A Daughter’s Dream

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After lunch, Mary put some jazz records on the gramophone and we practised a new dance that had just come from America.

‘Did you know there’s a craze for marathon dancing out there?’ she said. ‘They just go on and on for hours at a time.’

‘Yes, I know. I read about a new record for the amount of hours danced in the paper. It’s absolutely mad, isn’t it?’

‘My father goes to America sometimes,’ Mary said. ‘I went with him once on a huge liner. It was quite exciting. They have some marvellous shops in New York, and the women have fabulous furs and jewels. Daddy says he may retire there one day. I hope he doesn’t make me go with him; I don’t think I would like it.’

‘Oh, my uncle has gone out there to live with his new wife. Why didn’t you like it, Mary?’

‘It was nice for a holiday but I prefer the country. We have a lovely house in Hampshire, much nicer than this. You must come and stay with me for the whole weekend, Amy. We could go down in one of Daddy’s cars and stay there – just you and me.’

‘Would your father allow that?’

‘Oh yes, he scarcely ever goes there himself. It was my mother’s house really, left her by her grandmother. She lived there most of the time after … after she couldn’t have more children.’

‘It sounds nice, Mary, but I would have to have time off. I usually work on Saturday mornings.’

‘Miss O’Rourke would let you off for once,’ Mary said. ‘Especially if you were working on dresses for me.’ She gave me a wicked smile. ‘I could order several if I wanted – and tell all my acquaintances where I bought them.’

‘That’s blackmail, Mary.’ I was both amused and shocked by this revelation of another side of her character.

‘Well, why not? I’m not above using a little persuasion if it gets me what I want. Other people do it all the time.’

I wondered what kind of people she knew, but didn’t comment. I wasn’t sure I liked this side of Mary. I preferred the shy, gentle girl she seemed to be most of the time. But there appeared to be two sides to her, and I thought she was probably more like her cousin than she knew or admitted.

‘Matthew is coming next Saturday, and there’s your own party on Friday …’

‘We’ll go the week after,’ she said. ‘You speak to Miss O’Rourke and I’ll ask her very nicely when I come in for my final fitting.’

Mary looked at me with such appeal in her eyes that I gave in, and one part of me was very willing to go along with all she said. Mary’s friendship was opening up a new way of life for me, and I wanted it to continue for a while.

Lainie took me to see Lillian Gish in her latest film and we both wept all the way through the second half.

‘She certainly is the queen of tragedy,’ Lainie said afterwards. ‘I don’t know why I enjoy films like that, they always make me cry.’

‘Perhaps we should have gone to see Charlie Chaplin,’ I said, teasing her. She didn’t answer and I saw that she had gone quite pale, her eyes concentrated in a fixed stare as she looked across the road to the theatre that was hosting a new musical starring Fred and Adele Astaire. People were coming out at the end of the show, and many of them looked wealthy and richly dressed.

‘What’s wrong, Lainie? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

She closed her eyes for a moment, then looked at me and gave a little shake of the head as if trying to dismiss her thoughts. ‘In a way I have – a ghost from the past. Just someone I thought I had forgotten, that’s all.’

I was concerned for her. ‘Do you feel unwell? You looked as if you might faint for a moment.’

‘It was a bit of a shock,’ Lainie admitted. ‘Shall we have a drink before we go home? There’s something I want to tell you, Amy.’

‘Yes, of course.’ I took her arm, steering her towards a rather attractive-looking public house. ‘You should sit down for a few minutes. Give yourself time to recover.’

We went into the bar and found a table. Lainie sat down while I fetched us a drink – a small brandy for my aunt and a lemonade for me. A few eyebrows were raised as I was served; it was still frowned upon by some for ladies to enter a public house without a male escort. I reminded myself that this was 1923 and ignored the implied criticism in their looks as I carried the drinks back to Lainie.

‘I should have done that,’ she said. ‘People were staring because you’re so young to be in a public bar without an escort, Amy.’

‘Let them.’ I was defiant. ‘At art college we often went out as a crowd of girls. We didn’t need a male escort.’

‘That was different,’ Lainie said and smiled. ‘You went to places where you were known. Somewhere like this … Well, we’d better finish our drinks and leave.’

