by Rosie Clarke
*
‘Go to a garden party in Hampstead on Saturday?’ Lizzie said doubtfully. ‘I know I said I might, but that was before Harry…’
‘You promised…’ Beth pleaded. ‘It’s the chance of a lifetime, Lizzie. He must live in one of those big houses near the Heath. There will be lots of posh people there – fashionable ladies, I expect. We could both wear one of your hats – they might ask who made them and then we could tell them you made them… besides, Harry isn’t likely to get another leave yet, is he?’
‘No, I shouldn’t think so.’ Beth’s idea was tempting. If people liked the hats they might make new customers for the workshop. She looked at Beth’s face and realised that her friend was excited by the idea of a party in Hampstead.
‘Which of my hats would you choose to wear if I agreed?’
‘Could I wear the green straw? That witch’s hat is such fun. I could never wear it anywhere else, but for a garden party – it would be a real lark.’
‘Yes, it does suit you,’ Lizzie agreed. ‘Go on then. I’ll wear the hat I made for my wedding with my white dress – what dress will you wear?’
‘I’ve got my black tailored costume.’
‘The hat will look lovely with that… I suppose we could…’
‘Yes, let’s,’ Beth giggled. ‘I’ll take good care of your hat, Lizzie. I won’t spoil it, so you can sell it afterwards.’
‘No, Ed warned me that the straw may fray so I shall not be able to sell it, but I want people to see it. When it’s been shown to a few people, I’ll give it to you.’
‘We’ll have a good time on Saturday, because I’m leaving soon and I don’t know when I’ll see you again…’
Chapter 22
Lizzie looked at Beth as they arrived in front of the big house set back in its own grounds. Neither of them had expected anything like this, and she could see from her friend’s face that she was wondering if her decision to come had been the right one.
‘Shall we go for a walk and then go home?’
‘Dressed like this?’ Beth shook her head. ‘Mr Winters invited us, so we shall go through with it now we’ve come – besides, you look great, Lizzie.’
‘So do you,’ Lizzie said. ‘That outfit makes you look as if you’re a model out of a glossy magazine.’
‘I feel different, exciting,’ she confessed. ‘Come on, let’s go in and see what people make of my hat…’
They rang the front doorbell. It was answered by a pretty young woman wearing a pale blue full-skirted dress and a large white hat. She stared at Beth’s hat and giggled.
‘Gosh, I’ve never seen anything like that,’ she said. ‘It’s mad but really fun. Come on in. My name is Sandra. Everyone is out the back enjoying themselves. I came in for a moment or I wouldn’t have heard you – we all just go round the back…’
Lizzie and Beth followed her through a large sitting room to a pair of open French windows. Outside there were lots of people milling around, mostly pretty girls, but also a few gentlemen. Small tables were set out at intervals and had umbrellas over them to protect people from the sun. There was a large buffet spread under a yellow striped awning and two men wearing white aprons stood behind it to serve the guests with food, of which there was a bewildering variety. Lizzie was impressed by everything she saw, as was Beth. They looked at each other, knowing that they were way out of their depth amongst these people but determined to enjoy themselves nonetheless.
‘Ah, Miss Court and Lizzie Larch…’ Sebastian Winters came up to them, smiling. ‘I’m so glad you came. Please, let me get you a drink and help yourself to some food.’
‘Thank you.’ Beth beamed at him. ‘I’ll have a white wine please – and some of that delicious food. Everything looks wonderful…’
‘I’m glad you like it. You look charming yourself, Miss Court – and I love that wonderful hat. I think you made that, Lizzie?’
‘It’s just a bit of fun. I don’t imagine anyone would actually buy something like that…’
‘I know of more than one young woman who would buy it just for the fun of wearing something so different – and outrageous.’ His eyes seemed warm and caressing on her face. ‘I always knew you had talent. I suspect you made this in your own time – are there any more?’
‘A few… I can’t afford to make hats just for fun, even though I’d like to.’
