Roses and Champange

by Neels, Betty

  ‘How very nice,’ she exclaimed, and meant it. ‘Would you like coffee, or perhaps a glass of sherry?’

  ‘Sherry, my dear. I read somewhere that the elderly benefit greatly from the judicious drinking of alcohol.’

  She accepted the generous glassful she was offered and sat back comfortably. ‘And is the date fixed?’ She wanted to know.

  ‘The date...? Oh, yes, of course—well, we haven’t decided yet.’

  ‘I can’t think why not, my dear. Lucius has a good home and money and a flourishing job, has he not? When do you go on this holiday?’

  ‘In just over a week.’

  ‘Of course, in my day such a thing was unheard of, but times have changed. Young people seem to consider marriage as a relatively unimportant thing.’ ‘I can assure you, Lady Ryder, that Lucius and I think it’s rather important.’

  Katrina offered more sherry and passed the little biscuits the old lady liked.

  ‘I wonder why he was so attracted to Virginia?’ mused Lady Ryder aloud. ‘Far too young for him, though I admit a very pretty girl. Which is more than you are, my dear, although you have style and charm, which I consider far more important.’

  Katrina finished her sherry and poured herself another; she felt she was going to need it. She had wondered so many times exactly the same thing, but unlike her guest, she hadn’t the pluck to ask him. It would be one of those annoying topics to be mutually ignored for ever and ever.

  ‘Virginia is pretty, isn’t she?’ she agreed in her pleasant voice. Tm so glad she’s happy with James, I think they’ll make a splendid couple.’

  ‘Fiddle!’ declared Lady Ryder sharply. ‘Young Lovell is one of the dullest young men I’ve ever met; I’m not saying that they won’t be happy, because he’ll do exactly what Virginia wants him to.’ She finished her sherry and helped herself to another biscuit. ‘I hope you and Lucius intend to have a family; there is no excuse for not doing so. The house is large and so is his income, he will be able to provide you with every conceivable comfort and have the children educated properly.’

  Katrina went bright pink, took a swallow of sherry and gasped. When she had finished coughing she said carefully: ‘It is a large house, isn’t it, but a very comfortable one. Children will fill it nicely.’

  Lady Ryder prepared to go. ‘I will be godmother to your first,’ she said in a tone of satisfaction. ‘But don’t leave it too long, Katrina. I am not as young as I was.’

  Katrina was left to digest this remark, standing in the porch after Lady Ryder had pecked her cheek in goodbye and got into her elderly car. She would dismiss all these silly ideas from her mind, she told herself briskly, and go for a good walk after lunch.

  She was just sitting down to this meal when she heard the front door open and Lovelace’s voice raised in welcoming tones. Lucius—and why had he come at such an awkward time? Bad news of someone in the village? Worse—something had happened to Virginia and James? She half rose from her chair as he came in on Lovelace’s heels.

  ‘I felt lonely,’ he said. ‘Will you invite me to lunch?’

  It was a bit of an anticlimax. ‘Yes, of course, Lovelace, please lay a place for Mr Lucius and ask Mrs Beecham if she could make another omelette.’

  Lovelace beamed. Mr Lucius was behaving exactly as a young man in love should, he considered. No one in the kitchen, nor for that matter his own staff at Stockley House, had entertained for one moment the possibility of his engagement to Miss Virginia, whatever everyone in the village had thought. Now Miss Katrina was quite a different kettle of fish; they had already started a whip-round in both houses for the wedding present.

  ‘And a bottle of that Sauternes Mr Lucius enjoys, Miss Katrina?’ he enquired, quite sure she would say yes.

  They dawdled over their meal, having their coffee at the table while Lucius drew neat little maps in his pocketbook of the area around Athens.

  ‘We could, of course, rush from here to there, sightseeing every minute of the day and remembering nothing afterwards. I think it’s a better idea if we keep to a small region and take our time. We can always go again.’

  Katrina ignored the last bit. Til have to do some reading. I don’t know one Greek god from the next, only I do want to see the Parthenon.’

