After the Party

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After the Party Page 10

by Cressida Connolly


  She judged it wiser to say nothing. Of course there was the possibility that tongues would wag and Hugh would hear of it. But there was also a fair chance that he would not, in which case there was little sense in her bringing it to his attention. As it transpired, he did hear about the incident, but his response was not at all as Phyllis would have predicted. He laughed it off.

  ‘You’re not angry?’ Phyllis asked.

  ‘If Julia were the sole culprit I’d be of a mind to give her a ticking off, but I believe she was only one among a little group of them. Put it down to youthful high spirits,’ said Hugh.

  ‘But she can’t go about daubing walls. It’s barbaric.’ Phyllis was surprised to find herself annoyed at her husband’s unexpected clemency.

  ‘We don’t know for certain that she actually wielded the brush herself. And no harm’s been done, to speak of.’

  ‘Well no, but …’

  ‘As a matter of fact – and I don’t believe the young people concerned were aware of this – the theatrical troupe operating out of that place are frightful people. Not all of them, perhaps, but the folk in charge. Truculent. Apparently they refused us the hire of the place, a year or so ago. And not for any old meeting, either: the Leader himself was coming down to give a talk. A couple of the chaps in the office told me about it; the theatre people were quite rude. Said our views were against the principles of common decency, anathema, that sort of thing. The men in our office actually seemed rather pleased that Julia and her chums had made our presence known over there. Serve them right.’

  ‘Yes, but even if the owners of the building are difficult or unpleasant, it’s still not right to deface the place. You can’t just go about painting slogans everywhere. I don’t care for the sentiment they expressed, either. We don’t want anyone to perish, surely? We simply want to put our own interests first. I do think we must impress that on Julia. It’s a matter of right from wrong.’

  Hugh put his hands on his wife’s shoulders. ‘They got a dressing-down at the camp, let’s just leave at that shall we? It doesn’t do to overreact.’

  Phyllis thought of refusing to allow Julia to attend camp for the remainder of its tenure, but what would the girl find to do by herself all day, alone at Bosham while the others were out? Gating her seemed more trouble than it was worth. She would soon in any case be removed from the Cadets and reunited with her school-fellows; a placid group of girls they were, from nice families scattered about the Home Counties. These school-friends would have less of an influence upon Julia, or a better influence. Phyllis asked Nina to ensure that Julia made no further forays outside the camp-site. Instead she would help with the organization of the final week, when various send-off celebrations were planned, including an archery competition and a donkey derby along the beach.

  But Julia had her heart set on joining the others for a final evening out. There was a plan for the youngsters to go to a dance-hall in Bognor. She begged to be allowed to go.

  ‘Please, Mummy! It’s my last chance to say goodbye to everyone.’

  ‘We’ll have to ask your father,’ said Phyllis.

  ‘He’s already said I can go,’ said Julia. ‘It’s just you, now.’

  ‘Has he? When did this happen?’

  ‘Earlier on. Yesterday, in fact.’

  ‘Well, I see you are presenting me with a fait accompli. I can’t very well refuse if your father has already given you permission. But you must be back at camp by ten o’clock.’

  ‘I will, I promise,’ said Julia.

  Julia was true to her word, but the evening did not end when the group returned to the site. Instead, a gaggle of the boys led by Freddy raided the canteen, taking all the sausages which were earmarked for breakfast the following morning, and made a bonfire down on the beach. But no one took them to task. There was so little time left before they disbanded, and with the uncertainty and ill-ease of the situation in Europe some of the older campers had an unspoken sense that the young might not meet again in such carefree times. In earlier years there had always been lively talk of plans for the following summer, but this time everyone was more subdued.

  ‘I gather there was singing around the fire until the wee small hours and then a few of them went bathing in the sea, with nothing on,’ Nina told Phyllis.

  ‘Not Julia, I’m sure,’ said Phyllis.

  ‘The girl’s not a child, you know. She’s rather more grown up than you think,’ said Nina.