‘When you’re feeling better.’

She drank her brandy and stood up. I had hardly touched my lemonade. I followed her, feeling slightly annoyed that we were being driven out by unwarranted prejudice.

‘I don’t see why we had to leave so soon.’

Lainie hailed a taxi. She didn’t speak until we were safely inside.

‘A pub like that – in the centre of Theatreland – you could be taken for something you’re not, Amy.’ She pulled a rueful face as she saw I didn’t understand. ‘A prostitute. No, don’t look so shocked. It happens. And that is why you were stared at.’

‘I don’t look like a tart!’

‘No, of course you don’t look like a streetwalker, but there are high-class call girls, Amy. They dress well, speak well, and sell themselves only to wealthy clients.’

‘But that’s horrible,’ I said and a little shiver went down my spine. ‘Just because I bought a drink, it doesn’t give people the right to think I’m like that!’

‘No, it doesn’t, but too often people jump to conclusions. Or maybe it was just me … seeing …’ Lainie broke off. ‘Forget it, Amy. I shouldn’t have suggested having a drink. Let’s change the subject. I wanted to tell you that I have a friend coming to stay – not this weekend but next.’

‘That’s when Mary wants me to go down to the country with her.’

‘Yes, I know. It will suit me if you go, Amy. My friend will use your room. You won’t mind, will you?’

‘No, of course not.’ I looked at her curiously. ‘Is this the first time she has stayed with you?’

‘For a while.’ There was a faint blush in her cheeks. ‘Harold lives in the country. We met three years ago. He asked me to marry him last year but I said I wasn’t ready to think about it yet. He hasn’t visited me since.’

‘I expect he was disappointed.’

‘Yes, he was very upset.’ Lainie wrinkled her forehead in thought. ‘I am fond of him, Amy. Harold Brompton is a good man – a nice man. If he lived in town I think I might have said yes, but I can’t see myself being happy in the country for long. I should be bored within a month.’

‘There’s so much going on here,’ I agreed. ‘Cinemas, theatres, shops – and your business, Lainie. You wouldn’t want to give that up.’

‘Harold thinks I could have a shop in Cambridge. There’s a good train service from where he lives, and he says he will teach me to drive a car. I suppose it might be a good idea.’

‘He sounds nice. I should like to meet him.’

‘Perhaps another time …’ Lainie looked oddly nervous. ‘Harold has something important to tell me – not about us getting married, something else.’

I looked at her curiously but she shook her head.

‘I’m not sure yet, Amy. I may have some news for you – and Bridget. Bridget will want to hear it if this turns out well. It was because of her that I started this and the reason I met Harold …’ She laughed as she saw my expression. ‘Yes, I know I’m being mysterious, but I really can’t tell you more just yet, Amy. I don’t know myself. Harold just said it was important.’

‘You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,’ I said and smiled at her. ‘And thank you for letting me go to stay with Mary next weekend. You do realize it means I won’t be able to work on Saturday?’

‘Yes, of course. I don’t mind that. You’ve worked hard since you’ve been with me, Amy. You deserve a bit of fun. You ought just to ask your parents if they agree, of course – but as far as I am concerned, it’s fine with me.’

‘I’ll let Mum know I’m going to Mary’s for the weekend,’ I promised. ‘But I know she won’t mind. She knows I’m not going to do anything silly.’

‘Of course you won’t,’ Lainie said. ‘You’re a sensible girl, Amy – and Mary is decent and looks like becoming a good customer, thanks to you. If you hadn’t designed that first dress for her, I doubt we should have seen her again. You are an asset to the business and you deserve your fun.’

Four (#ulink_eee72cb2-5d5d-57a4-8666-4b5394930b12)

I was nervous of attending Mary’s party. I wasn’t sure my best dress would be smart enough, even though Lainie told me I looked very pretty.

‘Don’t let them upset you,’ she told me. ‘Keep your head up and keep smiling whatever they say. Remember you are as good as any of them, even if you do work in a shop.’

As I was driven in a taxi to Mary’s house that evening I had an attack of nerves and wondered what on earth I was doing. I must have been mad to agree. I didn’t belong in this world and I could only blame myself if Mary’ s friends looked down their noses at me.