  ‘And so you shall. We’ll drive out early in the morning before everyone else gets there. It’s magnificent. There are other temples just as fine, but most of them too far away, but we can go out to Sounion— stay there for a couple of days, if you like.’ He put down his coffee cup. ‘I must go—I’ve got the estate accounts to go over.’ He went to the door. ‘I’ll fetch you about seven o’clock.’

  There were a lot more people there than Katrina had expected, all old friends though and not a smart woman in sight. Aware that she looked her modest best in the brown velvet suit, she went the rounds, glass in hand, exchanging local gossip, answering with gentle vagueness when she was asked when she and Lucius planned to get married. ‘Of course, we all knew all along that you and Lucius would make a match of it, dear,’ declared Mrs Moffat fortunately with no one near enough to hear this artless piece of information. ‘I mean—so suitable; old family friends and knowing each other for a lifetime. You’ll enjoy your holiday together.’ She eyed Katrina specula-lively.

  ‘I’m told that Greece is very romantic,’ said Katrina gravely.

  After everyone had gone, they had dinner in the small room at the back of the hall and afterwards they sat round the drawing room fire, talking idly until Cobb came in with champagne in a bucket, followed by one of the maids with a tray of glasses. For many years now it had been customary for everyone at Stockley House to assemble in the drawing room and toast the New Year. Just before midnight they came in, one by one, led by Cobb and strictly in order of seniority, to stand in a semi-circle, glass in hand, while Cobb stood poised ready to open the champagne. He knew exactly the right moment. With the first stroke of Big Ben he had the first bottle opened and was filling Katrina’s glass and then Lucius’s and then everyone else’s in the room. He was ready with his glass in his hand as the last note of midnight struck and presently led his colleagues in good wishes and handshakes all round. Katrina standing beside Lu-cius, envied him his easy good manners, saying just the right thing to everyone as he shook their hands. She could think of nothing more original to say than, ‘A Happy New Year,’ to each of them.

  It wasn’t until they had all gone again, carrying the empty bottles and glasses with them, that Lucius bent to kiss her. ‘And a happy new year to you, my dear,’ he said lightly. He had wished her that in precisely the same fashion for years now; even his kiss was a brotherly peck.

  She said brightly: ‘And to you, Lucius.’ She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  He drove her back presently, going into the house with her but not stopping more than a few minutes. ‘I must go up to town in the morning,’ he told her, and she waited for him to offer her a lift as he often did. But this time he didn’t. There would be no offices open, he wouldn’t be going to do any work. It would be the lovely blonde, she supposed unhappily, the someone particular he had known for some time. She was amazed at the wild ideas streaming through her head; to go to London too and watch where he went, see this girl, find out where she lived, what she did. She was appalled at herself; if this was being in love then the quicker really she reverted to being Lucius’s old Mend the better. She wished him goodnight without mentioning his visit to London and watched the car going down the drive. If only she could meet someone—a man who would fall for her hook, line and sinker, and Lucius could return home to find him glued to her side. It wouldn’t make any difference to Lucius’s feelings, of course, but what a splendid boost it would give her downtrodden pride. It was a pity, but she couldn’t think of a single man of her acquaintance who would fill the bill. There was no such man, she decided gloomily.

  But there was. She met him the very next morning.

  Chapter 7

  Katrina had gone through
the kitchen gardens and out through the wicket gate into the field beyond, Bouncer racing ahead, when she saw a man walking towards her. He paused as Bouncer paused too and growled, and she called: ‘It’s all right, he won’t do anything unless I tell him to. You’re trespassing.’

  He came nearer and she was able to see that he was quite young, a little above middle height, with dark hair and eyes. ‘So sorry,’ he said easily. ‘I’m lost— I’m staying a day or two with the Merediths. My name is Johnson—Pete Johnson.’

  The Merediths lived in the next village, she knew them slightly. She smiled and said: ‘You’re about four miles from home, then. I’m Katrina Gibson, and I know the Merediths. I’m just going back for coffee, would you like cup?’

  He beamed at her. ‘Rather! I’m dog tired, if you must know—spend my days in the city and never walk more than twenty yards at a time. ‘Go for a walk,’ they said, ‘and be back for lunch.’ I was lost within the first half hour!’