‘Make a few of your madder ideas up for me and I’ll pay for them…’
‘I would have to ask Mr Oliver…’
‘Do them in your own time. He doesn’t need to know…’
‘I don’t think I could do that, but if I tell him you’ll buy them…’
‘I shall. I give you my word. Will you make a few flights of fancy for me, Lizzie Larch?’
‘Of course, but you do know I’m Lizzie Oliver now?’
‘To me you’ll always be Lizzie Larch – it looks better on a label than Lizzie Oliver, don’t you think?’
‘Yes…’ she breathed in sharply. ‘But…’
‘Make those hats for me, Lizzie, and we’ll talk about the future – yes?’ His eyes were challenging her, daring her to accept, and she felt something inside responding.
Lizzie saw that Beth was already being served with a drink and some food at the buffet. ‘Perhaps I should join Beth…’
‘Yes, of course. I must circulate, but I wanted to tell you that I’m pleased you came – and I do love both your hat and Beth’s.’ Sebastian’s hand touched hers for a moment; she felt a tingle shoot through her and pulled it back with a gasp. She was Harry’s wife and this wasn’t right!
Lizzie thanked him, her cheeks pink as she moved to join Beth and take her choice of the delicious food. Their plates filled with tempting little tarts, miniature sausage rolls, a couple of fancy fingers of something on toast, and various other bits, they found an empty table and sat down.
Lizzie had followed Beth’s lead and chosen a medium white wine, which she sipped warily.
They had been sitting alone for a few minutes when a very handsome man in a light-coloured blazer and cream flannels came up to them, hovering before asking if he could sit with them.
‘Yes, if you wish,’ Beth said, before Lizzie could answer. ‘This food is awfully good. I don’t know what’s in these little canapés but they taste delicious.’
‘I think that must be the lobster. Unfortunately, it brings me out in spots, but don’t be alarmed, most people love it – I’m just subject to a few allergies.’ He offered his hand. ‘My name is Mark Allen, by the way. I’m fascinated by your hat, Miss…’
‘Beth Court. Lizzie made it, she’s so clever with hats,’ Beth said. ‘I’m just a secretary, I’m afraid.’
‘I think that’s awfully clever too,’ he replied seriously. ‘I don’t do anything much – son and heir to the estate. Father lets me think I’m helping out now and then, but to tell you the truth I feel pretty useless… but that is going to end. Next week I intend to join the Merchant Navy… that’s if they’ll take me.’
‘Lizzie’s husband is in the RAF,’ Beth informed him. ‘You haven’t got much to eat. I could eat twice as much of these things. I’ve never tasted anything so delicious.’
‘You must try the cakes and the syllabubs; my sister loves sweet trifles. I tell her she will get fat but she never does…’ He looked almost shy, then, ‘Why don’t I come with you and tell you what everything is?’
‘Oh yes, thanks,’ Beth said and got up with alacrity.
Lizzie watched as her friend went to the buffet with Mark Allen. It was obvious that she was enjoying herself, but Lizzie preferred to sit and watch all the pretty girls. Sebastian Winters had invited more girls than men; they were dressed in gorgeous clothes and their hats were obviously expensive. Lizzie looked at the designs and realised that Harry’s uncle was right; one or two of them were wearing unusual designs but most were basic shapes and it was the trimming that made them different.
Sebastian sat down in Beth’s vacant chair. ‘D
id that hat your friend is wearing take a long time to do?’
‘Too long,’ Lizzie said. ‘To earn anything on it, I would need to sell it for four pounds. It was just a whim…’
‘Beautiful though, like its creator,’ he said. ‘I always knew you had talent, Lizzie, which is why I should have liked you to work for me.’
‘Perhaps I should have done,’ she said. ‘I’ve learned so much working with Ed – but sometimes I do want to make more exotic hats.’
‘I could sell a hat like the one your friend is wearing for more than seven pounds,’ Sebastian said reflectively. ‘Of course it would be a special customer and you couldn’t sell more than one. If it could be done in less time and retailed cheaper – but I suppose individual designs will always be more expensive.’