  ‘She is only fourteen years old! We were still having supper in the nursery at her age,’ said Phyllis. Nina often sounded rather knowing when she spoke about Julia. Phyllis blamed her brother-in-law for this unfortunate tone. Before Nina had met Eric she had never been coarse like this.

  ‘I’m sure we’d have liked to have some fun, if there’d been any other children round and about,’ said Nina.

  ‘Well, there weren’t,’ snapped Phyllis.

  ‘Only Jamie,’ said Nina. ‘And he didn’t count.’

  Neither sister spoke. Eventually Nina broke the silence.

  ‘There’s to be a meeting on Thursday to go over camp funds, make sure we’ve settled with all our suppliers and logged everyone’s subscriptions. Will you come and lend a hand?’

  But Phyllis felt cross, still.

  ‘I’m not terribly good where accounts are concerned, I rather think I won’t,’ she said.

  In any case Phyllis would be glad to have Thursday to herself, for she had people coming to dinner the next day: the Templetons, Patricia and Greville and the Gordon-Cannings. If it was fine she planned to serve drinks on the lawn first, so that her guests could make the most of the harbour view. An extra woman was coming in to help in the kitchen and to serve at table. Then on Wednesday Venetia rang and asked if she might bring her sister, who was staying. This meant they were a man short, so Phyllis telephoned Patricia’s friend Pea-Brain, who seemed quite unperturbed at the lateness of the invitation. She was beginning to understand the man’s popularity, for he was always so pleasant and affable. She was rather excited that they would be ten, now: a real party. She thought she might wear the good bracelet Hugh had given her as her wedding present, since they had such a crowd.

  Once she’d made sure the glasses were set out for their after-dinner drinks in the drawing room – tumblers in case the men wanted whisky, as well as the little engraved glasses for liqueur – Phyllis went up to her room to dress. Hugh had already changed and was downstairs in the drawing room with the paper. Edwin and Frances came in and sat on her bed, watching as she brushed her hair and dabbed the cool glass stopper of her scent bottle against her wrists and throat.

  ‘Can I try on the bracelet, Mummy?’ asked Frances.

  ‘Not now, darling, I’ve got to get back downstairs. If you’re good and read your brother a story I’ll let you have a go with it tomorrow. Where’s Julia?’

  ‘I think she’s gone for a walk.’

  ‘What a silly time to choose! She knows we’ve got people. I don’t want her trudging about looking sorry for herself while they’re arriving.’

  The evening went well. Hugh and Greville greeted each other cordially and by tacit agreement they kept off politics. Hugh and Sarita talked about South America. Fergus Templeton and Andrew Gordon-Canning and Venetia’s sister became happily animated about horses. There was county gossip and during the first course Pea-Brain flirted amiably with Phyllis, before addressing his attentions during the rest of dinner to Venetia’s sister. After they’d eaten the women went through to the drawing room and Venetia regaled them with risqué stories. Even Patricia was in stitches. Before the men came in to join them, Phyllis asked if anyone wanted to go upstairs. Only Patricia did.

  ‘I’ll look in on the girls, say goodnight,’ she said.

  ‘Do,’ said her sister. ‘Edwin’ll be asleep, but they’d love to see you.’

  Patricia came back directly, unsmiling. It was futile trying to take Phyllis aside; the others were sure to overhear.

  ‘Darling, I’m su
re there’s nothing to worry about – only Julia’s not here. Frances tried to cover up for her but she burst into tears when I questioned her and gave the game away.’

  ‘But where can she have gone?’ cried Phyllis. ‘Oh Christ – you don’t think she’s fallen into the water in the dark, do you? I’d better go and get Hugh.’

  ‘Of course not. She’ll be fine. I’ll fetch Hugh, you go and see whether you can get anything out of Frances. She may know where Julia’s got to.’

  But Frances only cried and said she didn’t know where Julia had gone. As Phyllis came down the stairs, Hugh and Greville were in the hall, ready to go out and start looking for the girl: Venetia and the other guests were all standing by the drawing-room door, offering to help form a search party. Phyllis protested: the women were in evening shoes. Sarita came and put her hand on Phyllis’s arm. Hugh took charge. The men would split up, one group to go west towards the church around the bay while the others headed east. It would be better if the women stayed put, in case there was a telephone call or she came back. He went to find a torch.

