by Maeve Binchy
She sat down and looked unseeingly out.
They couldn’t have decided to come up to Dublin. Not to the Foleys’. Not tonight.
Rosemary wasn’t at her history lecture.
“She’s gone to the hairdresser,” said Deirdre, a busy, fussy girl who knew everything. “Apparently she’s going to the big dance tonight in a party. They’re all going to drinks in Jack Foley’s house first. Imagine. In his house.”
“I know,” Benny said absently. “I’m going too.”
“You’re what?”
“Yes.” Benny looked up at the girl’s highly unflattering surprise.
“Well, well, well,” Deirdre said.
“Nobody’s taking anyone. We’re all paying for ourselves.” She was determined to bring Rosemary down, in some respects anyway.
“Yes, but to be included. Heavens.” Deirdre looked Benny up and down.
“I’m looking forward to it.” Benny knew she had a grim, despairing look on her face.
In addition to all her anxieties she now feared that her parents would be there, fumbling and apologizing and mainly horrified by the amount of bosom she would be revealing. It was not beyond the possible that they might actually order her out of the room to cover herself. The thought made Benny go hot and cold.
“I suppose it’s being friendly with that Nan Mahon that does it,” Deirdre said eventually.
“Does what?”
“Gets you invited to lots of places. It’s a great thing to have a friend like that.”
Deirdre had shrewd, piggy eyes.
Benny looked at her for a moment or two with dislike.
“Yes. I usually choose my friends for that reason,” she said.
Too late she remembered how Mother Francis had warned them to beware of sarcasm.
“It’s a way to go, certainly,” Deirdre said, nodding her head sagely.
The day seemed very long. She met Eve and they went out to Dun Laoghaire on the five o’clock train. There were a lot of office workers going home. And at some of the stations school children in uniform got on. Eve and Benny nudged each other in pleasure to be part of a different world. A world of going to a big Dress Dance, as part of a big, glittering circle.
Kit had sandwiches for them.
“I’m too excited,” Eve protested.
“I’ve been on a diet. I’d better not fall at the last fence,” Benny explained.
Kit was adamant. She wasn’t going to have them fainting at the dance, and anyway the food had to be digested and turned into fat, and there wouldn’t be time for that to happen. There was no fear that Benny would burst through her outfit. Kit had declared the bathroom a no-go area for her lodgers, though she said that was not strictly necessary. Most of them didn’t see the need to spend hours in it.
The coffee and sandwiches were on a tray in their room. Kit seemed to understand their need to giggle and reassure each other.
The meal that night was her responsibility she said. Eve wasn’t to think of either preparing it or serving it.
They zipped and hooked each other. They held the light at a better angle for the application of eyeliner and eye shadow. They advised on the amount of lipstick blotting, and they dusted a lot of powder over Benny’s bosom, which was whiter than her neck and arms.
“Probably everyone’s is. It’s just we don’t get a chance to see them.”
Benny’s hand flew to her cleavage.
“Don’t do that. Remember Clodagh says it looks as if you’re drawing attention to it.”
“It’s easy to say that. Specially wearing a smock like she does.”
“Come on, now. Didn’t she make you look marvelous.”
“Did she, Eve? Or did she and I make me look a fool?” Benny looked so troubled and upset, Eve was startled.
“Come on. We’re all a bit nervous. I think I look like a horrible bird of prey, but when I try to be objective I think that’s probably not so.”
“Of course it’s not so. You look terrific. You must know that. Look at yourself in the mirror for heaven’s sake. You’re so petite, and colorful.” Benny’s words were stumbling over each other in their eagerness to convince her small worried friend.
“And so must you know you look great. What’s wrong? What don’t you like?”
“My chest.”
“Not again!”
“I’m afraid of what people will think.”
“They’ll think it’s terrific …”
“No, not fellows. Ordinary people.”
“What kind of ordinary people?”
