by Lynn Austin
“Do you like your courses?”
“I suppose. Now that I’ve picked up the basics, I find the classes a little boring. The only point of them now is for me to learn to type faster and with fewer mistakes. And I hate sitting inside all day.”
“You always did prefer roaming the woods,” Audrey said with a smile. “Do you have a roommate?”
“Three of them. From my school. We share an attic room in a boardinghouse, close enough to walk to class every day.” She sipped her tea, remembering how Audrey had taught her to hold the cup and saucer properly. “How about you, Audrey? Do you still get homesick for Wellingford like you did at your last boarding school?”
“A little. And like you, I also find school boring. I’m learning French, reading English literature, and improving my skills on the piano, but most of our time is spent learning to attract a husband and be a dutiful wife. They don’t put it that bluntly, of course.”
Eve wanted to laugh but Audrey didn’t appear to be joking. “You look smashing, Audrey,” she said instead. “I like the way your hair is fixed.”
“It looks like you bought some new clothes, too.”
“Mum took me shopping for skirts and sweaters so I’ll look smart when I go for job interviews.” Eve took a few more sips of her tea. It had barely cooled enough to drink and they already had run out of things to talk about. “King George has been on the throne since before we were born,” Eve said, remembering what brought her here. “I came to ask Mum to go to the funeral procession with me, but she can’t get away. Do you think you’ll go?”
“I hadn’t thought about it. I only just heard the news.”
“I feel like I should go. It’s such a meaningful event. Once in a lifetime and all that.” On a whim, Eve added, “Come with me, Audrey. Let’s watch it together.”
She tilted her head as she considered the idea. Once again, the old Audrey broke through the cool exterior. “Yes, let’s. I do think I’d like to go.”
It took Eve a moment to react to her surprising reply. “Super! I’ll find out the processional route from the newspaper and figure out a good place for us to stand.”
“Shall I ask Williams to drive us?”
“There will be thousands of people, Audrey. We’ll never get anywhere near the route in a car.”
“I expect you’re right.”
They settled on a plan to take the Underground, and Eve quickly finished her tea, deciding she should leave before Audrey changed her mind—or Lady Rosamunde appeared and put an end to their plans. “Make sure you dress warm. It’ll be cold outside.”
Eve fetched her own coat from the hall tree and headed out the front door without waiting for the butler. She nearly collided with a young gentleman bounding up the steps just as she was leaving.
He caught her in his arms and held her for a moment. “Whoa! What’s your hurry?” he asked, laughing. “The town house isn’t on fire, is it?”
“No. I’m so sorry.” He held her shoulders as if she needed to be steadied. She caught a whiff of his scent, a rich, spicy aroma that reminded her of leather armchairs and warm rum by a fireplace. They hadn’t collided very hard, but he was so impressively lordly that Eve couldn’t seem to breathe.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Eve . . . Eve Dawson.” She didn’t need to ask who he was—Audrey’s brother, Alfie. He was very tall, like his father, and had the same strong, patrician nose and jaw. Alfie could have been the model for a bust of someone famous like Alexander the Great or Julius Caesar.
“Hello, Eve Dawson. You must be a friend of Audrey’s.”
“Yes. We were just visiting.”
“I’m Audrey’s brother, Alfie, and I’m pleased to meet you.” He swept off his hat and his thick shock of hair was the same amber color as his sister’s. He looked every bit the gentleman, even dressed in casual tweeds, and was certainly the most refined man she’d ever talked to—if you could call her nervous stammering talking.
“Y-yes, I know . . . I mean . . . I figured you were. I’ve seen—” She stopped herself before saying she had glimpsed him from behind the servants’ door at Wellingford Hall.
“I hope you aren’t in a hurry to leave. I would love to have a cup of tea and get to know you,” he said. Before Eve could reply, Audrey appeared in the doorway.
“Alfie! Welcome home, darling brother!” Audrey took his hands as he leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “Are you home because of King George’s funeral?”
“Yes, for a few days. I just invited your beautiful friend for tea. You’re not going to keep her all to yourself, are you, Audrey?”
“Your beautiful friend.” His words sent a wave of warmth through Eve. She longed to follow him into the house, simply for the novelty of observing his gentlemanly manners up close and listening to the smooth way he spoke. But Audrey seemed annoyed. She wanted her brother all to herself. “Sorry, but I must be going. Maybe another time?” Eve forced herself to turn away and stroll out to the street, looking both ways as she pretended to search for a taxicab. She would walk to the corner and take the Underground as soon as Alfie closed the door.