  ‘There hadn’t been any cross words?’ Patricia asked Phyllis.

  ‘No, no, nothing,’ said Phyllis.

  Just then the headlights of a car flashed through the hall window. Phyllis rushed forward to the front door and out into the drive. Julia, head bowed, got out and her mother ran to embrace her. From the driver’s side came a man.

  ‘Eric! For heaven’s sake, what are you doing here?’ cried Hugh.

  ‘We didn’t like to telephone in case you hadn’t noticed she wasn’t at home,’ said Eric. ‘Thought it would be best to just bring her back, directly. No harm done.’

  Under the light of the hall it was evident that Julia had been weeping. There were black smudges like ash at the top of her cheeks. It took her mother a few moments to understand what the cause of these marks could be, before it came to her that her daughter had been wearing make-up. Looking at Julia more closely, she now saw that her daughter’s mouth was smudged with lipstick and that she was wearing a sundress, her shoulders exposed. Her hair was neat and there were no scratches on her bare arms, yet she produced a picture of dishevelment.

  ‘Come on, darling, let’s get you upstairs and into something warm,’ said Phyllis. It was such a relief that Julia was all right. She felt a rush of love and pity for her daughter. She put her arm around her and led her up.

  The dinner guests were all in the hall now, observing the scene with some curiosity.

  Pea-Brain spoke: ‘Thank you so much for a lovely evening.’

  The others took their cue and began to assemble themselves ready to leave. Only Patricia and Greville made no sign of departure.

  ‘It’s coming on a spot chillier now, of an evening,’ observed Eric cheerfully, to no one in particular.

  ‘Terribly nice that you could come,’ said Hugh to the backs of his departing guests.

  ‘Who is that funny little man?’ said Venetia’s sister, audibly.

  Once the dinner guests had gone and Phyllis had taken Julia out of the way, Hugh addressed Eric. ‘What on earth is going on? Turning up like this in the middle of dinner in front of all our friends with Julia dressed like someone going to an amusement park! We’ll be a laughing stock. It’s really too bad.’

  ‘He’s brought your daughter back safely, as you can see,’ said Greville. ‘A word of thanks might be in order.’

  ‘I’m sure no one will gossip,’ said Patricia. ‘We’ve all got children. Well, except Pea-Brain and that woman, whatever her name was.’

  ‘Venetia Gordon-Canning does nothing but make up stories about people. I daresay she’ll have told half the county that Julia came back half-naked with a strange man by tea-time tomorrow.’

  ‘Julia is safe, that’s the main thing,’ said Patricia.

  ‘It was just a stroke of luck that I went to the site this evening at all,’ said Eric.

  ‘Would you like something to drink?’ Greville offered, since Hugh had not. ‘It’s very good of you to have come out. You could have just told Hugh to come and fetch her.’

  ‘I’ll take a glass of whisky, yes, thank you,’ said Eric.

  Greville went into the drawing room and the other three followed. ‘I still don’t see how you came to find Julia,’ said Hugh.

  ‘Well, as you know, the camp has packed up, they’ve all gone now. But I thought it would be an idea just to nip down there, make sure the Leader’s hut is secure and in order and the place hasn’t been left too untidy. Just as well I did, because there was your daughter, bawling her eyes out. She’d fixed to meet up with one of the lads, Freddy. He’s the son of the chap who does the catering, bit of a heart-throb, or so they tell me. Apparently he’d told her he was staying on for a day or two. Anyhow.’

  ‘I think you must be mistaken,’ said Hugh.

  ‘I’m just reporting as I find,’ said Eric. ‘That’s what she told me and that’s all I’m telling you.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Patricia. ‘I’m sure this wouldn’t have happened if Phyllis had only got her a pony.’

  ‘Well, it can’t be helped now,’ said Greville.

