by Laura Wood
“And how is Caitlin going to find out?” I ask sharply.
“A little bird might tell her,” Robert replies innocently.
I scowl. “You look like a pretty big bird to me.”
“I certainly won’t tell her if you don’t want me to,” Robert says slowly.
“Good,” I say.
“Of course…” He trails off.
“What?” I ask suspiciously.
“If Caitlin found out after the fact, that you hadn’t told her about your birthday, she’d be upset.” He stops and looks me right in the eye. “Very upset. And –” he lifts a finger “– if she found out that I knew about your birthday and didn’t tell her, she would make my life … uncomfortable.” He sighs heavily. “But if you still don’t want me to say anything, I suppose I can keep it to myself.”
“Fine,” I huff. “You can tell her, but please don’t let her do anything too over the top.”
Robert laughs. “I’m sorry, have you met my sister?! I can tell her, but I think you’d better brace yourself. Once she’s got an idea in her head there’s no getting rid of it.”
I grumble a little at this, but even I know that I am being ungrateful. I’m just not sure that a party for me is such a good idea. I love the Cardews’ parties, but the thought of being at the centre of one of them is a little overwhelming. That’s precisely why I kept my birthday a secret in the first place. I know where I am happiest, and it is somewhere between watching from a tree branch and being the star. When I first appeared at the Cardew House I was something of a novelty and that made me uncomfortable, disposable, but – thanks to my innate dullness – the shine seemed to wear off pretty quickly and most people lost interest in me as I became part of the furniture. Not the Cardews, though, nor their immediate circle. I could have been discarded after a week or two – I was under no illusions about that, as I saw it happen to others who came and went – but for some reason I have been admitted to their group. I still can’t really believe it, but I am their friend. It is an exhilarating, addictive thing, especially when I am more used to being grudgingly included in things as “Alice’s sister”.
“Seems like you’ve won over the whole Trevelyan clan,” I say then, changing the subject.
“I had a lot of fun,” Robert says, walking on again, his hands clasped behind his back. “Your family are very nice.”
“Oh, yes,” I agree, rolling my eyes. “When they’re not driving me mad they’re an absolute delight.”
He smiles a little at this, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well, I think you’re lucky,” he says, and if I didn’t know better, I would think his voice is almost wistful. “It must be nice having a big family.”
“It is,” I say carefully. “But you have Caitlin.”
“Yes,” and the word is an exhalation. “I have Caitlin.”
We have reached the beach now, and the causeway stretches out across the sand, back to the house. Even now that I am spending so much time there, my heart aches a little at the sight of it.
“So, remind me, who’s coming for dinner tonight?” I ask.
Robert sighs. “Oh, just some people from town. It’s going to be terribly dull. Why don’t you join us?”
I laugh. “Thank you very much; who could resist an invitation like that?”
“It will be a lot less dull if you’re there,” Robert says, and even though it is perfectly innocent, the words hang between us, just for a second, as if they mean something more. And then, just as quickly as it appeared, the moment is gone.
“I’ve only just left,” I say lightly. “But don’t worry, I’m coming back tomorrow to beat you at cards.”
“Because you cheat at cards,” Robert replies automatically.
“No one needs to resort to cheating to beat you, Robert Cardew.”
“Bye, Lou.” His voice is firm, blithely ignoring my dig, and he turns and walks down the causeway. “See you tomorrow,” he calls over his shoulder.
“Goodbye, Robert,” I shout after him, and I stand for a moment on the beach, watching him disappear towards the big house, before I turn to make my own way home.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
When I arrive the next day it is pretty much as expected.
Caitlin is already waiting for me by the front door when I turn up. The light in her eyes is militant. “Lou, you absolute wretch!” she exclaims, grabbing my arm and shaking me a little. “I cannot believe that you didn’t tell me … ME, your dearest, most devoted friend, about your birthday.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I say, rubbing my arm. “I didn’t want to make a fuss.”
“Is it or is it not your eighteenth birthday?” Caitlin asks crisply, turning on her heel.
