Dear Laura, I will call you again in five minutes. Please be by the phone. I really need to talk to you. Christian.
Charles’s facial features shrivelled and hardened with spite. With bare, gritted teeth, he scrunched up the note, shoving it deep into his pocket. This is when Laura’s voice echoed from inside. She had just finished changing and said he could come in.
His face took on an expression of sheer innocence, and he opened the door calmly, looking as benevolent as a saint. “I do apologise, dear Laura, but I must dash to the phone at once. I have just got a message from a business associate of my father’s. I’m afraid it’s urgent, dear! See you afterwards, if that’s all right?”
“Of course,” she replied, none the wiser.
Charles knew where the payphone was. He paced quickly towards the foyer, having no time to waste. It was by the coffeehouse that was at the time swarming with customers. Arriving at the phone booth, he thanked his luck when the same girl passed him by.
“Miss?” he said urgently.
“Yes, sir?”
“I have given Miss Mayfield the message, and she has asked me to take the call for her. I’m afraid it’s a sensitive matter and quite personal, so I kindly ask for your discretion.”
She nodded eagerly. “Yes of course, sir!”
“As this matter’s very upsetting to her, I would greatly appreciate it as well if you weren’t to mention this call to her at all. If there are any more phone calls from this man while we’re here, please let me know.” He gave her another stern look to accentuate the severity of his request and reached in his pocket for his wallet. With a theatrical gesture that conveyed sheer arrogance, he took a banknote out.
“For your discretion,” he said, as he offered it to her with flourish. It was a one-pound note—quite a handsome reward for mere silence.
“Oh no, I couldn’t, sir!” she answered, looking appalled at the very thought of taking his money. “But don’t worry, I’ll do as you ask.”
When she left, he leaned against the wall by the phone, willing the seconds to pass. Vexed, he rubbed at his temples. What does this imbecile want from her again? Could it be a real emergency? Perhaps her mother fell ill? When the phone finally rang, he didn’t hurry to pick it up but instead let it ring a couple of times before answering.
“Hello?” he said in a formal voice.
“Hello! My name is Christian Searle. I’d like to speak to Miss Mayfield please.” His voice didn’t betray his inner thoughts. He felt deflated that Laura hadn’t answered the phone as he had hoped.
“May I ask what this is in relation to?”
“It’s a private call. I just need to speak to her. I left a message for her five minutes ago.”
“I’m afraid she’s in her dressing room right now,” said Charles non-committally.
“Could you get her for me please? It’s rather important!”
“Look, sir, unless it’s an emergency, I’m afraid I can't interrupt her at the moment.”
“It’s not an emergency, but I do need to speak to her all the same!”
“She’s with her fiancé in there, sir! I cannot possibly interrupt…” Charles added the pregnant pause purposefully. It insinuated things that give reign to the imagination of men. It caused unspoken words to come to mind and hang in the air between them.
“Her fiancé? She’s got engaged? To whom?”
“To his lordship; The Viscount Willard of course! Now forgive me, sir, but I’m afraid I must get back to work. We’re busy around here!”
“What… I…” mumbled Christian.
A sardonic smile spread across Charles’s face. His eyes twinkled with glee and the sheer pleasure of his effortless triumph over a pathetic adversary. “Well, goodnight to you, sir!” With a loud bang, Charles slammed the phone down without waiting for a response.
Chapter 33
The luxurious car rolled smoothly down the highway. Sitting comfortably in the back, Charles and Laura conversed with the ease of well-acquainted friends while their chauffeur James negotiated expertly the sparse traffic along the country roads. They didn’t even care where they were, as they glanced every now and then absentmindedly out of the windows. It had been quite a while since they left the bustle of London behind, having taken countless turns on their journey south since then. Soon, they would be arriving in Brighton.
The week in London had passed really quickly. It had been a magical whirlwind with Laura’s triumph at its very centre. It had left them both with precious and joyful memories. Although Charles was supposed to spend only a couple of days in the city for his father’s errands and then return to Lakeview Castle, he’d stayed at the Dorchester the whole week.
