There were long mirrors on the walls at each side of the fireplace, and now, her legs feeling like jelly, Nancy Ann made her way towards the one furthest from the ladies at the dressing tables, and there, looking at herself, she thought, It’s gone plain all of a sudden. She felt dowdy, out of place. She put her hand to her hair and pushed the curls here and there, all for something to do rather than with the intention of altering their position, then opened her vanity bag and took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her lips with it. And as she did so, there came to her the muttered voice of one of the ladies, saying, ‘Never! Never!’ And the other answering, ‘Yes I tell you, yes.’ There was a pause, then as Nancy Ann adjusted her sash one of the women spoke again, saying, ‘That’s why the Crosbies or the Grahams aren’t here.’
‘Nor the Taylors, nor you know who.’
‘Oh, she’s still away; he was sent to Holland.’
‘But this, I…I can’t believe it.’
‘You can believe it.’
Nancy Ann could see in the mirror that they were both on their feet now. She also saw that they had turned and were surveying her, the while pretending to adjust their dresses.
The last words she heard one of them utter as they left the room were, ‘He’s got a nerve. There’ll be hell to pay.’ She didn’t know whom they were talking about but she guessed they were pulling someone to shreds, and swearing at that, and they ladies.
The woman at the other mirror now turned around and amazed her with her next words: ‘Don’t worry,’ she said; ‘they’re a couple of bitches. You’ll be all right.’ And at this she went out abruptly.
Nancy Ann stood with her hand held tightly against one cheek. Those ladies, they must have been in some way referring to her, but she couldn’t even recall at the moment what they had said, only that it sounded spiteful. Of a sudden she wished she had never come, she wished she was home.
The door opened and there was the tall servant again, and the woman stared at her for some seconds before she said, ‘Are you ready, miss?’
‘Yes. Yes, thank you.’
She was surprised at the calm sound of her own voice. And she was further surprised that she could keep her shoulders back and her head up as she walked past the woman and into the corridor. It was, she told herself, as if she were preparing herself for a row, as she used to do years ago when any of the McLoughlins approached her. But it came to her now that this wasn’t just a row she was facing, but a sort of covert battle. But why? Why? She was bewildered. Was it because Mr Harpcore had shown kindness to her mother and the family? A parson’s family, she knew, was considered lowly compared to those in this house.
As she entered the hall she was surprised to see Peter standing talking to the woman who had been sitting at the other mirror. He was laughing and she was wagging her finger at him. Then she saw Mr Harpcore hurrying across the floor from the far side and before he reached them, he cried, ‘Don’t believe a word she says, Mr Hazel. She’s a wicked woman.’
‘Ah, there you are.’ He turned his gaze on Nancy Ann and held it for some moments; then he put his hand out towards her while at the same time looking at the overdressed middle-aged woman, saying, ‘Pat, this is Miss Nancy Hazel, and this—’ he now indicated the woman, saying, ‘is Lady Patricia Golding.’
‘How do you do?’ Nancy Ann inclined her head and hesitated whether to dip her knee or not. Then Dennison said, ‘Well, let us join the others.’
He now put his hand on Nancy Ann’s elbow and led her across the hall and into a small anteroom, and from there into a ballroom, and such was the sight before her that she hesitated in her step, and he looked at her and she turned a quick glance on him, but didn’t speak.
There was a dance in progress which she recognised as the Sir Roger de Coverley, and it was causing hoots of laughter. The dancers clapped as the end partners met in the middle of the two rows, swung round and danced away again. The orchestra, she could see, was on a raised balcony at the end of the room. There were couches and velvet seats arranged against the walls. And now, she was being led along between the seats and the dancers to the top of the room.
When she was seated on a single chair Dennison indicated the one next to her for Lady Golding, but she waved it away and, pointing to the couch to the right of Nancy Ann, she said, ‘I like to spread myself. You should know that. Anyway, your seats are not big enough to take me.’
He laughed as he watched her seat herself on the couch and spread her russet-coloured gown to each side of her.