“It is,” I sigh, following her into the house.
“Aha! So you admit it!” Caitlin whirls around to face me, her long cigarette holder pointed at me accusingly as if she is Hercule Poirot himself.
“I never denied it is my birthday next week,” I say patiently. “You didn’t ask. I just didn’t … make you aware of it.”
Caitlin looks at me through narrowed eyes. “And why not?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I didn’t want you to think I expected anything…” I trail off.
Caitlin snorts. “Louise,” she drawls in a low, slow voice as though explaining things to a simpleton, “you are our dear friend. It is your birthday … and your eighteenth birthday, at that. Of course we’re going to make a fuss.”
We enter the drawing room where Robert is sitting, smoking a cigarette and reading a book.
“I told you so,” he says, getting to his feet, as he does whenever I enter the room.
Caitlin inhales on her cigarette and makes her way over to the bar, where she tops up her glass with a generous splash of something clear. I very much doubt it is water, and she knocks it back in one quick mouthful.
“Of course, you haven’t given me a lot of time…” she says, staring into the middle distance. “However.” Her eyes snap on to me and a smile begins to spread across her face, one that makes me feel decidedly nervous. “I think I may have an idea for something truly spectacular.”
“As opposed to all the other parties you’ve been having?” I ask, tucking my feet underneath me.
“Oh.” Caitlin waves one hand in the air. “Those things? No, those are more like gatherings, really. This, this will absolutely be the event of the summer.”
“Caitlin,” I say warily.
“Yes, Caitlin,” Robert echoes, and his voice is a warning. “Please don’t go wild.”
“Oh, hush.” Caitlin pouts. “You know perfectly well that we always host the biggest party at the end of the summer in London. It’s tradition, and everyone looks forward to it. Everything about it has to be completely, utterly perfect.” I don’t like the reminder that we are approaching the end of the summer, that this will all be gone too soon. My birthday is starting to feel like the beginning of the end rather than something to be celebrated.
Robert sighs, but looking at Caitlin’s animated face, his expression visibly softens.
“But—” I begin, determined I’m going to have my say.
“Yes, yes, darling,” Caitlin says sweetly, dismissing me with a wave of her hand. “Robert already told me. You don’t want all eyes on you, and I’ve found a way around that.” She shivers then, as though possessed by some intoxicating secret, and her eyes have taken on a lustrous shine. “And a truly delicious one at that.”
“Well, are you going to keep us in suspense, or are you going to tell us?” Robert asks, stubbing out his cigarette in the heavy glass ashtray beside him.
“I don’t know,” Caitlin says petulantly. “I don’t think either of you are being very enthusiastic about my brilliant idea.”
“Yes, we are,” I say, and my eyes meet Robert’s.
“So enthusiastic,” he says obediently, with all the enthusiasm of a rock.
Caitlin looks at us both for a moment and
pauses dramatically, her hands stretched out in front of her. “A masquerade!” she exclaims finally, clapping her hands together like a child at the theatre.
“A masquerade?” I repeat.
“Yes!” She sits down on the sofa beside me and takes one of my hands. Her eyes really are very bright and I can smell the alcohol that she has just drunk on her breath, sweet and sharp at the same time. “It’s perfect,” she continues. “We’ll have a costume party, and everyone will wear masks. You won’t be the centre of attention because you’ll be incognito.” She sits back with a look of great satisfaction her face. “Plus, people always behave absolutely terribly when they wear masks.” Her voice is gleeful. “It’s so much fun.” She looks about expectantly as if waiting for a round of applause.
“It does sound quite exciting,” I say cautiously, turning the idea over in my mind.
“Oh, now Lou thinks it sounds exciting … now that she knows people are going to behave badly,” Caitlin teases. “Is there anyone in particular that you would like to be badly behaved with?”
As if on cue, the door opens and Charlie appears. Caitlin dissolves into giggles as he stands in the doorway looking bemused.
“What did I miss?” he asks.
