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‘Glorious concert, young Maxine,’ Jesse Clancey, her stepfather, commented.
‘Oh, it was brilliant, Jesse. I couldn’t believe it when everybody sang “Happy Birthday”.’
After they had discussed the concert a while longer, Henzey said, ‘And this is Stephen’s sister, Pansy, I presume?’
Henzey and Pansy had not met before but they greeted each other like long-lost sisters and Pansy’s green eyes creased into a warm smile. She was about the same height as Maxine, slim and pretty, with a mop of thick, titian hair. There could be no confusing her and Maxine; they were so different.
Meanwhile Will was welcoming others, taking their coats and hats and guiding them to the parlour where mounds of sandwiches and cakes graced the table.
‘You must be proud of your youngest daughter, Lizzie,’ Will said. ‘I thought she did very well tonight. She seemed to fit in well.’
‘Oh, I’m proud of her all right, Will,’ Lizzie answered, taking a dry sherry from him and nodding her thanks. She raised her glass. ‘But Jesse can take some of the credit. He’s encouraged her as much as anybody – paid for her to go through music school. He’s been like a father to her…to them all.’
Jesse joined them, clutching a pint of beer. ‘Can I just say, Will, how grateful we are to you for holding this party here. We’d intended holding one at the dairy house, o’ course, but with Maxine suddenly landing this job and all…’
‘You’re welcome, Jesse. It just seemed more logical now she’s living here.’
‘Behaving herself, is she?’
Will laughed and patted Jesse on the back. ‘What do you think? I’ve got no complaints.’
‘Lizzie tells me you’re moving house, Will. To Dudley. Do you intend Maxine to lodge with you still? I mean she’d be welcome to live at the dairy house.’
‘It’s up to her, Jesse. I’m content for her to live with us if that’s what she wants. Like I say, I’ve got no complaints.’
In the front room, somebody was thumping out tunes on the piano.
‘That’ll be Joe, Lizzie’s brother,’ Jesse chortled. ‘He don’t half love to play the piano at parties. He’ll have we all singing at the tops of we voices in no time. Mark my words.’
‘They’re a lively lot, aren’t they?’ Pansy remarked.
‘You just wait.’ Jesse turned to Will. ‘Anyway, Will, we’ve all brought something for Maxine. Can I count on you to bring everybody to order later, so’s we can present ’em to her?’
Will nodded. ‘Leave it to me, Jesse.’
Before long, after he had already shepherded everybody into the front room, Will was trying to attract their attention, his hands in the air like a politician fending off hecklers. ‘All right, everyone! Would everyone please listen?’ The piano playing, the singing and the talking stopped. ‘Now, we all know why we’re here, and I hope you’re all enjoying yourselves…Well it’s time to wish Maxine, my very talented sister-in-law, a very happy birthday.’
The cheer from the family turned into a rousing chorus of ‘Happy Birthday to You’, then more cheers and shouts of ‘Speech!’
‘Twenty-one is a person’s coming of age,’ Will went on after his further request to be heard had been heeded. ‘It’s that time in a young person’s life when she is considered an adult, considered to be of an age, at last, when she can be independent. She can come and go as she pleases – within reason – which is why she is traditionally handed the key of the door…’
‘She’s already got the key to our door,’ Henzey remarked.
‘It is a time when she doesn’t have to seek permission from her parents to get married, if marriage is on the agenda. It is a time when she can sign up to any legal binding contract. In short, it’s a time of freedom from the constraints of parental discipline. However, I have got to know Maxine a little better since she’s been living here with Henzey and me, and I believe she is not one to abuse such freedoms. She’s sensible, level-headed…and, incidentally, far too modest about the exceptional talent she has. So…before we all shower her with gifts and congratulate her, let’s make her sing for her supper…’ Will grinned roguishly. ‘Maxine, I’m well aware that your cello playing has done you proud recently, but some of us here consider your piano playing worth a listen. So would you like to take the stool and play?’