Charles had been asking Laura daily to have dinner with him, so she’d had to decline politely more than once. She’d joined Ian and others from the show for a pub dinner on a couple of nights, to try to stop Charles from getting the wrong idea. To her bemusement, though, he hadn’t seemed to get swayed in the least. By now she dreaded that soon, he would wind up asking her for something she couldn’t offer, and then she’d have to hurt his feelings. She wasn’t looking forward to it. Other than that, she still enjoyed his friendship. He was an interesting man of impeccable manners, who fascinated and amused her with his inexhaustible supply of stories and anecdotes.
When the car pulled to a stop outside Laura’s house, Charles hurried to get out first and open the door for her, getting there even before James did.
“Thank you, Charles,” she said when he offered his hand to help her out of the car. James took her luggage and opened the gate, then headed for the front door on his own to give the others privacy.
“It’s been such a pleasure, Laura! London has never been more charming, seeing that you were there,” he said, moving to give her a goodbye kiss on the cheek. By now he knew better than try to kiss her lips again although he had certainly not thrown in the sponge yet.
“Thank you for the compliment. I’ve had such a splendid time! And it’s been most kind of you to give me a ride in the car.”
Charles pulled a face of sheer disdain. “Oh I couldn’t let you travel in one of those awful trains, Laura! You’re too precious for public transport, my dear.” Sneering at the very thought, he brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead in a debonair gesture.
Secretly, he entertained different thoughts about public trains, of course. They weren’t that bad if you travelled first class. The real reason for picking her up in the car to get her home himself was that he didn’t want her spending any more time with the men from the company. They’d all made their way back to Brighton by train that same day, and he wasn’t having Laura travel with them. He had his eye on Ian in particular by now, not at all impressed by the time he spent with Laura. He was also wondering if it was worth getting Harold to follow him around for a few days.
“Well, anyway, many thanks again for everything, Charles,” she said, her face beaming.
“I will give you a call at the Society in the week.” He knew she was starting singing and acting lessons there soon, in preparation for the next show.
“Looking forward to it,” she answered breezily.
“How about I take you out for a swim next time we meet?”
“Great idea! I’ve missed diving off the Pier.”
Charles knitted his brows, a look of haughty contempt in his eyes. “The Pier? What a ghastly notion!”
“But why not?”
“Diving off the Pier is for the commoners, Laura! They come to Brighton in droves from all over the country. Hardly a crowd fit for me to associate with!”
“Oh, I see,” she replied, trying to hide her bemusement, both from her voice and face. His scornful manner had put her off. She spared a thought for her initial impression of him, that night at her dressing room. Damn my instinct! Always right!
“So where do you swim?” she asked, genuinely out of curiosity.
He tipped his chin. “I go to the swimming pool, of cour
se.”
“Oh! Black Rock, is it? I heard it’s nice. Haven’t been yet, mind you.”
“Black Rock? Perish the thought! It’s municipal, Laura! I meant the Saltdean Lido! It’s simply marvellous. Private, new and very stylish.” He waved a hand with flourish.
“Oh, I didn’t know that one,” she replied, and that caused her no embarrassment. As knowledgeable as he was, she no longer felt inferior by comparison. She took another look at him with new eyes now and found he had nothing she deemed admirable. If anything, she felt annoyed by the way he’d turned up his nose at the notion of public swimming off her beloved West Pier.
“Never mind! I’ll take you there. Trust me, you won't be interested in swimming in the sea amongst that awful Pier crowd again, once you’ve been at Saltdean!”
Laura felt indignation rising in her throat, but she swallowed it back down. “Right. See you soon then,” she said, turning away to walk up to the front door where James still waited with her luggage.
He rang the doorbell for her, and Ruth came out squealing and yelling, enthused to see her daughter again. Having spoken to her on the phone a few times during her absence, Ruth knew the show had been a huge success. She was so proud and full of anticipation that she hadn’t slept a wink the night before.