Peter had taken a stand to the side of Nancy Ann’s chair, and he was gazing about him in as much wonderment as she, only his was more concealed.
‘You told me you liked dancing.’ Dennison was bending towards her. ‘What is your favourite dance?’
She smiled up into his face, saying, ‘I like the waltz.’
‘Then waltz we shall.’ He now bowed to her, then to Lady Golding, before threading his way towards the orchestra who had just finished playing. The dancers were dispersing and not a few of them cast their glances in Nancy Ann’s direction. And one lady, preparing to take her seat further along the row, changed her mind, and came up to them and, addressing Lady Golding, said, ‘Hello, my dear. I didn’t expect to see you tonight. I understood you were going up to town to meet George.’
‘Did you, Grace? Now who could have told you that? Because the last thing I heard from George was that he was chasing another bug in Africa. Well, I don’t know if it was a bug or a rebel chief, but anyway I’ll be lucky if I and the family see him before the end of March. Now who could have misinformed you to such an extent, Grace?’
‘Oh, it was just…well, Alice happened to mention.’
‘Oh, Alice. Well, you should know by now, Grace, Alice doesn’t know whether she’s coming or going. She doesn’t know if tomorrow is Pancake Tuesday or Whistle Cock Monday.’ A choking sound to her side caused Lady Golding to turn and glance at Nancy Ann, whose eyes were bright and whose fingertips were pressing her lips. Then looking at the woman again, she said, ‘I am sure you would like to meet Miss Hazel. Miss Hazel, Mrs Grace Blenheim.’ Then waving her hand towards Peter, she added, ‘Mr Peter Hazel.’ And as the lady now returned Peter’s bow by slightly inclining her head, Lady Golding said, ‘Happy now, Grace?’
‘Oh, Pat.’ The embarrassed woman turned away, her taffeta rustling as if with indignation.
Dennison, standing before them once more, was about to speak to Nancy Ann when Lady Golding said, ‘I had a visit from Grace.’
‘Oh, Grace.’ As they smiled at each other the band struck up, and Dennison, bending towards Nancy Ann, said, ‘May I have the pleasure?’
She rose, took the vanity bag from her wrist and placed it on the seat behind her, then extended her arms, placing the right one tentatively on his shoulder, and the tips of the fingers of her left hand in his palm. She felt his arm go round her waist and then she was swung into the waltz.
For the past few days she had been practising with Peter, but this was different. Her feet hardly seemed to touch the floor. This wasn’t just one-two-three, one-two-three; she seemed to be lifted into the flow of the music. She smiled at him and he smiled back at her, and as they reached the end of the room she became aware for the first time that they had the floor to themselves. It wasn’t until they had circled the room once that other couples joined them.
He was speaking to her, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. And so she said, ‘What?’ when she should have said, ‘Pardon?’
His face came close to hers: ‘You dance beautifully.’
‘You do too.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Different from Peter.’
‘Different from Peter,’ he repeated on a laugh.
And now, her mouth wide, she laughed back at him, saying, ‘We’ve been practising.’ And she laughed louder now. She was no longer aware of the couples passing them or twirling round them; she was feeling happy in a most strange kind of way. This was what was mean
t by being at a ball, this being held in someone’s arms and floating around and around and around.
When the music stopped she opened her eyes. She hadn’t known she had had them closed during the last few minutes. And as he led her back to her seat she said, ‘That was lovely,’ then bit on her lip and, glancing at him, her voice low, muttered, ‘That was the wrong thing to say, wasn’t it? My time at the Dame school was wasted.’
His laughter drew eyes towards him, and when she had taken her seat, he bent over her and said, ‘That was lovely, Miss Hazel.’ And at this she suppressed her laughter. Then he said, ‘Excuse me, I will be back shortly.’ She watched him go and talk to a group of people standing in the middle of the room; then her gaze was brought from him by Lady Golding saying, ‘You enjoyed that?’
‘Yes, my lady. He dances beautifully, very light.’