Maxine blushed, giggling with embarrassment while Joe moved clumsily away from the piano. ‘What on earth shall I play?’ she asked as she sat down.
‘How about ‘Clair de Lune?’’ Henzey suggested. ‘That’s one of my favourites.’
‘Okay. There’s this nice romantic passage…’
Debussy’s inspired music flowed easily, melodically through Maxine’s fingers, while everyone listened in attentive silence. She played the section tenderly, demonstrating an accomplishment beyond her years. It never crossed her mind to wonder if anybody knew how difficult it was; the long hours of practice needed to play well; the dedication. Yet, it was clear for all to see that Maxine had a natural gift since she could play two instruments with such apparent finesse.
‘Play something modern,’ Herbert, her brother, cried when the piece was finished. ‘We’ve had enough classical for one night.’
‘You and Pansy play that Fats Waller thing,’ Stephen suggested.
‘Oh, yes. I know,’ Maxine replied, glad of a prompt. ‘ “Whose Honey Are You”. Come on, Pansy. Will you play on this one?’
Pansy took the piano stool and began to play. Immediately, the compulsive rhythm had everybody’s feet tapping. But even more of a surprise than the piano playing of either girl, was Maxine’s singing as she leaned against the piano. Nobody had ever heard her sing before.
‘Do “Stormy Weather”,’ Stephen called. ‘You know – that one by Ethel Waters.’
Pansy played the introduction and Maxine launched into the song, using the same soft vocal technique, mimicking the style of Ethel Waters. This American music was unfamiliar to most of them, since few such records were available and they listened to few on the wireless, but everyone was stunned silent by Maxine’s vocal dexterity.
‘More, Maxine!’ Will called when it was finished. ‘That was great. Do you know any more?’
‘They could go on half the night, I daresay,’ Jesse answered.
‘Isn’t that enough?’ Maxine asked at the end of it, effervescing with her success and enjoying the attention she was getting. ‘Can’t I have my presents now?’
‘One more,’ Herbert called.
‘Yes, one more,’ Will echoed.
‘Then can I have my presents?’
They all agreed she could.
‘Okay. Well here’s one for Jesse. Mom would have asked me to play it, I know…’
Pansy vacated the piano stool when it was obvious that Maxine wanted to accompany herself this time. She launched into a compulsively rhythmic, ‘My Very Good Friend the Milkman’.
‘Oh, very appropriate,’ Jesse the dairyman remarked to Lizzie with a wry grin.
‘Cheeky madam,’ her mother declared, watching and listening with profound pride. ‘She told me she’d get a job playing piano and singing in a pub if she had to,’ she whispered to Jesse, ‘but I never realised she’d be this good. She’s come on a bundle since she left home.’
It was obvious that most of the folk present would have allowed Maxine to play and sing for them all night, but Will brought the impromptu concert to a close.
‘Maxine,’ he said, and raised his glass. ‘God bless you and your wonderful talent. Here’s to your future success and happiness. Congratulations and many happy returns of the day.’ He drank, and everybody followed his example. ‘Now…I understand that one or two of us have gifts for you…’
Henzey stepped forward before anyone else. ‘Congratulations, our Maxine. Many happy returns.’ She took her youngest sister’s hand and kissed her on the cheek before pointing to the large but beautifully wrapped parcel lying on the floor that had puzzled Maxine since their return. ‘That’s from Will and me.’
‘Am I supposed to open it now?’
‘Of course.’
She stooped down and fumbled with the wrapping, to reveal a portable gramophone. She gasped with genuine delight, stood up and kissed Will, thanking him profusely, then Henzey. ‘I never imagined…’
‘Consider yourself lucky,’ Henzey said good-humouredly. ‘I would have bought you a vacuum sweeper so you could help with the housework, but Will thought a gramophone might be more appropriate.’