  Hugh turned to Eric. ‘I have to say I wish your wife hadn’t insisted on involving my family in this wretched camping-ground business. Julia should never have been allowed to mix with people of that sort. Nina can be very overpowering and I do think she took advantage of Phyllis’s better nature.’

  Eric looked at Hugh mildly, without rancour.

  ‘What’s done is done. I don’t know what else your wife and kids would have found to do with themselves all summer. They’ve had some first-class entertainment and learnt a fair bit too: got themselves a political education.’

  ‘Only goats have kids. We have children,’ said Hugh.

  Eric smiled. ‘I should count yourself lucky the lad wasn’t there to meet her this evening. Could have been far worse if he’d kept his word.’

  ‘Are you implying that my daughter …’

  ‘Well, I think it’s time to call it a night, don’t you?’ Greville interrupted. ‘Eric? I’m afraid your car is blocking ours in, if it isn’t too much trouble.’

  ‘I’ll be getting along then,’ said Eric, standing. He put his half-finished whisky down on a side table. Hugh didn’t respond. He made no move as the three left, not opening the hall door to see them out nor stepping out on to the gravel driveway to watch them away. When his wife came down after settling Julia to bed, she found him still standing in the drawing room. Motionless with his arms by his sides, he suddenly looked his age.

  8. Sussex and Paris, autumn 1938

  Poor Julia had been made miserable enough by the disappointment and humiliation. Hugh had taken her into his study and closed the door behind them on the morning after the dinner, but Phyllis hadn’t had the heart to remonstrate with her. In any case, discipline had never been Phyllis’s strong suit. Julia surely would have learned her lesson, and anyway, no further opportunity for capers of this sort would arise once she was back at school. The routine and the better company of her school peers would do her good.

  Since the evening of the dinner party, relations with both her sisters had been rather chilly. Patricia seemed to be sulking, which was typical. She sometimes seemed to Phyllis to be one of those people who court umbrage, searching it out in corners, like cobwebs, where it was imperceptible to anyone else. She had muttered something about Hugh’s dreadful behaviour towards Greville, but beyond that Phyllis could not see why the matter was any business of Patricia’s at all. Nina by contrast had never been a sulker, but had always been the most fiery of the three of them. She had rung up the next day and given Phyllis the most terrific earful. Hugh had been unforgivably rude to Eric, she said, and in front of people: not just Patricia and Greville, but the county people Eric had to encounter at Party functions and meetings. It was really too bad. Eric had been kind enough to bring Julia home, and this was all the thanks he got for his troubles!

  Phyllis had hardly had a ch
ance to get a word in edgeways. Both her sisters laid the blame for Hugh’s behaviour at her door. Neither of them seemed to realize that her chief concern should be for her daughter.

  Hugh had given her a very different account of things. His view was that Eric and Nina had known full well that they had people to dine and, miffed at being excluded, had timed things so as to disrupt the evening as much as possible. Eric could easily have telephoned discreetly to let them know he had found Julia: it was quite unnecessary to make such a drama out of things and to bring her home when the house was full of their friends. It had shown them up in front of people, making such a theatrical entrance with poor, disgraced Julia. The girl was only half dressed! There was ample room at Nina’s house, the sensible thing would have been for the girl to stay the night there. Then she would have had time to calm down and collect herself before being picked up by her father the following morning. The fact that Eric and Nina hadn’t even taken the trouble to give Julia the chance to wash her face or put on some kind of coat or wrap was further grist to his mill.

  ‘I don’t know that the blame can be laid quite so squarely at their door,’ said Phyllis. ‘After all, it is Julia who started all this, by going out in secret to meet that wretched young man.’

  ‘I was getting round to that point,’ said Hugh. ‘She’d never have come into contact with a boy of that sort if she hadn’t been press-ganged into going to Nina’s bloody camp-site in the first place. I shouldn’t be surprised if Nina and Eric didn’t engineer the whole thing. They must be rubbing their hands with glee, to’ve made me a laughing stock in the county.’

 

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