“Mum, this is James,” Laura pointed to the chauffeur standing before them. Ruth gave him a lukewarm smile and a hurried handshake. She mumbled a greeting without much regard for his response and then turned with evident anticipation to glance at the man who was still standing in the distance by the gate.
“And this is Lord Willard,” said Laura as she strode with her mother down the path to where Charles stood with a pleasant smile under his perfectly trimmed moustache. His stature spoke volumes for his confidence as the women approached.
“Oh, how wonderful to meet you at last, my lord!” exclaimed Ruth, her eyes alight like two pieces of burning coal. “I’ve heard so much about you, Your Lordship!” she added taking his hand hostage in hers for a prolonged, enthusiastic handshake.
“Delighted, Mrs Mayfield! It is such a pleasure to meet you, too. Congratulations for your truly talented daughter. And now I know where she got her looks from,” he added with a sickly little smirk, the kind that exposes flattery unmistakably for what it is, but to Ruth, any sign of that was lost. She was too busy noticing his stylish attire, not to mention the luxurious car behind him. What’s more, his flattery caused her to have a giggling fit.
“And how is Earl Fenshaw, if I may ask?” she enquired with a ridiculous little bow, once she recovered somewhat. “And her ladyship?” she went on, her cheeks ablaze with excitement.
“They’re fine, thank you. Perhaps you would like to come with Laura on a Sunday and visit Lakeview Castle? It would be a pleasure to show you around, and you could meet both my parents.”
“Oh, I’d absolutely love to!” came the shrill-voiced response from Ruth.
Laura felt uncomfortable to witness their conversation. It seemed to her that her mother’s secret ambitions were perfectly transparent to the world, seeing how tiny an effort she put in to conceal them like most people do.
“Mother, perhaps we should let Charles and James go now. It’s been a long journey.”
Ruth brought a hand to her mouth. “Of course. Oh, I do apologise for my blabbing!”
“It is quite all right. Once again, it’s been a pleasure,” said Charles with a little bow.
James was in the car by then and when Charles took a seat in the back, the car moved away at once, leaving behind mother and daughter, who stood at the roadside, watching it cruise down their road.
The Rolls looked quite out of place there. It was a sight that made both women stare with wonder.
For Laura, the car was one of many things that had manifested into her new stylish and luxurious life, and the effect still left her unbelieving.
For Ruth, the sight of that car had just brought on a decisive moment. As she watched it move away, she imagined her daughter sitting in the back in a white wedding gown next to that impeccably dressed aristocrat. As she stood outside her humble home, clothed in a shabby old dress and her heavily stained pinafore, she swore secretly to herself that she would do anything in her power to make it happen one day.
Chapter 34
1987
The wake up call from Mrs Lopi’s cockerel came earlier than usual. Sofia’s eyes gave a quick flutter and then she was awake. Unwilling to move, as if stillness might sink her back into sleep, she pondered upon this new day with dismay. Today she felt reluctant to wake to the present, to let go of the blissful limbo and indulgence of sleep.
When she finally stirred, her body felt heavy. It didn’t make sense at first, then she remembered the Greek saying that the sea takes it out of you. With a wry smile, she thought it was a fair price to pay for her blissful boat trip the previous day. But it wasn’t just that of course; there was also that cursed dread inside her.
She sat up on the divan bed and gave a deep sigh. The uneasy feeling started to rise maliciously, ominously, like a coiled snake about to strike lethally at her insides, putting a cruel end to her happiness. And just as predicted, so it did. When she looked up to face the window, her eyes were pooled with tears. This was going to be her last day with Danny. Inside her sinking heart, it felt as irrevocable as a death sentence.
Desperately, she searched her mind for a happy thought. It was something she liked to do on bad days, when she would wake up disheartened by a problem or a difficulty in her life. She had long made a pact with herself not to get up from bed on such mornings, unless she could first conjure up in her mind somehow, a perfectly happy thought, to replace the doom and gloom of whatever bothered her.
