? You're a young lady and I…' His foot kicked the wall angrily.

I leaned my head against the rough wood of the stall.

‘I don't care,' I said stubbornly.

‘You should,' he said.

‘Fred—' I began. How could I tell him how happy he had made me? He couldn't take that away from me now. He just couldn't. I wouldn't let him.

‘Fred!' a voice bellowed from the yard. ‘How much longer are you going to be mucking out that hoss? There's the yard to sweep still, and then the carriage wheels need oiling. Her ladyship needs it for a drive tomorrow.'

‘I should go,' I said. I slipped my arms reluctantly out of the jacket and handed it to him. Our fingers touched.

‘I'll see you tomorrow,' I said. He dug the fork into the hay. He didn't answer. He didn't look round.

I felt as if I was floating as I ran back to the house. I floated up the steps and into the hall. I floated towards the staircase. Halfway up I nearly floated into Arabella. She reared back, gazing at me as if I was some frightful apparition.

‘Penelope!' she exclaimed. ‘Your hair!'

It was dripping on to the carpet. I hadn't noticed.

‘What of it?' I said.

‘It's wet.'

She sniffed suspiciously.

‘You smell of the stable,' she said wrinkling up her nose. I couldn't think how she knew. She never went there.

I felt myself blush. ‘I've been to see my horse.'

She looked at me as if I was mad.

‘In this weather? Couldn't you have taken an umbrella?'

‘I didn't think.'

She pursed up her lips. ‘It isn't ladylike.'

What was?

‘You shouldn't spend so much time with servants. It upsets them.'

‘Why not? Clemmie does,' I said. I'd seen her slip through the door that led to the servants' quarters in the basement. She had tea down there too sometimes.

‘Clemmie's a child. Anyway, she grew up with servants.'

And I hadn't? Where did she think I'd lived before I came to Langdown? In a hovel? ‘Arabella,' I said, ‘if you'd made any effort to be my friend, maybe I wouldn't need to seek the company of servants and animals. Now, if you will excuse me! I must dry my hair.' I elbowed past her, up the stairs.

I walked quickly, half afraid I'd hear her slippered feet patter after me. But she didn't try to follow me. I reached my room, and flung myself on the bed. I lay on my back and stared up at the ceiling. The damp patch seemed to have grown bigger. I shut my eyes so that I could shut it out, shut out Arabella's sneering face, shut out everything but Fred – and the memory of what had happened between us. Had he truly kissed me? Had I really kissed him back? I tried to remember how his lips had felt, on mine.

My wet hair soaking into my gown. I sat up. There were damp patches on the bed where I'd lain. I looked at them in dismay. Baxter would be along soon to close the curtains and light the fire. What would she think when she saw them? I grabbed a towel and began to rub my hair. I still felt as if I was hovering above the ground. Outside it was almost too dark now to see. Langdown, Arabella, suddenly it all felt unreal. I thought of Fred, sweeping out the yard, oiling the wheels on Aunt's carriage. The kisses we'd shared.
That
was real.

Tomorrow, I thought. Tomorrow.

‘Closer!' Madame urged us. ‘Closer.' We were practising our new dance steps, prancing across the ballroom floor, holding each other at arm's length. ‘Young ladies, you do not attend this morning. Neither of you.' Her reproof slid off me. My feet felt as if they were dancing several inches off the floor. I was holding Arabella as far from me as I could, our fingers barely touching. We had ignored each other since our encounter on the stairs the previous afternoon. But now I reached out to pull Arabella towards me. She leaned away. ‘We may as well do as she asks,' I hissed, ‘or we'll be here all day.'

‘You wouldn't like that, would you?' she said slyly. What lay behind those eyes? She didn't know, did she, how could she know? What had she said to me on the stairs? My heart had been so full of Fred I'd barely taken it in. Now I remembered.
You shouldn't spend so much time with servants.
Panic rose inside me. I fought it down. Surely even Arabella wouldn't suspect that I had fallen for one of her father's stable hands? I felt her hand tighten on my waist. My slippered toe edged towards hers. I yearned to send her sprawling across the polished floor.

‘Heads up, ladies. Look at your partner. Keep your heads level.'

I kept my head level, but nothing would induce me to look into those cold grey eyes. I grasped Arabella firmly round the waist for one final twirl. It took her by surprise. She stumbled and spun away from me across the ballroom floor. ‘Oh dear,' I said as she grabbed at a chair to right herself. ‘Are you all right?' I ran to her side.

‘I can do very well without your help,' she hissed.

‘I think maybe that is enough for today,' Madame said despairingly.

At lunch I saw that an extra place had been laid at the table. Cousin George was expected home that day, though he hadn't telephoned to say when. ‘He will have to wait till we get back if he wants to be fetched from the station,' Aunt said as we rose from the table. ‘I will not postpone our drive.' The coachman doubled as chauffeur – when Aunt could be persuaded to be driven in the motor – and he could not be in two places at once.

