‘Well, thank goodness, you are dressed. How do you feel?’
‘Did I seem a bit drunk last night?’ Poppy yawned and then thirstily drained the glass of water on her bedside table.
‘You are just so stupid,’ said Daisy severely. ‘How could you have taken that much wine? Lady Cynthia—’
‘Never mind about Lady Cynthia,’ interrupted Poppy. ‘Did Bob Morgan notice anything?’
‘What does that matter?’ said Daisy impatiently.
‘Of course it matters,’ snapped Poppy. ‘He threatened to throw Edwin out of the band if he got drunk again. “You don’t drink when you’re on duty” – that’s what he said to him – “and you’re on duty when you are playing in my band.”’ Tears came to Poppy’s eyes and she put her hand to her forehead. ‘I’ve got such a headache. And I didn’t drink much.’
‘Yes, you did,’ said Daisy unsympathetically, but then she relented. ‘I’ll have a word with Morgan and tell him that you thought the punch was only lemonade or something.’
‘Thanks!’ Poppy cheered up. ‘He likes you and thinks that you are sensible. He’s much more likely to believe you than me.’ She turned to the mirror and began to comb her hair.
‘I’ve got a great idea,’ she began, but Daisy interrupted her.
‘Prepare for a shock – no more wild parties.’ She held out the telegram from Sir John and Poppy scanned it, pouting heavily.
‘Oh, bother,’ she said. ‘Still, there’s always lunchtime – and of course evening visits to Violet. Who’s the other telegram from?’
‘Father, I hope,’ said Daisy. She held the gummed strip on the envelope to the warmth from Poppy’s teapot and carefully separated the flap from the back of it. Then she peeled it away and pulled out the post-office form.
‘Oh, good; it’s about Rose’s arrival,’ she said, and held it out to Poppy who read it aloud:
TUESDAY VICTORIA 2PM TELEPHONE OUT OF
ORDER WIRE SHE CAN STAY OVERNIGHT
‘Wire she can stay overnight – what does the man mean?’ puzzled Poppy.
‘He’s trying to save a shilling,’ said Daisy. ‘He means to say send a telegram if she can stay overnight here in London. You know what Father is like about spending money on telegrams. I’m going to spend another shilling though, and you can pray that everything is going to work out.’ Daisy grinned at her sister and added bossily, ‘Now if you want to go out, take Morgan with you and stay with him. Tell him about meeting them at the East India Docks at three p.m. – tell him that first of all so that he can plan.’
She raced down the steps, trying out the words in her mind. There must be exactly twelve so that her father would not wonder about the lack of a signature.
WILL MEET ROSE ON TUESDAY AND
KEEP HER FOR A WEEK STOP
Once the telegram was sent she could relax. She and Poppy would meet Elaine and Sir John at the East India Docks, explain about the lost telegram, implore them to say nothing to the Earl about it in case the unfortunate postmistress got into trouble and then they both would enjoy their time in London and be discreet about their activities.
Chapter Ten
Wednesday 2 April 1924
The East India Docks were crowded with people welcoming travellers after their long journey from India. Morgan parked the car at some distance and then made a way for them through the crowd until they were so near that the ship loomed high above their heads. After a moment they spotted Elaine, pretty in furs, standing against the railings of the ship, and Jack, the newly dubbed Sir John, by her side.
But on the other side of Elaine was a young man. And once she had seen him, Daisy looked no longer at the woman who was her real mother.
‘Wow!’ she murmured.
He was the most devastatingly beautiful man that Daisy had ever seen in her life. Love at first glance, she thought, seeing the words written on a film title board. But this was no film and her heart was thudding inside her warm coat.
Beside Elaine at the ship’s railings was the man of her dreams. Not tall, half a head shorter than Sir John, very slim. The three were standing just above the dock, so near that she could even see his eyes – gorgeous eyes, huge and dark. Daisy’s fingers itched for her camera. What a face! A perfect mouth, half open, made for kissing, thought Daisy, a straight nose, masculine, but of such a faultless shape that it looked as though it had been taken from a Greek statue. And hair as blue-black as a magpie’s wing.
‘Elaine looks different,’ said Poppy’s voice from beside her.