There was music playing loudly as I rang the front doorbell and I guessed that the party was being held on the back lawn. However, I wasn’t prepared for the huge marquee outside or the board laid on the grass for dancing. There were at least fifty people standing around talking and more couples dancing. All of them looked wealthy and well dressed, their jewels flashing like fireflies in the light of the lanterns strung from the trees.

I noticed that several of the ladies were wearing dresses with an Egyptian inspiration. Vionnet had brought out some wonderful designs after the opening of Tutankhamen’s tomb the previous year and I could see that they were still popular. It was not a fashion I particularly admired, preferring the simpler styles of Poiret.

‘I didn’t invite half of these people,’ Mary whispered as she greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. ‘Most of them are Aunt Emily’s friends – or my father’s.’

‘I thought it was your party?’

‘So did I,’ she said and pulled a wry face. ‘This isn’t what I wanted, believe me. Apart from you, there’s only Jane Adams and Millicent Fairchild that I like. Come and meet them. They are just like you and me, Amy. Most of the others are awful snobs.’

I was pleased to discover that both Jane and Millie were pleasant and very like some of the girls I’d known at art college. We talked about the clothes we liked, music and art, and then Jane was approached by a young man who asked her to dance. Moments later, Mary and then Millie were claimed by partners.

I stood awkwardly for a few minutes wondering what to do. Not having met any of the other guests, I was uncomfortable. I knew there was a buffet in the conservatory and was considering whether I should go and find something to eat when someone spoke to me.

‘It was thoughtless of Mary to leave you alone, Amy.’

Turning, I saw Paul Ross and smiled.

‘Hello. I didn’t know you were coming this evening.’

‘Mary begged me to. I don’t like these things much, because I’m not very good at dancing these days. I might manage a slow waltz – if you would like to dance?’

‘Don’t if you would rather not,’ I said and blushed because he was being kind to me.

‘Oh, I can manage a couple during the evening.’

Paul took me out on to the floor, placing his hand lightly at my waist. I let myself move with the music, following Paul’s lead. He was a good dancer and after my initial hesitation I was soon enjoying myself.

When the music ceased he led me back to Mary, but when the band started to play one of the modern dances that was taking the country by storm, he shook his head.

‘Perhaps later,’ he told Mary when she invited him to dance with her. He walked towards the house and disappeared inside.

I was anxious in case all the girls would be asked to dance and leave me on my own again. However, the young man who had danced with Mary introduced himself as Alan Bell and asked if I would like to try.

I looked at him shyly. ‘I haven’t done this one before, but I wouldn’t mind having a go.’

‘It’s great fun.’ Alan smiled his approval. ‘We all look silly so it doesn’t matter if you make a mistake, no one will notice.’

The dance called the Charleston involved a lot of rather peculiar steps, arm waving and leg crossing, and it was gradually becoming all the rage at private parties after a film featuring it had been shown in America earlier that year. It was yet to be accepted by everyone, but it was a lot of fun – and so was the evening for me, after my initial awkwardness. Mary’s friends rallied round me and the only dances I sat out were when I was eating some of the delicious food the caterer’s had provided. More than an hour passed before I at last met my host. Looking rather sheepish, Mary brought him up to me as I was sipping a glass of cool lemonade, momentarily alone.

‘Daddy wanted to meet you, Amy.’

‘My daughter has rather unfortunate manners at times, Miss Robinson,’ he said and smiled at me. ‘It would have been nice had she introduced you at the start, but better late than never.’

‘It’s nice to meet you, sir,’ I said looking at him rather uncertainly.

‘Maitland – Philip Maitland,’ he said, offering his hand. ‘I believe you have designed a rather lovely gown for my daughter. How clever you must be.’

His smile was charming; his manner seemed warm and friendly – a perfect gentleman. I had expected Mary’s father to be a bit of an ogre and I wondered at the faint hostility I glimpsed in her eyes.

Why didn’t Mary like her father? She seemed nervous, almost frightened of him, and yet he appeared to be a kind, generous and indulgent father.

‘Amy is going to be a famous designer one day,’ she said. ‘I’m lucky to be her first client. Now go away and talk to your own friends, Daddy. Amy and I want to have fun.’