‘Yes, perhaps.’
‘May I get you another drink – perhaps something different?’
‘I’m fine, thank you,’ Lizzie replied. ‘I don’t drink much wine… I’m afraid, I’m not used to the high life.’
‘My friends enjoy these parties, so I give them. I’m just as happy with a quiet dinner for two.’ There was something in his eyes at that moment, something reflective and sad that made her wonder about the real man – the man beneath the successful and polished façade.
‘Yes, that’s what my husband likes,’ Lizzie said and his eyes met hers. ‘He is in the RAF and I miss him, but next week he’ll be home on leave.’
‘Why did you get married so suddenly?’ Sebastian asked, a brooding expression in his eyes. ‘It was rather sudden, wasn’t it?’
‘It wasn’t because I was pregnant, if that’s what you’re thinking. My uncle died and I had to leave my home and…’ the words deserted her, because she didn’t know why she’d rushed into marriage with a man she was no longer sure she loved.
‘Why didn’t you have a little patience?’ he asked, his expression somewhere between exasperation and disappointment. ‘You’ll wake up and discover you made a mistake one of these days, Lizzie.’
‘Why should I? I love Harry…’ She raised her eyebrows in teasing mockery. ‘Would you rather I’d been one of your many girlfriends?’ She let her gaze wander over the garden and all the lovely ladies wandering about in their beautiful clothes. ‘I think I’d get lost in this crowd.’
‘You would never be lost in any crowd.’
‘I’m not that special, Sebastian, and you know it. It’s only because I said no that you’re interested.’
‘Why don’t you trust me? I could help you even now – if you would let me…’ Again, there was that challenge in his eyes, making her aware of him on so many levels, not least the attractive man who liked to flirt with any woman that came within his orbit.
‘You’re very kind, but I have to try to make a success of things myself.’
‘I admire your independent spirit, Lizzie. I hope it works out for you, and I mean that sincerely – whatever you think of me.’ For a moment longer his intense gaze seemed to dwell on her and once again she felt that tightness in her throat, a needy wanting that she knew she must crush now, before it caused harm. ‘Well, I shall have to love you and leave you for now – but remember you have a friend in me if you need me, Lizzie Larch.’
Lizzie understood passion now as she had not before her marriage, at least Harry had done that for her – and it had made her realise how attractive Sebastian was, and what that look in his eyes really meant.
He rose and went off to speak to some of the other young women milling around his large garden. Lizzie stood up and wandered off, taking the chance to explore some of the more secluded areas. She needed a little time to think about her reaction to Sebastian, because it was unexpected and unwanted.
There were several shaded walks, because the garden was huge, and she wandered past an ornamental pool with a fancy bridge over it and found a seat on the other side, sitting in the shade of a tree to watch the party from afar. Beth was circulating and a lot of the women were talking to her, clearly intrigued by her hat; she took it off and let one of them try it on, and the young woman giggled and preened herself to her companions.
Lizzie wasn’t sure what to think. Most of them seemed to find the hat amusing, but she wasn’t sure they would want one of their own. After a while, a man came strolling over the bridge to her and smiled.
‘May I sit down?’ he asked. ‘I’m John Saunders and my girlfriend has fallen in love with your witch’s hat. Your friend told her where you work and she wants to come and see you – we’re getting married at the end of October and she would like something different, though I’m not sure she would be brave enough to wear a hat like that…’
‘I could probably trim some hats to suit her if she wanted.’
‘I’ll tell her then. Wendy is a little shy and didn’t want to ask you herself. Why don’t you come and circulate? I’m sure they are all dying to meet you.’
‘Thank you, Mr Saunders, I will.’
He stood up and they walked back together to the lawn where the other guests were still enjoying themselves. She’d been feeling a bit out of it, as if she didn’t belong, but now she began to enjoy herself.