Her first idea was to feel grateful she had met Danny at all, to share so many laughs with and to find out how perfect life can be; how it feels to be in the moment without worry or guilt. But soon enough, she recalled something else too that really brightened her spirits.
The previous evening, she’d come home heavy-hearted but with a big smile, eager to conceal her emotions from her grandparents. To her surprise, she’d found that Dora and Nana were once again visiting next door. She’d told her cousins all about Danny and they’d made arrangements for an evening walk so that Sofia could spend some time alone with him. All Sofia needed to do now is discuss the details with Danny and set the time.
Sofia shook her head. Why so many lies? Why is so much secrecy necessary for something so innocent? Boy meets girl, and they fall in love. It’s as natural as the earth turning and as strong and inevitable as the tide. What’s the point in resisting it or covering it up?
She sat up on the bed, and an image flashed in her mind. As she frowned at the floor tiles, scattered memories from a dream came back in flashes.
It was odd. Last night, she dreamt that she was standing at the head of the pier, down at the beach where she worked. But then, the pier started to expand, further and further into the sea, while a disorienting fog began to fall upon her. Next thing she knew, the pier she was standing on was another one altogether. It was huge in size; with majestic buildings on it, and it resembled the West Pier in Brighton just as she and Danny had seen it in the magazine.
However, that wasn’t the strangest thing about the dream. The woman that was supposed to be Sofia in it seemed quite different to her. She stood on the pier under torrential rain, in a long, black dress that flowed in a fierce wind. Huge waves crashed ferociously against the piles underneath. Murky, foaming seawater, mixed with seaweed, rose up from the wash in sharp tongues, threatening to take the woman down to the depths with them. Yet, the woman stood there, alone in the mighty elements, completely unafraid.
She had red hair like Sofia, but hers had long, bouncy curls. Her face was the same, albeit gaunt, and her green eyes sparkled with tears. She held her hands open wide, as if waiting to embrace someone, yet no one came. A wistful melody and faint singing could be heard, as the woman called out to someone. Her exp
ression was remorseful and pleading, her arms stretched out in front of her, or pounding at her chest.
Sofia couldn’t remember a single word the strange woman said, but she felt her pain as her own. She recalled waking up in the middle of the night with the memory of the dream still fresh in her mind. It was quite disturbing at the time. In the light of day, it had faded significantly. Yet, the feeling of sadness that it stirred in her remained just as strong. It blended in her heart now, with her own sadness over Danny’s imminent departure.
Trying to shake this feeling off, Sofia stretched like a cat, then finally got out of bed. A glance at the wall clock confirmed she was running late. As she got the butter and jam from the fridge to make breakfast, she chuckled at the oddity of the dream. Fancy feeling distraught in Brighton! If only I could be there, I’d be the happiest girl in the world, for that is where Danny is headed!
***
“Special treat tonight!” said Danny in the late afternoon when he joined Sofia at the pier base. Wearing his brightest smile, he sat by her, dipping his feet in the water.
Sofia’s face lit up despite her heavy heart. He had brought a whole cheese pastry for the sparrows. She mirrored his mirthful expression and felt her heart lifting.
All morning, he’d stayed away from the pier, eager to protect Sofia’s good name, except that by then, she really didn’t care. If it hadn’t been so busy, she would have gladly left the pier to be with the boys for as long as she could. She and Loula had managed to have a good chinwag with them around the bar at midday. The rest of the time, Danny had kept blowing her kisses from a distance, or smiling at her mischievously from under the wide brim of his hat.
“You haven’t touched it!” said Sofia, pointing to the pastry.
“I’ve had mine. Bought this one especially for the kids. Last supper and all that…” he trailed off, whispering the last words feebly like a wind-up toy that had just run down. He cut the pastry in half and offered Sofia her share.
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