Despite my protests to the contrary, Caitlin remains convinced that I have a thumping great crush on Charlie. Sometimes I wish she was right. Although his good looks alone are almost enough to turn my knees to water, my initial impression of Charlie proved to be correct. He is sweet, good-natured and gorgeous, but he is also absolutely dull. Trust me, there’s nothing that will kill a burgeoning infatuation dead quicker than having to spend thirty minutes listening to the endless list of attributes necessary in the perfect trout bait.
“You didn’t miss anything,” I say to Charlie now. “Caitlin is just happy because she’s planning a party.”
Charlie comes into the room and sits in one of the chairs, his legs crossed. “When is Caitlin ever not planning a party?” he asks, reaching into his pocket for his cigarette case.
“This is a special party,” Caitlin says gleefully, nudging me with her elbow. “This is for Lou’s birthday!”
“Is that so?” Charlie’s voice is mild as he lights his cigarette and lifts it to his lips. “Well, many happy returns,” he says.
“It’s not until next week,” I reply.
“What’s not until next week?” Laurie has arrived. Both men get to their feet, and so do I, so that I can accept a warm kiss on each cheek. Laurie always greets me as though we haven’t seen each other for months.
“What’s not until next week?” Laurie repeats once we are all sitting down again and she has made sure that Robert is fixing drinks.
“Lou’s birthday,” Charlie says.
“And we’re having a party!” Caitlin exclaims.
“It’s not a big thing,” I mutter, but Laurie ignores me.
“What kind of a party?” she asks, as Robert places a whisky and soda in her hand. She wraps her fingers around his wrist and gives it a little squeeze in thanks.
“I was thinking a costume party,” Caitlin says, then she lowers her voice so that it is almost a whisper. “With masks.”
Laurie nods, taking a sip of her drink. “That could work,” she says, and a slow, Cheshire-cat grin spreads across her face. “All bets are off when people wear masks. They go crazy.”
“Just what I said,” Caitlin agrees with some satisfaction.
“But can you pull it together in under a week?” Laurie frowns. “There’s so much to do.”
“Oh, I don’t want you to go to too much trouble…” I start, but Robert leans over the back of the sofa, interrupting.
“I wouldn’t bother,” he says to me. “Those two are in planning mode now. You’re not going to get any sense out of either of them.” He hands me a glass, a soda water bubbling furiously over ice cubes. The glass is heavy, beautifully engraved. Suddenly, I have the overwhelming urge to wrap my fingers around his hand, as Laurie did. I can almost feel his warm skin tingling beneath my touch. Instead I bury my flushed face in my glass.
“Thank you,” I murmur, my heart thumping irregularly. What is wrong with me?
“Of course I can pull it together,” Caitlin is saying. “It will be perfect. Every single detail will be absolutely perfect.”
“Caitlin,” her brother says again, and his voice is a gentle warning. “Don’t take on too much –”
“Psssh.” Caitlin dismisses him with a wave of her hand. “It will be a true Cardew event, just like Mother and Father used to have here. Perfect.” Her eyes are glittering, enormous in her thin face.
I see a frown flicker across Robert’s brow. It’s the first time I’ve heard Caitlin talk about her mother at all, but the moment passes quickly and then Caitlin and Laurie are talking about colour schemes.
“Will Lucky’s band be available to play, do you think?” Laurie asks.
“Oh, yes,” I say, turning my face away from Robert. Lucky’s band haven’t played here since that first party, but I still remember how wonderful they sounded. I think I could get on board with the party if I knew that they were playing.
Caitlin’s smile remains, but it seems to dim, just a fraction, as it has occasionally in the past when she thought no one was watching. Perhaps it’s my imagination. No one else seems to notice, but I feel my pulse quicken.
“I don’t know,” she says, and she fidgets with the bangles on her wrist. “They’re pretty booked up these days.”
“It’s your own fault for bringing them into fashion,” Laurie drawls.
“You really shot yourself in the foot there,” Charlie puts in cheerily.