“Whoever’s there first. You know, at the drinks bit. They might think I’m fast.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
Kit called up the stairs.
“Can I come and see you? Mr. Hayes will be here to drive you in, in about ten minutes.”
“Come on up and talk sense into my friend.”
Kit came in and sat on the bed. She was full of praise.
“Benny’s worried about her cleavage,” Eve explained.
“She shouldn’t be. Let the other girls worry about it, and envy it.” Kit said it as one who knew there was no argument.
“But …”
“It’s not Knockglen. Your parents aren’t going to be here.” Eve stopped suddenly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Benny’s eyes were too bright.
Eve and Kit exchanged glances.
“Mrs. Hegarty, could I use your phone do you think?”
“Certainly,” Kit said. “It’s a coin-operated one, I’m afraid.”
Benny snatched up her handbag and ran downstairs.
They looked at each other in bewilderment.
“What’s that about?”
“I’ve no idea,” Eve said. “Something to do with Knockglen. She’s ringing home. You can bet on it.”
“Hallo, Patsy. It’s Benny.”
“Oh, are you at the dance yet?”
“Just setting out. Is Mother there, or Father?”
“No, Benny. They’re out.”
“They’re what?”
“They’re out. They went out about six o’clock.”
“Where did they go?”
“They didn’t tell me,” Patsy said.
“Patsy, they must have. They always say where they’re going.”
“Well, they didn’t. What did you want them for?”
“Listen, were they dressed up?”
“What do you mean?”
“What were they wearing, Patsy? Please.”
“God, Benny I never notice what people are wearing. They had their outdoor clothes on.” Patsy was doing her best.
“Are they in Dublin do you think?”
“Surely not. Surely they’d have said?”
“Did Sean Walsh collect them?”
“I don’t know. I was out in the scullery.”
“You must have noticed something.” Benny’s voice was very impatient. Patsy got into a huff.
“I’d have noticed plenty had I been told there was going to be a Garda inquiry on the phone,” she said, offended.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” said Patsy, but it wasn’t.
“I’ll see you tomorrow and tell you all about it.”
“Oh, very nice.”
“And if they do come back …”
“Well, Mother of God, Benny, I hope they will come back.”
“If they do come back, just say I rang to thank them for everything, and the lovely dress and all.”
“Sure Benny. I’ll say you rang all sweetness and light.”
Benny stood in the hall for a few moments to catch her breath.
She would not burden Eve with the whole thing. She would put her shoulders back and her chest forward. She would go to this party. If her parents turned up she would tell them she had lost the modesty vest. That it had blown away when she took it out of the parcel. She would be fun and make jokes and be jolly.
Even if her parents said mortifying things to people li
ke Rosemary, if they made crass remarks about hospitality being repaid, she would hold her head up high.
Nobody would know that in these hoops of steel which were meant to be called an uplift brassiere there was a heart of lead surrounded by a lot of wavy, nervous, fluttery feelings.
The doorbell rang and she answered it. A man in a hat and overcoat stood there.
“I’m Johnny Hayes, to drive two ladies into Donnybrook,” he said and, looking at the expanse of bosom approvingly, he added, “though it wouldn’t take much to make me drag a grand armful like yourself into the car and head off for the Dublin mountains.”
Now that it had started Lilly Foley was beginning to enjoy herself. Jack had been right. It was indeed well time they gave a party, and this was an ideal occasion. Their neighbors could admire the young people heading off to the dance. The house could be filled with young men in dinner jackets and girls in long, sweeping dresses without it looking pretentious. That was the style these big houses were meant for, Lilly Foley told herself. But she didn’t tell her husband or sons. They had a habit of sending her up over what they called her notions. If Lilly Foley liked to see cars draw up in their tree-lined road and hear the sound of long dresses swishing up the steps to the hall door, then she kept that little pleasure to herself.