‘How like the boy not to think of others,' Uncle growled, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

I was to have accompanied them, but I'd pleaded a headache when I'd learned Arabella was to be in the party. Nothing would induce me to spend any more time in my cousin's company than I had to. Aunt said I looked tired, and suggested a rest. I was tired – I had hardly slept at all the previous night. But I had no intention of resting. As soon as I saw the carriage depart, I hurried upstairs to put on my riding clothes. I'd not told Baxter to put them out, but they were pressed and clean. I pulled a coat on over my riding habit in case I met a servant and ran to the top of the stairs. I was about to descend when I heard voices below. Peering over the banister I could see Clemmie and Miss Dunn standing in the hall, in their hats and coats. I had forgotten that Clemmie had stayed behind. I crouched down, in case they looked up and saw me while I debated what to do. But there really was only one thing I could do – return to my room and wait till they came back from their walk. Cursing my luck, I made my way wearily back to my room, and sat down on my bed. I picked up a book, then threw it aside. I didn't want to read. Precious minutes were slipping by – minutes I'd thought to spend with Fred. I got up again. I couldn't sit there all afternoon. I opened the door and looked out. No one was about. I went back to the stairs and ran softly down. If Clemmie and Miss Dunn did return and see me I'd simply tell them that my headache had gone, and I'd come outside for some fresh air.

I was halfway along the gravel path that led round the house to the outbuildings when I heard a motor horn toot. A pink two-seater motor car was sweeping up the drive. The driver waved. He had seen me. Fate it seemed was against me today. The motor car came to a halt and a man in goggles jumped out. The engine was still running.

He bounded up to me. ‘Cousin Penelope,' he said, pulling off his goggles. He bowed. I stared. Cousin George, I thought. But how did he know who I was? The faint shadow of a moustache clung to his upper lip.

‘Don't look so startled,' my cousin chuckled, pulling off his driving gloves. ‘If I'm not mistaken, that's a riding habit you have on under that coat. You see I know all about you. Very fetching, too.'

My mouth had dropped open. I must have looked anything but fetching.

He laughed. ‘There's no mystery,' he said. ‘I've seen a photograph of your mother. You're the spitting image of her. Now,' he said. ‘Allow me to introduce myself properly. I'm your cousin George.' His eyes twinkled. ‘And this,' he said, nodding at the motor, ‘is my beloved motor car. Isn't she a beauty?' He gazed at it proudly. ‘Come and have a look.'

We walked over to the car.

‘Are the family at home?' he asked me.

‘Only Clemmie,' I said. ‘Everyone else has gone out in the carriage.'

‘And you seized the opportunity to have a ride while they were away?'

I blushed.

He smiled. ‘Your secret's safe with me,' he said.

We reached the car. ‘It is beautiful,' I said, running a hand over the pink shining metal.

George opened the door. ‘Why don't you hop in?' he said. ‘I'll take you for a spin.'

I stared at him.

‘Wouldn't you like a ride?'

Yes, I would. I was on my way to the stables for just that purpose.

‘Come on,' he said, patting the side of the car.

I would have to postpone my ride, but it wouldn't be for long.

‘A short one then,' I said.

‘A very short one,' George said.

I climbed in and settled down on the brown leather seat next to my cousin. There didn't seem to be anything else I could do. Besides, I was eager to see what it would be like. I'd never been for a drive in a car like this before.

‘We won't be long,' he said. ‘I promise. You'll still have time for a ride on a gee-gee afterwards.'

He let out the clutch. ‘Make sure you hold on to your hat,' he said. I jumped as the engine began to throb. Forgetting my hat I clung with both hands to the edges of my seat. George laughed, looking round at me. ‘Quite different to riding a horse, isn't it?'

I laughed. The way the car was behaving, it didn't feel that different. ‘How fast can it go?' I asked.

‘This beauty?' said George. ‘She can reach a speed of 45 miles per hour. Not as fast as a galloping horse, I know, but she does have certain advantages that a horse doesn't have. And believe me, it won't be long before the motor car will be able to go a lot faster than a horse. Cars, Penelope, are the future.' He was very sure of himself, I thought.

‘Do you ride, too?' I asked as he put a foot down on the accelerator. ‘On horseback I mean.' The car began to glide forwards.

‘Of course,' he said. ‘I'll be at the Langdown Meet. Will you be joining us?'

‘Need you ask?' I said.

He laughed. ‘I thought so.' We were going faster now. The wind rushed past my ears. ‘Like it?' he shouted.

‘Love it!' I shouted back.

‘Better hold on to your hat!' George bawled. Too late. I watched helplessly as the wind grabbed it and spun it away. He laughed and I joined in. I'd pick it up later. He put his foot down again. The dial on the dashboard began to climb. ‘Let's see how fast she'll go, shall we?' he said.