‘Yes, yes, he dances beautifully. And by the way, so do I.’ She had now turned to Peter who was sitting to her right on the couch, adding, ‘I may not look it, but I am very light on my feet, so what about you asking me for the next dance, young man? Or let us say the one after that, for the next is sure to be a polka and perhaps you’ll be taking your sister.’
‘My sister I see every day, ma’am, she causes me no excitement…I should consider it an honour to partner you in the polka, ma’am.’
Her fan now came none too gently across Peter’s knuckles as she murmured, ‘You may have been brought up in a vicarage, young man, but you are all there. I have gathered that much. As for you, young lady—’ she turned now towards Nancy Ann and demanded, ‘what do you think of this set-up?’
‘You mean the ballroom?’
‘I mean all of it: the extravaganza, the people, the servants you trip over everywhere.’
Nancy Ann stared into the heavily powdered face before she said, and unsmiling now, ‘This is my first visit here. I cannot give you my opinion of the people or the servants, only that from what I have seen of it, it seems a very beautiful house.’
‘Ha! Ha! Ha!’ The curled dyed hair bobbed backwards and forwards. ‘Couldn’t have been better said. From whom did you learn diplomacy, girl? Certainly not from your father. I’ve heard him preach once or twice and it’s a wonder his frankness didn’t empty the church. How old are you really?’
Nancy Ann didn’t know quite how to take this person: she wasn’t her idea of a Lady, yet she had a title. Ladies, she imagined, didn’t talk like her, nor did they put their finger in their ear and wag it about as she was doing now.
‘Well, is it a secret?’
‘No, my lady, it is no secret. I shall be seventeen years old in a fortnight’s time.’
‘Seventeen. I was married when I was seventeen and one week. I had three children before I was twenty and that number had swollen to eight before I was thirty. What would have happened if George, that’s my husband, hadn’t decided to go and look for his bugs abroad, God alone knows. I wouldn’t have been still light on my feet.’ The fan came once again across Peter’s hands startling him now, but he laughed and looked across this amazing lady, as he thought of her, towards Nancy Ann. But there was no smile on her face and Lady Golding, noticing this, leant towards her and in a soft voice said, ‘You think I’m a queer old bird, don’t you? I’m not really. But what I will tell you is, I am a friend of Dennison’s, and he’s a good chap at heart.’ Then raising her voice slightly, she said, ‘And speaking of queer birds, wait till you meet Beatrice…Beatrice Boswell, his cousin…or half, whichever, with her entourage of dolls. Now there is a funny one. She’s got the sniffles at present and is wrapped up to the eyes in her room, or perhaps she is having her daily bath. She has one every day, you know.’ She now turned towards Peter, saying, ‘A bath every day! Have you ever heard of it; it’s enough to weaken a rhinoceros, that. But then she is a bit of a rhinoceros. Ah!’ She bent forward and looked down the room to where a servant was standing in green, knee-breeched livery, white stockings and black shoes, and she exclaimed, ‘Controller of the menagerie.’ And without pause, and now slanting her eyes towards Nancy Ann, she went on, ‘I’m only putting you in the picture, dear.’
In some bewilderment Nancy Ann’s eyes were brought from the woman to the servant who was now saying, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, dinner is served.’
There followed a slow rising from seats; and when the master of the house approached them, he did not stand before Nancy Ann but before Lady Golding, and it was to her he offered his arm, saying at the same time to Peter, ‘You’ll take your sister in, Peter, will you, please?’
As he went to move away with Lady Golding on his arm, that strange lady muttered in an aside to Nancy Ann, ‘Keep close.’
Nancy Ann stood up, and when Peter drew her hand through his arm she looked at him in slight apprehension, and he smiled at her and, bending his head towards her, whispered, ‘’Tis as good as a play, enjoy it. Come on, into battle. Remember the McLoughlins.’
It was odd he should say that when only a short while ago she had been thinking about them. So she smiled.