Daisy looked at her in shock. Perhaps she was teasing; surely Poppy had noticed him too, but no, Poppy looked her usual, slightly indifferent self. She didn’t show any interest in the extraordinarily good-looking young man beside Elaine and Jack.
The three were walking down the gangway now, Elaine hanging on Jack’s arm and the Greek god on her other side, laughing now and displaying a splendid set of white teeth. Daisy felt her cheeks glow. Poppy moved forward and Daisy had to follow. Elaine had seen them now. She waved with her free arm and then pointed them out to the young man. Sir John waved also and nodded to Morgan, who was approaching them, ready to take Elaine’s dressing case from her husband.
‘Darling!’ Elaine flung her arms around Daisy’s neck and held her very close for a long minute. ‘How I have missed you!’ Then hurriedly she turned to Poppy and bestowed the same embrace on her.
‘You’re looking well, Daisy. Grown a bit, I think.’ Sir John broke off his conversation with Morgan about the trunks and the suitcases that were being carried down by a couple of porters.
Idiot, thought Daisy, talking to me as though I were about ten years old, but it didn’t matter anyway. He, the gorgeous man, the Greek god, wasn’t looking at her; wasn’t listening to Sir John. Elaine was saying, ‘Girls, this is Mr Charles de Montfort; Charles, these are my nieces, Lady Poppy and Lady Daisy.’ The Greek god was smiling and his hand was outstretched and his beautiful eyes – now that Daisy was near to him she could see that they were a wonderful shade of dark blue – were firmly fixed on Poppy. And it was Poppy’s hand which he held reverentially, giving her a half-bow and a wonderful smile.
For the first time in her life, Daisy almost hated her twin.
‘Have you been out in India for long, or was it just a holiday?’ Poppy was asking politely.
‘A few years.’ His voice, too, was wonderful. Quite deep and very musical. And his tanned skin suited him, thought Daisy.
‘And this is Lady Poppy’s sister Lady Daisy,’ Sir John broke into the rapture on the young man’s face with a slightly abrupt note in his voice.
‘Lady Daisy.’ He took her hand, but his eyes strayed back to Poppy, who said impatiently to Sir John, ‘Oh, never mind all of this “Lady” stuff, Jack – it’s so old-fashioned. Call us Poppy and Daisy. It’s lovely to meet you, Charles.’
Her tone, to Daisy’s relief, was unemotional and indifferent, but the gorgeous young man continued to stare at her.
‘You and Daisy will have a lot in common, Charles,’ Jack was saying. ‘Charles has been in quite a few films in India, Daisy.’
‘You like films, Daisy?’ His smile was perfunctory – that of an elder cousin.
‘I’m a film director,’ said Daisy coolly, and could have blessed Poppy when she chimed in with, ‘Daisy has a film called Murder in the Dark running in a cinema just now.’
Daisy tried to smile modestly and hoped he would not ask where. Somewhere up in Scotland, Sir Guy had told her. ‘I’ve done well out of your film,’ he had added, ‘doubled the price that I paid you for it. But these days the film-going public needs something new all the time. Films only last a few months on the whole.’
‘What films did you star in?’ she asked.
‘Quite a few,’ he said, with a weary air that Daisy thought very attractive, though not as attractive as the boyish smile that followed it. ‘That means nothing that you would have heard of, I’m afraid.’
She smiled back. ‘Perhaps you’d
star in one of my films and we’d both make a fortune,’ she dared to say.
‘Daisy’s godfather is Sir Guy Beresford and he owns a film studio,’ put in Elaine. ‘He thinks that she is very talented. I knew that you two would have a lot in common.’ She put her arm around Daisy and suddenly Daisy felt a little thrill run through her. Almost like having a mother, she thought. And then had to smile at herself. Elaine was her mother. Perhaps, like all mothers, Elaine was doing a spot of matchmaking. Perhaps Charles was rich – he must be if his mother took a house in London for the season though she did not appear to have a daughter. A Greek god – and rich too! Who minds marrying money, if money comes looking like this? she thought as she smiled up at Charles. He smiled back at her and started to ask questions about her films and did not glance again at Poppy.