“Hmm.” Caitlin is non-committal, still focused on her bracelets. She won’t meet my eye, and I wonder what I would find there if she did.
“Well, perhaps Elodie could be persuaded…” Charlie begins, but he is interrupted by a light knock at the door, and Laurie surges to her feet. The movement is graceful, but the speed is out of character. Her face lights up, eager.
“Speak of the devil!” Charlie exclaims.
I turn questioningly to Caitlin, who opens her mouth to explain, but before she can do so Laurie pulls the door open.
Standing on the other side is a remarkable-looking woman. The vibrant red of her dress highlights the deep bronze of her skin, and her soft, dark hair is coiled on top of her head. She is not exactly beautiful, but extremely striking. She’s slight, small, even, but she radiates a self-assurance that seems to occupy a lot of space. A smile curls upon her lips as she looks around the room.
Laurie appears at her side and takes her hand. “The only person you haven’t met is Lou,” Laurie says, and she gives Elodie a little push forward. “Lou, this is one of my dearest friends, Elodie Marchant. She arrived this afternoon, but she’s been resting.” Laurie’s eyes glow. “Elodie is visiting for a little while, from Paris.”
Elodie leans towards me and places her hands at the top of my arms before delivering the two kisses on each cheek like a blessing. She smells like heavy, dark red roses.
“Lou,” she says, and her voice is deeper than I expected. “It is so good to meet you, finally. Laurie has talked about you in her letters.”
“I can’t imagine Laurie taking the time to write letters to anyone,” I say without thinking, and Elodie hoots with laughter. It’s true, though, Laurie is kind and generous, but she’s also catlike – elegant and languid, more likely to throw a comment into someone else’s letter than to make the effort to write one herself.
“Bien sûr,” she says. “Laurie said you were a sharp one.”
Lively chatter fills the air, as Caitlin and Charlie catch up on Elodie’s news. In the shuffling of seats Robert has ended up sitting next to me.
“Caitlin and I have met Elodie a few times,” he says in a low voice. “I think you’ll like her. She’s a terrific musician.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Caitlin asks, and I jump as though I have been caught doing some
thing I shouldn’t.
“Robert was just telling me that Elodie is a musician,” I blurt.
Elodie nods. “Yes, indeed.” Her hands flutter by her side, and she straightens the hem of her dress. “I am a singer.”
“She’s wonderful.” Charlie’s voice is full of admiration.
“They call her Alouette,” Laurie puts in. “It means Lark. She’s a perfect little songbird.”
“You must sing at Lou’s party!” Caitlin sits forward and claps her hands. “I see now that is what Charlie was going to suggest before you arrived, Elodie!”
“But of course,” Elodie agrees graciously, with a dip of her head. “I would love to.”
“It’s Lou’s birthday next week,” Laurie explains. “Caitlin is going to host a masquerade.”
Elodie’s eyes light up. “Perfect,” she breathes. “A masquerade is always so exciting, no?”
“So I keep hearing,” I reply warily, as the others dissolve into laughter.
The subject changes and Elodie and Caitlin begin discussing the newest French fashions.
“That reminds me,” Laurie interrupts here, “what are we going to do about clothes for the party?” She pauses thoughtfully. “You know, I have something amazing on order in London that would be just perfect. Perhaps I can send the driver for it?”
“Well, I have nothing,” Caitlin says decisively. “Absolutely nothing. I’ve been practically living in rags as it is.”
Having spent a lot of time in Caitlin’s room, rifling around in her enormous walk-in wardrobe full of extremely beautiful clothes, I think this is something of an overstatement. Laurie, however, is nodding sympathetically.
“This is what happens when you spend an extended period out here in the sticks.” She looks at me and raises her glass. “Not that it doesn’t have its benefits, of course, sugar.”
Caitlin is tapping her cheek thoughtfully. “Of course you’re right,” she says finally. “And it’s not just the clothes. There will be so much to organize. And we’ll have to get the word out to make sure we draw a big crowd. It’s quite late in the day to throw something spectacular together.”