When she’d unwrapped a gold watch, a leather writing case, a silver-plated photograph frame and an elaborately carved wooden music stand, Stephen stepped forward. Maxine was expecting an item of jewellery he’d designed. He handed her a small thin case that she guessed must contain a necklace of some sort and, when she opened it, saw that it was indeed a string of pearls with matching pearl earrings.
‘Thank you, Stephen,’ she said with obvious delight and kissed him on the cheek. ‘But you shouldn’t have done.’
‘I…er…I have this as well, Maxine,’ he said unsurely, and handed her a small cube, wrapped in fancy gilt paper.
She looked at it apprehensively. It could be a ring but she dearly hoped it was not. He’d already said he’d had an idea for a design. Warily she regarded him, hoping that she was wrong.
She said, ‘Thank you, Stephen. I think I’ll open this one later.’
‘No, you must open it now, Maxine,’ Henzey chided. ‘It would be very ungracious not to open it now.’
She was aware of somebody else saying, ‘Yes, you must,’ and she hesitated.
‘Please open it, Maxine,’ Stephen said softly, earnestness brimming from his eyes.
She looked at him again, a look that was a mix of compassion and admonishment, and fumbled as she tried to locate the join in the wrapping. Perhaps it was only a dress ring – nothing to get worked up about; or just another pair of earrings. She removed the wrapping paper, screwed it into a ball and gingerly opened the ivory coloured box. At once she shut it again, unsmiling. She was disappointed, angry and embarrassed simultaneously and Stephen was watching for her reaction, looking apprehensive.
After her initial silence, some pressed her to tell them what it was.
Stephen obliged them. ‘It’s a ring,’ he announced.
‘An engagement ring?’ somebody queried.
He shrugged, unsure of himself. He had intended it as such.
‘Congratulations, Maxine,’ her brother peeled. ‘You must be thrilled.’
She wanted to say I’m not thrilled at all, but she could not. She wanted to say that Stephen had got a real nerve trying to pull this off in front of all her family; that it was all a big misunderstanding and she was not engaged. But she could not utter a word. She could neither defend herself, nor leave Stephen open to embarrassment by an outright refusal. As her confusion mounted along with her uncertainty as to how she ought really to respond, the congratulations began to flow along with pats on the back, hugs, kisses and best wishes for their future happiness.
But significantly, not from her mother. Nor from Henzey.
And then, overwhelmed by it all, Maxine rushed out of the room trying to hide the tears that all at once were stinging her eyes. Lizzie watched anxiously, then followed Maxine upstairs to the bathroom.
She tapped tentatively on the door. ‘It’s me, Maxine. Let me in.’
But Stephen had also followed Lizzie. ‘Where is she? What’s the matter with her?’
‘Leave her to me, Stephen,’ Lizzie advised gently. ‘She seems a bit overcome. I’ll talk to her.’ So Lizzie tapped the door again. ‘Maxine, open the door.’
‘Is Stephen still there?’ a little voice queried. ‘I just heard him.’
‘He’s gone back downstairs.’
The door opened and Lizzie saw tears running down Maxine’s face. She joined her daughter inside and closed the door behind her. ‘What is it, my flower?’ She handed Maxine a clean handkerchief and put her arms around her.
‘Him. He’s such an idiot.’ Maxine mopped up her tears. ‘I could kill him. I could, really.’
‘Is it an engagement ring?’ Lizzie asked.
‘Yes, the damned fool…’ She sighed with exasperation, tears ebbing now. ‘Only last week he asked me to marry him and I told him I didn’t want to. I told him I wasn’t ready for marriage – that I didn’t love him.’ She dabbed her eyes again, sniffed and blew her nose. ‘I don’t love him, Mom and I haven’t asked for this. I haven’t said I’ve wanted to get engaged. I refused that as well when he mentioned it. I don’t want to be engaged.’
‘Then if you’ve already told him that, he’s very naughty to do this now. It’s as if he’s trying to railroad you into it. But it’s not the end of the world, our Maxine.’ Lizzie gave her a motherly hug. ‘Don’t let it spoil the night for everybody else. Say nothing for now and, if folk congratulate you, just thank them and smile graciously.’