And then – I wasn't sure what happened, but I heard him curse, and the wheel spun fast in his hands. We swerved violently to one side. I heard a horse's startled whinny. Where had that horse come from? I looked round to see that a carriage had turned into the drive. As we careered past, only just missing it, I caught a glimpse of Aunt's shocked face peering out at us. Then we were bumping over the grass. ‘Hold tight!' George shouted, flinging out an arm in front of me. The car rocked over to one side, and I felt a sharp pain zigzag up my arm as I was flung against the edge of the seat. My heart was racing. A dull pain pulsed in my shoulder. I tried to take deep breaths. ‘Sorry about that,' said George quietly. ‘Are you all right?' I nodded. My shoulder was throbbing, but I didn't mind the pain. I was furious with myself for letting myself be persuaded into that car. I'd ruined the afternoon that I'd hoped to spend with Fred, and I had only myself to blame.

‘Young fool!' I looked round to see that the carriage door had opened. Uncle was striding towards us.

‘Cripes, I'm for it now,' George murmured.

So was I. I put my head in my hands and groaned. What would Uncle say when he saw what I was wearing?

He reached the car.

‘Young fool!' he said again. ‘Don't you have eyes in your head? You could have had us all killed.' The fury in his eyes encompassed me.

‘Get out of that motor,' he said. George climbed out obediently like a naughty schoolboy. I wished I could crawl away into a hole. ‘Are you all right, Penelope?' Uncle asked, turning to me. I nodded and he opened the door for me, holding out his hand to help me out. His eyes took in my riding habit, my hatless head, my hair standing up like a brush. ‘You have recovered from your headache, I see?' he said dryly. I felt myself flush. He shook his head – I could see that he was disappointed in me. ‘George, help your cousin to the house,' he said. ‘I will see you both in the drawing room.'

George gave me his arm. ‘I am so sorry,' he said. Not half as sorry as I was. We made our way slowly up to the house. What would Aunt say when she saw me? Oh why oh why had I ever got into that car?

 

Uncle leaned against the mantelpiece and lit a cigar. George and I were sitting on chairs facing him. I felt like a pupil awaiting the schoolmaster's scolding. My cup of tea was abandoned on a table to my side. I felt my arm throb, but its steady ache helped distract me. Uncle pulled on his cigar. He looked at George. ‘Explain that – toy – outside if you'd be so good.' George stared past him into the fireplace.

‘Dash it, Pater. A chap must cut some sort of a figure at university, you know.'

‘So long as that chap can pay for it,' said Uncle, knocking cigar ash into the grate. Aunt hated Uncle doing this, but now she said nothing. Uncle was so angry, not noisily angry any more, but quiet, which was more frightening.

‘Pater, I've put down one payment…'

‘You weren't thinking of presenting me with a bill for the remainder, were you, George? You already have a very generous allowance,' Uncle said.

‘Please, Pater, not in front of the girls!' George pleaded, casting a glance at Arabella and Clemmie. Arabella sat stony-faced. Clemmie was looking as if she'd burst into tears.

‘I think they should hear this,' said Uncle. ‘After all, the more you fritter away the less there'll be for your sisters' dowries.'

But I didn't need to hear it, I thought. I shifted uncomfortably on my seat. George's extravagance and my cousins' dowries had nothing to do with me. Father sent me an allowance each month, but I had no idea what provision if any had been made for my marriage.
If
I married…

‘Father!' George pleaded again.

‘As I said, you have a generous allowance,' Uncle said calmly. ‘Do you see this house? There is death-watch beetle in one wing and the roof leaks. If you wish to inherit a home rather than a mountain of debt you will need to learn to moderate your spending – and the sooner the better.

‘Nor will I tolerate such reckless behaviour,' Uncle carried on. ‘You could both have been killed. We could all have been killed!' His voice had begun to rise. A vein bulged in his neck.

For some time now I had felt Aunt's eye on me and now she rose.
You deal with George and I will deal with Penelope.

‘I don't think Penelope needs to hear this. Come, Penelope.' I'd anticipated a scolding, but at least it would be in private. I followed her into the morning room. Aunt sat down behind the huge desk. I stood in front of it, hands clasped nervously together. I felt like a servant who has not given satisfaction and is expecting dismissal. There was a big bronze paperweight on the desk. I fixed my eyes on it.

‘Sit down,' Aunt said, gesturing to a chair. I sat.

‘Are you all right, Penelope? You didn't hurt yourself, did you?'

Only my shoulder, but if I tell you that you'll never let me out of the house again.

‘I blame George for what happened, but I am disappointed in you, too. You did not tell me the truth, did you? You didn't have a headache, and I see that you are in your riding habit. I had expected better, Penelope.'

I made up my mind to apologize. ‘I'm sorry, Aunt.'

She sighed.

‘We haven't got off to a very good start, have we, Penelope?'

I kept my eyes on the paperweight.