Even if the witch’s hat was not saleable, it had certainly aroused people’s interest and that was what she needed. If only a few of those who had promised to visit the workshops kept their word, she might get Mr Oliver to listen to her idea about bespoke orders. God knew, she needed something to fill her empty life…
*
It was past seven when they left the party. Mark Allen had offered to drive them both home and Beth accepted without consulting Lizzie. She was a little dubious about it and would have preferred to catch the underground, but Beth had been drinking more than her and was flushed with triumph.
‘Everyone was fantastic over your hat,’ she gushed ‘You should set up a shop of your own.’
‘I don’t think I’m quite ready for that, Beth.’
Lizzie wasn’t quite as convinced that the women Beth had talked to would actually seek her out.
Mark dropped her outside her flat and Beth refused to come in with her.
‘I’ll see you soon,’ she said and handed Lizzie the hat. ‘You’d better have this back. I don’t want it to get spoiled.’
Lizzie was going to tell her that she could keep it, but decided to hang on to it for the moment
Walking upstairs to her little flat, Lizzie smelled something, her nose wrinkling at the unpleasant odour. Was that something burning?
She went into the kitchen first and saw that the remains of beans on toast were on the table and dirty saucepans in the sink. Her heart caught and she rushed into the sitting room to discover it was empty, but she could smell cigarette smoke.
‘Harry…’ she called and then saw the note propped against the plant pot on the sideboard.
Where the hell are you, Lizzie? I know you didn’t expect me, but I got a twelve-hour pass. I waited as long as I could… I thought you would be home. Harry.
Her throat tightened as she realised she’d missed him. If only she’d known; she would much rather have had a few hours with Harry than spend them at that garden party.
Brushing away foolish tears, Lizzie sat down and concentrated on looking through her most recent drawings. It would be silly to cry just because she’d missed Harry.
Yet even as she worked on the design, her mind kept turning to Harry and the few precious hours she’d missed with him. He would wonder where she’d been and when he knew she’d been to a party at Sebastian Winters’ house… he was going to be angry.
Chapter 23
Tony was waiting for Beth the next evening. He looked serious and her heart caught. She’d loved him once, at least she was almost sure she had, though after the way she’d responded to Mark Allen’s kisses the previous evening she wasn’t certain how she felt now. For a few minutes in Mark’s car she’d been swept away on a wave of a feeling that was new to her. It was different to anything she’d felt for Tony and she’d almost given
into her need, but just in time he’d pulled away.
‘It wouldn’t be fair to take advantage, Beth,’ he’d said apologetically. ‘I like you an awful lot, dear girl, but we don’t know each other – and I don’t want to make trouble for you.’
‘No, I don’t want that either. Thanks for being honest…’
‘I should like to get to know you,’ Mark said earnestly. ‘Look, I’m going to be honest with you. We’re from different worlds, Beth, and my father expects and all that… but I’m taking the first step to breaking out of the traces by joining the Merchant Navy, and I’d like to see you again – if you’re willing to take a chance on an idiot like me…’
‘You’re not an idiot,’ Beth said quickly. ‘You’ve been honest, Mark, so I’ll be the same. Something happened just now between us that I don’t understand. I’ve been courting regularly, but I’ve never felt like that with him, even though I thought I wanted to marry him. We fell out recently and I’m not sure how I feel – but I should like to meet you again…’
‘What about the flicks one night - and a drink afterwards? We should get to know one another, Beth – do it slowly and not rush things.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed and kissed his cheek. ‘When shall we meet?’
‘Not tomorrow – Tuesday? Do you want me to pick you up?’
‘No, we’ll meet somewhere. My parents would be on Tony’s side – and they’d say you were only after one thing, because you belong to a different class.’
Mark laughed. ‘You’re a breath of fresh air to me, Beth. I feel as if I’ve been running and accidentally fallen down a ravine. The view is beautiful but I’m not sure of the landing…’
His fanciful words made Beth giggle. She was breathless and nervous of seeing him again and yet it made her feel wonderful to know that he wanted to see her.
Tony was glowering now as she reached him. ‘I thought you were never coming. Where have you been?’