‘I know…I don’t want to embarrass Stephen, Mom. He means well.’
‘Well this way you won’t. But later when you’re by yourselves, or tomorrow if you see him, you can talk it over with him quietly. Leave him in no doubt that you can’t accept it…Quick, though – let’s have a look at it before you give it him back.’
Mother and daughter grinned cannily at each other and Maxine opened again the small cube to show Lizzie the ring.
Lizzie gasped. ‘My God, it’s a great big amethyst…and in a cluster of diamonds. Oh, it’s beautiful, our Maxine. It must have cost him a fortune. Put it on and let’s see what it looks like…’ It fitted perfectly of course. ‘Oh, it’s absolutely beautiful.’
Maxine sighed. ‘What a pity…I can’t keep it, can I?…Should I keep it, do you think, Mom?’ She smiled, seduced by the magnificence of the ring adorning her long, slender finger. ‘I mean, it doesn’t mean I’m going to get married, does it?’
Lizzie gave her a knowing look. ‘You can’t have it both ways, my flower. Engagement is a serious betrothal – a binding promise to marry. If you don’t intend to marry the lad, you mustn’t accept his ring.’
‘But I think I’ll keep it on to show everybody. It is beautiful, isn’t it? He’s such a good designer.’
‘If you show it to everybody, they’ll take it as you’re engaged. Then they’ll want to know if you’ve named the day. You’d best make your mind up if that’s what you really want, our Maxine.’
Chapter 4 (#ueb32d124-c031-5f73-b1b4-3a552c7c2770)
After the party, Maxine accompanied Stephen when he drove Lizzie and Jesse back home to the dairy house where they lived in Dudley. The ride was distinguished by the stilted conversation. Jesse had already been discreetly advised that Maxine’s ‘engagement’ was not entirely in accordance with her wishes and this inhibited any mention of it; but now, all other topics seemed like laboured small talk. So it was with some relief that Maxine parted company with Lizzie that night, with of course, the customary kiss and mutual instructions to look after themselves.
On the way back to Ladywood, Maxine and Stephen remained unspeaking for some minutes, till Maxine decided this problem should be sorted out, and the sooner the better; and that she should get in the first thrust.
‘Why did you give me this ring, Stephen, when you knew perfectly well I didn’t want to get engaged?’ she began calmly. ‘It was so embarrassing. What did you expect me to do?’
‘It was a calculated risk,’ he answered honestly, avoiding her eyes by fixing his on the glinting tram lines that sometimes made the car veer one way then the other if the narrow tyres became tracked by them. ‘I risked my hand believing you wouldn’t make a fool of me by handing it back – not in full view of everybody, at any rate.’
‘Well you were right about that. But, Stephen, I can’t believe it. We only discussed all this a week ago. I told you then that I didn’t want to get engaged. Do we have to go through it all again? What do I have to say to make you understand?’
‘Oh, I do understand, Maxine,’ he replied, and stroked her knee affectionately with his left hand.
She didn’t like that but she tolerated it, as long as his hand did not presume to wander higher. Why did she not enjoy being touched by Stephen? And he wanted her to marry him and do all those disgusting things he’d mentioned?
‘So why did you do it?’ she pressed.
‘Because I want to make you my own. I thought that if you didn’t refuse it then, then you would have accepted it – full stop – in the eyes of everybody there. I thought you would have committed yourself by not refusing it. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?’
‘But it can’t work like that, Stephen. I have to agree to it. Don’t you see?’
‘I just thought you would. I just thought that giving you the ring openly, with everybody watching, would sort of…’
‘Coerce me?…I think that’s the word. But coercion won’t work with me, Stephen.’ She took the ring off her finger and slipped it into the top pocket of his jacket. ‘There. If you’re that keen on getting engaged offer it to somebody else.’
Stephen was angered by that. He stopped the car abruptly and switched off the engine.