‘Here comes Morgan,’ interrupted Sir John. ‘Come on, girls. Can’t offer you a lift, Charles, I’m afraid. We’ll be crowded out.’
‘Oh, Mother will be here in a few minutes. She is always late. And if she doesn’t turn up, I’ll get a cab. I’ll call tomorrow, if I may.’ Despite the talk about films, his eyes still went back to Poppy with that expression of admiration. However, Daisy was hopeful. Poppy was only interested in men who played jazz – film-star good looks were of no importance to her. In any case, her whole mind was focused on Baz. No other boy had ever meant anything to Poppy, and Daisy had the feeling that none ever would. Once Charles saw Poppy with Baz he would realize that he had no chance with her.
‘Yes, let’s go before the car gets blocked in,’ said Daisy hurriedly. She seized one of the packages that Elaine was fumbling with, tucked it under her arm and urged them all forward. It had occurred to her that it would be better to be out of the way before Lady Cynthia arrived on the scene.
‘Aren’t you surprised to see us?’ she asked as she settled into the back seat of the Humber, between Elaine and Poppy. She gave her mother’s hand a little squeeze. She had never admitted to Elaine that Poppy knew their secret so any gestures of affection had to be those of an affectionate niece to an indulgent and loving aunt. Elaine was so desperately ashamed of having had an illegitimate baby that she would hate to know that anyone other than her aunt and her brother-in-law knew of her secret, thought Daisy.
‘Yes, we are. Though very pleased, of course,’ Sir John was saying from the front seat. ‘Especially Morgan. I was all ready to share a cab with Charles de Montfort. Apparently his mother has taken a house in Grosvenor Square also.’
‘Well, according to your butler you sent a telegram to Beech Grove, but we didn’t get it,’ said Daisy, trying to sound as though it were a trivial matter. ‘Don’t say anything to Father, will you, Elaine?’ she added. ‘He’s not well at the moment; his nerves are not in a good state and he’d have a fit if he thought that we had stayed up in London without you two – but as a matter of fact we managed fine. We went to see Violet and Justin.’
‘No, of course we won’t say anything to Michael; I know how he worries. I’m glad that you were so sensible. And of course you had Morgan here to drive you over to Violet’s place and take you home again; I know that he would look after you well.’ Elaine gave Daisy’s hand a little pat and cast a look at Morgan, who nodded his head and raised his hand to his cap in thanks at her praise.
‘Telegrams have been flying.’ Daisy decided to get all the confessions over during the drive while the noise of engines revving and horns blowing distracted attention from her words. ‘There’s an outbreak of scarlet fever in Rose’s school and the girls have been sent home a week early. They are arriving from Dover into London on Tuesday. I sent a telegram to Father saying that she can stay here. Phone’s out of order at Beech Grove – as usual! Was that all right?’ Elaine, she guessed, would not mind that she had opened a telegram addressed to the Nelboroughs.
‘Perfectly.’ Elaine looked genuinely pleased. ‘But that will be wonderful. Dear little Rose! Tell me, how is she getting on in Switzerland? I must say that I loved that school.’
‘Very well, I think, but she’ll be able to tell you herself.’ Daisy made a private note to bribe Rose to give very good accounts of the school to Elaine. After all, Elaine was the one paying the bills, so that all this stuff about ‘a lonely prisoner in a foreign land’ would be a bit disappointing for her. And certainly Sir John would immediately want to investigate stories about white slave traders buying photographs of boarding-school girls.
‘You don’t mind, dearest, if Morgan takes a detour around by Westminster? I have something that I need to drop off at the office of a member of parliament.’ Sir John addressed Elaine over the back seat of the car.
‘Not at all, Jack. We’re quite cosy here.’ Elaine was the perfect wife for a successful man, thought Daisy. She obviously adored him. All of the time that he was in the House of Commons – and to give him his due he was not long – she poured out a hymn of praise about him. Poppy grew bored and yawned, but Daisy was glad for her mother. From time to time she had felt a little guilty about refusing the invitation to go to India to live with them, but now she could see that her presence was not at all necessary and that she might even have been in the way.
‘Does Jack want to stay on in India? Or would he think of coming back to England?’ she asked the question, knowing the answer.