  Katrina laughed. ‘It’s easy to take a wrong turning.’ She had turned and was walking beside him and presently ushered him through the wicket gate past Old John’s disapproving stare, into the kitchen gardens and across the lawn to the house.

  ‘Nice place,’ commented her companion, pausing to take in its pleasant exterior. ‘How comfortably Regency folk lived, didn’t they?’

  ‘I suppose so. I’ve never lived anywhere else.’

  He glanced at her. ‘Lucky you. You’re married, of course?’

  It was impossible to take offence at his friendly tone. ‘No, not yet—just engaged.’

  ‘And you’ll give up all this...?’

  ‘Yes.’ She turned and pointed to Stockley House, standing very stately among the bare winter trees a mile away. ‘I’ll be there instead.’

  ‘I say, that’s some place, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s very nice,’ said Katrina sedately. ‘Come on in and have that coffee.’

  Lovelace came to meet her as they went indoors. ‘This is a friend of Mr Meredith’s who got lost out walking,’ she told him. ‘He’s going to have coffee before he starts back.’

  Lovelace inclined his head in disapproving civility. ‘Yes, Miss Katrina. There was a telephone call from Mr Lucius. He asked if you would telephone him at your convenience.’

  ‘Thanks, Lovelace.’ She turned to her guest. ‘Take off your coat, it’s warm indoors.’ And when he had done so and they were sitting in the drawing room: ‘Are you just a friend of the Merediths or a relation?’ She added apologetically: ‘I don’t know them very well.’

  ‘A nephew—a distant one, though. I’ve not been to their house before. It’s pleasant in these parts.’

  They talked idly while they had coffee, not noting the gradual darkening of the room until Katrina exclaimed: ‘My goodness, it’s snowing—who’d have thought it!’ She went to a window and peered out, ‘You’ll never get back in this, you’ll have to stay for lunch. Give the Merediths a ring and just as soon as it clears I’ll run you back in the car.’

  She didn’t listen to his protests. ‘I’ll be glad of your company,’ she told him, and wished fleetingly that Lucius would walk in and find her entertaining this nice young man.

  The snow didn’t stop. It was long after lunch time and they were drinking their coffee round the fire, the best of friends, when Katrina glanced out of a window and saw that the sky was clearing and there was no more snow.

  It was only as she was getting into the car that she remembered that she hadn’t telephoned Lucius. It couldn’t have been urgent or he would have rung again. She waved at Lovelace, standing austerely in the porch and started down the front drive. She was almost at the gate when the Bentley turned in from the lane and passed her. She had a glimpse of Lu-cius’s face as she slid past him. He looked cross, a fact her companion remarked upon. ‘I say, what a bad-tempered bloke in that Bentley—a mouth like a rat-trap and eyes like grey rock. Shouldn’t like to get on the wrong side of him!’

  Katrina negotiated the turn into the lane with care. ‘My fiance’,’ she said calmly, and added: ‘I quite forgot to give him a ring.’

  ‘Oh, lord! I say, shall we go back so that I can explain—apologise...’

  ‘Certainly not. It’s not in the least your fault, and by the time I’m back he’ll have forgotten all about it.’

  She was aware that this was wishful thinking on her part. Probably Lucius would be coldly sarcastic, downright nasty in fact. Serve him right for going to London so often. Two could play at that game, she told herself hearteningly.

  It was a short drive to the Merediths’ house, she could have been back home again in half an hour, but she allowed herself to be persuaded to stay for tea, and since Mrs Meredith was a chatty type who had a great deal to say about everything and everybody, half an hour stretched into an hour. Katrina made her excuses at last, made a half promise to see Peter again before he went back and edged her way out of the room, with her hostess, still talking about the Hunt Ball, beside her. ‘And you’re going to marry Lucius Massey, are you not, my dear? So very suitable—two old local families, you know. We shall look forward to the wedding.’

  Katrina got into the car and drove home through the rapidly darkening afternoon. For some reason she was feeling peevish, perhaps because she disliked being considered suitable. Suitable for what? She brought the car to an untidy halt beside the Bentley. So Lucius was still waiting for her, was he? She went into the house prepared to be met with an icy stare and his most chilling voice.