An early arrival was Sheila, one of Jack’s fellow students. To Lilly Foley she had been a fairly constant voice on the telephone, wanting to go over some notes with Jack. Now here in the house she was an attractive girl, in a yellow and black dress, overeager to impress Lilly thought, busy explaining that she had an uncle a judge and a cousin a Senior Counsel so that she was practically born to be a barrister. Soon, a young couple, Sean and Carmel, arrived, who talked animatedly to each other and no one else. Lilly was pleased to see Bill Dunne … a personable and easygoing young man. He made a nice antidote to that Aidan Lynch, whose antics she had never understood and whose parents both had voices like foghorns.
She looked proudly at Jack, who was extraordinarily handsome in his rented dinner jacket, welcoming people in and laughing his easy laugh. He had an arm around first this girl and then another. You’d need to be a better detective than Lilly Foley considered herself to know which of them he liked most. The very pretty but rather over made-up girl, Rosemary, had allowed her glance to fall only briefly on Lilly before turning the full-voltage charm on Dr. Foley.
Aengus was extremely solemn in his duty as waiter. He stood at the foot of the stairs with his glasses gleaming, his new spotted bow tie resplendent. He felt the center of attention, the figure that everyone would be aware of as they came in and left their coats in the dining room.
So far it had all been strangers. He was relieved to recognize Aidan Lynch, Jack’s friend from school.
“Good evening,” Aidan said to him formally. “Are you from a catering agency? I don’t remember seeing you much on the social scene around Dublin.”
“I’m Aengus,” Aengus said, overjoyed not to have been recognized.
“You’re very kind to let me use your first name. I’m Aidan Lynch. My parents have gone ahead into the drawing room and I think are having their drink requirements met by Dr. Foley. Do I give you my order … er, Aengus, is it?”
“Aidan, I’m Aengus, Jack’s brother.” The smile of triumph was wide on his face.
“Aengus. So you are. I didn’t realize!” Aidan said, smiting his forehead.
“You can have dry sherry, or sweet sherry or a beer or a Club Orange,” Aengus said.
“My goodness.” Aidan was lost in indecision.
“But only one at a time.”
“Ah, that’s disappointing. I was just about to ask for them all together in a glass with a dollop of whipped cream on top.” He looked saddened.
“Seeing that you’re a friend of Jack’s I’ll ask if you can …” Aengus was about to set out for the kitchen where the drink was.
“Come back, you fool. Listen, did a beautiful, small dark girl come in.”
“Yes, she’s in there. She’s with some fellow. She keeps licking his ear and drinking out of his glass.”
Aidan pushed past him into the drawing room. How could Eve be behaving like this. Maybe she too had mixed all her drinks. But she was nowhere to be seen. His eyes went round the big room with its warm lights, its huge Christmas tree in the window. He saw a lot of familiar faces, but no Eve.
He came back to Aengus.
“Where is she? Quick.”
“Who?” Aengus was alarmed.
“The beautiful dark girl.”
“The one licking the fellow’s ear?”
“Yes, yes.” Aidan was testy.
Aengus had come to the door. “There!” He pointed at Carmel and Sean, who were, as usual, standing very close to each other.
Relief flooded over Aidan.
Carmel and Sean saw him and waved.
“What was all the pointing about?” Carmel asked.
“You look utterly beautiful, Carmel,” Aidan said. “Leave this man instantly. I’ll give you a better life. You have disturbed my dreams so much … come and disturb my waking hours as well!”
Carmel smiled a wise, mature woman-of-the-world smile and patted Aidan’s hand.
At the same moment, Aidan heard Eve’s voice behind him.
“Well, hallo Aidan. Here you are tongue-tied and wordless as ever.”
He turned and looked at her. She looked so good that he got a lump in his throat and for a few seconds he was literally unable to find words.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said. Very honestly and unaffectedly.
Nan had warned Eve not to say that the red skirt was on loan. If it was praised then thank for the praise, Nan had said. Why throw people’s compliments back in their faces.