‘India suits his talents,’ replied Elaine firmly. ‘He is so highly thought of there. Why, the Maharajah . . .’ and she embarked on another story about her wonderful husband.
Did Elaine ever have regrets about giving up her baby to another woman, even if that woman was her sister? Did she ever wish that she had had the courage to stand up to the world and keep her child? Daisy thought not, and she tried not to mind. She saw Poppy looking at her and remembered with a little warm feeling in her heart the words uttered by her – ‘I’ve decided that we will always be twins’.
‘Here’s Jack,’ said Elaine, and the look on her face told Daisy what a success this second marriage had been. Impulsively she kissed her mother’s cheek. ‘He can’t stay away from you for too long,’ she teased, and saw Morgan tighten his lips to keep the grin from his face.
‘Affairs of state, Jack?’ she queried when he got back into the car. It was important, she felt, to keep the tone light and not to wear the look of an abandoned child. Elaine was too prone to guilt about that. After all, what else could she have done? And it was Daisy’s own decision not to live with them in India.
‘Oh, much more important than that!’ said Jack in shocked tones. ‘Well, I did have a parcel to deliver, but the main purpose was to recruit a few young men for your coming-out ball. I have three under-secretaries, a promising young member of parliament and the three sons of an old friend who has retired from India. All handsome young men, I assure you, girls.’
‘Seven, and with Charles de Montfort that makes eight,’ said Elaine. ‘I’ve got all sorts of ideas about your ball – Jack and I have been talking them over during the voyage. I want it to be splendid for you both. Suitable young men are always the problem though – so eight for starters is wonderful.’
‘And there’s Baz, Simon, Edwin and George,’ said Poppy, for whom the members of the jazz band would be the most important people present. ‘That will make twelve – how many are we going to invite for this ball?’
‘We’d like it to be a big affair,’ said Elaine with a look at her husband. ‘It’s just a matter of getting enough young men – girls are always easy.’
‘I’ll get you so many young men that we’ll probably end up scurrying around London recruiting girls,’ prophesied Jack, but there was a laugh in his voice, and Daisy guessed that he was quite looking forward to putting his formidable organizing talents to this ball and was probably determined to make it, for the sake of his new wife, the event of the season.
‘By the way, we’ve already met Charles de Montfort’s mother, Lady Cynthia,’ said Daisy. She tried to sound casual, but she felt her heart bump uncomfortably at the mention of the Greek god’s name.
‘Bit of a—’ began Poppy, but Daisy interrupted her quickly, with, ‘A very pleasant woman, very friendly and hospitable to us. She even invited us to stay, but we told her that your housekeeper was looking after us very well.’ She risked a quick look at Morgan, but the chauffeur’s profile was rigid, his eyes, beneath the peaked cap, fixed on the road as he swung into Grosvenor Square.
‘Charles must have had quite a queue for a taxi,’ exclaimed Jack, looking out of his window. ‘Look, he’s only just arrived.’
‘And there she is,’ said Poppy, looking with disfavour at the charming picture of a mother embracing her son on the pavement at the bottom of the steps. ‘Right across the road from us,’ she added, and Daisy knew what her twin was thinking. All their comings and goings would have been noted. What if Lady Cynthia gave the game away?
They saw both the heads turn when the car drew up in front of number twelve. Lady Cynthia took her arms from around her son and they both came across the road towards them.
‘I’ll make sure that Morgan knows what to do about the luggage,’ said Poppy. As soon as the car stopped she was the first to jump out and she was around the back of the Humber before the two de Montforts were halfway to the stately old car.
Here goes, thought Daisy. She followed Elaine out of the car, smiling sweetly and hoping sincerely that the woman would not say anything bad about her and Poppy to Sir John or, worse still, to her son. How very good-looking he was, she thought again. He seemed to light up the dull square on the dull spring day.
Lady Cynthia obviously had more pressing things to discuss than the scandalous behaviour of Sir John’s nieces-in-law. She seemed very anxious to impress the great man himself and embarked on a long story as to why she had thought that the ship was going to arrive at the East India Docks at four o’clock, rather than at three.
Debutantes: In Love Page 7