  When she went into the sitting room he was sitting by the fire, his long legs stretched out comfortably, a tea tray on the table beside him, the epitome of comfort and ease. He got up as she went in. ‘Lovelace was kind enough to give me tea—you don’t mind?’

  ‘No, of course not. Why should I? He’s been giving you meals in this house for as long as I can remember.’

  His fine mouth twitched. ‘Indeed yes. You spent a pleasant afternoon, I hope? The snow was unexpected. Local too, nothing the other side of Oxford.’

  She sat down and he resumed his comfortable sprawl, content, it seemed, to say nothing more. After a minute or two Katrina said crossly: ‘Why did you want me to phone you?’ She added: ‘I forgot.’

  ‘Naturally. I managed to get tickets for that new show—the one we were talking about the other day.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Unfortunately it starts at half past seven and it’s now almost six o’clock.’ Katrina had forgotten that she was annoyed. ‘Lucius how lovely! I’ll fly into something, we can be away in fifteen minutes—we might just do it.’

  He looked at her, his eyes hard. ‘Unfortunately,’ he said blandly, ‘I thought it was unlikely that you’d be free this evening, so I cancelled the seats.’

  She stared at him. ‘You what? You never...’

  ‘Your grammar is appalling,’ he told her, and added with a smugness which made her boil: ‘Such a pity to waste them when there are so many people wanting to see the show.’

  He sat back watching her, and she felt exactly as she used to feel when she was a small girl who had been in mischief and had rushed to tell him about it. Most of the time it had been her own fault, and Lucius had sat looking at her until she admitted that. Once she had, his sympathy was boundless.

  She said defiantly: ‘He’s a nephew of the Merediths, staying with them. He was out walking and got lost—he was in the top field. I asked him back for coffee and we—we talked.’ With sudden fierceness she added: ‘He was nice—he didn’t stare at me as though I was half-witted or look at my clothes as though they were all wrong...’ She stopped appalled, for she hadn’t meant a word of it.

  ‘Meaning what?’ asked Lucius quietly.

  It seemed best to take no notice of his question. ‘It snowed and I said I’d drive him back when it stopped, and I did.’

  ‘The beginning of a beautiful friendship?’ asked Lucius chattily.

  ‘You are mean...’

  ‘Nasty, vulgar, arrogant? Come off it, Katie, you’re as
green as grass when it comes to men, and if an old friend isn’t allowed to keep an eye on you, who is?’

  She thought sorrowfully that an old friend was all he was ever likely to be. ‘I’m quite capable of looking after myself,’ she told him with dignity.

  ‘Is he staying long?’ asked Lucius casually. ‘You might take him round a bit.’

  ‘He did suggest that we met again. There’s a week before we go away, isn’t there, and it’s always a bit dull for a little while after Christmas.’

  ‘A very sound idea,’ said Lucius smoothly, and she glanced at him suspiciously. He was displaying a volte-face she didn’t quite like. But they seldom stayed bad friends for long: they sat comfortably by the fire talking until Lovelace came in to enquire if Mr Lucius would be staying to dinner.

  ‘No,’ said Katrina sunnily, remembering his bad temper, ‘he won’t. And I’ll have mine on a tray, Lovelace. I’m going to work in the studio this evening.’

  Lucius remained unmoved by this lack of hospitality. ‘A drink before I go?’ he asked mildly. She gave him a whisky and helped herself to sherry.

  ‘Another commission?’ he asked pleasantly.

  She frowned down at her glass. ‘Not exactly—just some ideas I want to try out.’

  He heaved himself out of his chair. ‘Riding tomorrow?’ he wanted to know. ‘I have to go over to the Home Farm again.’ He added casually: ‘You’ll be back in plenty of time to spend the day with your new friend.’

  ‘There you are, being beastly again!’ burst out Katrina. ‘Anyone would think you were jealous!’

  She could have bitten out her tongue the moment she had said it.

  ‘But of course I am,’ he agreed equably. ‘You are, to all intents and purposes, my fiance^.’ He sauntered to the door. ‘Goodnight, my dear, don’t work too hard at those ideas of yours.’