Eve had never spoken to Aidan in anything other than jokey terms. But his admiration had been unqualified.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
Then it was as if the mist had cleared and they went back to their old way of going on.
“I’m glad you arrived just when you did, because Carmel was propositioning me here. It’s been deeply embarrassing in front of Sean, but what can I do?” Aidan looked at her helplessly.
“It’s something you’re going to have to cope with all your life. I’d say it’s a physical thing, you know the way animals give off scents. It couldn’t be intellectual or anything.”
Eve laughed happily and spun around to the admiring glance of Bill Dunne.
“You look terrific,” Bill Dunne said to her. “Why don’t you dress like that all the time?”
“I was just going to ask you exactly the same question,” she laughed up at him.
Bill fixed his tie and smiled foolishly. Aidan looked put out. He spoke hastily to Jack, who was at his elbow.
“I don’t know whether this was such a good idea.”
“What?” Jack looked at the glass of beer in Aidan’s hand. “Is it flat?”
“No. I mean asking all the girls. We thought we’d have them under our control. Maybe we’ll lose them all.”
“Jack?” Aengus had arrived, looking anxious.
“Aha, Mr. Fixit is here,” Aidan said, looking malevolently at the small boy he would never forgive for confusing him so at the outset of the evening.
“Jack, will I bring out the sausages yet? Mummy wants to know is everyone here.”
“Nan’s not here yet. Wait another few minutes.”
“Everyone else is here, are they?” Aidan looked round the room. He didn’t like the way Bill Dunne was making Eve laugh. He didn’t like the way everyone in the older set seemed to be making his parents laugh too loudly.
“I think so. Look, here’s Nan now.”
Standing at the door utterly naturally, as if she had entered crowded rooms like this every evening of her life, was Nan Mahon. She had a beautiful lemon dress, the skirt in flowing silk, the top a strapless bodice of thousands of tiny seed pearls on a lemon taffeta base. Her shoulders were graceful, rising from the dre
ss, her hair, a mass of golden curls, was scooped up into a clasp, also decorated with tiny pearl ornaments. Her skin looked as if she had never known a spot or a blemish.
Jack went over to greet her, and take her to meet his parents.
“Is that Jack’s lover, do you think?” Aengus asked Aidan Lynch hopefully. Aidan was the kind of person that sometimes told you unexpected things.
He was disappointed this time.
“You are a remarkably foolish and unwise young man to talk about lovers to boys who have been through a Catholic education and know that such things must be confined to the Holy Sacrament of Matrimony.”
“I meant like in the pictures …” Aengus pleaded.
“You don’t know what you mean, your mind is a snake pit of confusion. Go and get the sausages while you still have a few brain cells left alive,” Aidan ordered him.
“They’re not all there.” Aengus was mutinous.
“Yes, they are.”
“No, there’s someone in the cloakroom. She’s been there since she came in.”
“She probably got out the window and left,” said Aidan. “Get the sausages or I’ll tear the face off you.”
Aengus knew it had all been going too well. The bow tie, the attention and people thanking him. Now Aidan Lynch was speaking to him just like he had at school.
He went gloomily out toward the kitchen in search of the party food.
In the hall a big girl was looking at herself in the mirror without very much pleasure.
“Hallo,” he said.
“Hallo,” she replied. “Am I the last?”
“I think so. Are you Nan?”
“No. She just went in, I heard her.”
“They said I couldn’t serve the sausages until Nan arrived. She was the only one missing.”
“Well, I expect they forgot me,” she said.
“They must have,” he said comfortingly.
“Are you Jack’s brother?”
“Yes, I’m Aengus Foley.”
“How do you do. I’m Benny Hogan.”
“Do you like sausages?”
“Yes, why?”
“I’m getting some now. I thought you could have a few before you went on, to stock up like.”
“Thanks, but I’d better not. I’m afraid of bursting out of my dress.”
“You’ve burst out of most of it already,” said Aengus, indicating her bosom.