The tables were set in the shape of an open-ended square. The master of the house was seated at the middle place of the upper table. Lady Golding was seated immediately to his right, and next to her was Peter. The gentleman to her own right hand was apparently called Oswald, for as such he was being addressed by the lady sitting opposite to him on the inner side of the top table. There was a great deal of cross talk and chatter and every now and again, Lady Golding would lean in front of Peter and address some remark to her.
The food was of such variety that she could not eat half that was put on her plate. And by the time they came to the puddings, she politely put her hand up to wave them away, which she thought was a shame because she loved puddings.
And then there was the wine. There were four glasses before her and only one had been filled, and that was only half full now, and she wouldn’t have touched it again only that Peter, nudging her slightly, said, ‘Sip on it, it’s very nice. It will do you no harm.’ So she sipped on it until the glass was empty; and strangely it made her feel nice.
She noticed with some amazement that Peter ate everything put before him and drank all the different wines. Of course, she told herself, Peter had been out in the world; and yet he couldn’t have experienced anything like this kind of life. But he had spoken of the grand dinners they sometimes had at Oxford, so perhaps this wasn’t so strange to him after all.
She was feeling very hot: she wished she could get out into the air, even freezing as it was; the room was stifling and the noise and the chatter were incessant. How long had she…had they all been sitting here? Oh, more than an hour, nearer two. They couldn’t possibly dance again immediately after such a meal …
They didn’t dance immediately after the meal. The ladies adjourned, some to the drawing room, some to the powder room. It was as she rose from the table that Lady Golding said under her breath, ‘Stay by me.’ And so, she stayed by her and found herself once again entering the powder room.
Inside, Lady Golding, wending her way towards the closets, took her arm and said, ‘Wait there,’ then pushed unceremoniously past two ladies who themselves were waiting to enter a cubicle and who showed their annoyance at such high-handed treatment, and it was a natural reaction for them to look fully at Nancy Ann.
She stared back at them for she was becoming a little tired of the covert scrutiny that had been levelled at her during the evening, thinking as her grandmother might, with the aid of the wine, Who are they anyway? Most of them certainly didn’t act like her idea of gentry.
There was loud laughter coming from the direction of one of the dressing tables and a high voice exclaimed above the buzz, ‘In future, it’ll be grace before meals. If Johnny had been here tonight he would have stood up and given it to us: For what we are about to receive may the devil and the vicarage take the hindmost.’
Suddenly it became clear to her: it was because she was from the vicarage they were looking down on her; and, too, we
re jealous because Mr Harpcore had danced with her. But then a strange thought came into her head, it was more of a muzzy feeling than a thought, but it centred around why her mother had raised no objection to her coming here tonight. And why Lady Golding had taken her under her wing. Whatever it was, her reaction must have astonished everyone in the room: as the door of the closet opened and Lady Golding emerged, Nancy Ann turned and, looking straight at the woman by the dressing table, brought the room to silence by exclaiming in a loud highfalutin voice that was an exact replica of the lady who had made the statement, ‘In future it’ll be grace before meals. If Johnny had been here tonight he would have stood up and given it to us: For what we are about to receive may the devil and the vicarage take the hindmost.’ Then in her own voice cried, ‘No doubt your Johnny would have done his best, but I can assure you my father would have made a better job of it and acted like a gentleman, just as my mama would, a real lady.’
And on this, she turned from the astonished faces, almost pushing Lady Golding over, who was muttering under her breath, ‘Oh my God!’ and entered the closet where she stood with her eyes tightly closed for a moment. When at last she opened them it was to see two candles burning, one at each end of a narrow shelf on which there was a row of small bowls, very like the finger bowls that had been on the dining table, and on the shelf beneath, two small copper cans of water.
The closet consisted of a wooden box with a hole in the middle, the hole being surrounded by a leather pad.
She did not use it but she poured some water into a bowl, took a small finger towel from a pile placed next to the cans and, wetting the end of it, dabbed her brow with it. Then she sat down on the edge of the wooden seat and waited. She couldn’t go out there and face them again. She wanted to go home. Oh, how she wished she was home.
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