Eve had taken only a few steps when she felt Alfie’s hand on her shoulder. “Eve, wait! I would like your telephone number, if you don’t mind. I would very much like to see you again.”
“Very much . . .” “I . . . I would, too . . . I would like to see you, too, that is.”
He held her gaze as he rummaged inside his jacket and produced a small address book and fountain pen. He handed them to her. Eve couldn’t move.
“Did you forget your number . . . ?” he asked, laughing.
“No, I didn’t forget.” A pleasant wave of warmth spread through her again as she printed the number. “I live in a . . . a flat . . . with some other girls.” She was ashamed to admit it was a boardinghouse. “Everyone runs to grab the telephone the moment it rings, so make sure you ask for me.”
“Oh, I will! Goodbye, Eve Dawson.” He grinned and disappeared into the town house.
Eve arrived at the town house a little before ten. Audrey watched her glance around the foyer and peer into the front room as if searching for an umbrella she’d left behind. “Do you think your brother would like to come with us?” Eve asked as the butler helped Audrey with her coat.
“I can’t imagine that he would.” Nor could Audrey imagine what Alfie had said to Eve the other day after following her down the sidewalk. He’d been very cagey about it. Audrey didn’t know why, but the fact that he and Eve had met at all was unsettling, as if the two people she felt closest to shouldn’t be allowed to cross paths. But that was absurd, of course.
She and Eve walked part of the way from the town house in the wintry cold, then took the Underground. It was Audrey’s first time to ride the subterranean trains, and she found them horribly crowded and noisy. They walked some more until reaching the parade route, where thousands of silent spectators lined the rain-slicked street, densely packed together and bundled against the chill. Eve towed Audrey down the middle of the empty, closed-off avenue toward Hyde Park Corner, and when a policeman on horseback shooed them out of the road, they ended up in the front row with a perfect view of the procession. “Well, that was a clever move,” Audrey said. Eve simply grinned.
Audrey hadn’t expected to be awestruck by the somber splendor of the king’s funeral procession, but she was. In spite of the cold, she was glad she’d agreed to come. She would long remember this day with the banner-draped coffin perched on a gun carriage, the imperial crown, orb, and scepter on top. The queen and princesses, wearing black, rode in a gilded coach, while the new king and his three brothers, the Dukes of York, Gloucester, and Kent, walked behind the casket. Endless lines of uniformed men saluted their monarch for the final time. Aside from the sounds of distant bagpipes and ringing bells and hundreds of feet marching in step, the funeral procession was silent as people paid their last respects to King George V.
“Do you ever think about dying?” Eve
asked after the procession passed and the crowd began to break up.
“I can’t say that I do. I’ve never known anyone who died until now. I’ve never even been to a funeral. Have you?”
“Sure—several of them. Including my granny Maud’s.” Eve spoke the name with reverence. And love. She lowered her eyes for a moment, then looked up again and linked arms with Audrey. “So we won’t get separated,” she said as they surged toward the Underground with the rest of the crowd. “Whenever someone in our village died,” Eve explained as they walked, “everyone would leave school or stop working and go to the funeral. The vicar always made heaven sound like such a wonderful place that you almost envied the dead person. I guess King George is up there now, too.” Eve pointed to the gray, low-hanging sky.
Audrey envied Eve for having been raised in a community that grieved together. Who, besides Alfie and her parents, would attend Audrey’s funeral if she were to die? “Do you believe we go to heaven after we die?” she asked.
“Of course! Doesn’t everybody?”
“I know very little about heaven. It certainly isn’t part of the curriculum at my girls’ school. Nor have my parents or Miss Blake spoken much about it. Father took Alfie and me to church on special occasions like Christmas and Easter.”
“I know. I used to see you there. The whole village would start whispering whenever you walked in.”
Audrey was afraid to ask what they had whispered about.
They slowed as they approached the entrance to the Underground and the crowd had to file down the narrow stairs. Audrey couldn’t bear the thought of being jammed together with so many people. “Maybe we should take a taxi instead.”
“Ha! Everyone in London is looking for a taxi,” Eve said. “But my boardinghouse isn’t far. We could walk there and wait until the streets clear.”
“At least we’ll be out of the cold.” Audrey didn’t have anywhere else she needed to be. Her coat might have been fashionable, but it wasn’t keeping out the January chill, and her silk stockings did nothing at all to keep her legs warm. They walked for what seemed like miles and finally arrived on a block of shabby brick row houses on a narrow back street.
“This is home,” Eve said, leading Audrey up the steps and through the door. She towed her into a front room with dusty knickknacks, a threadbare Turkish rug, a pair of overstuffed chairs, and a worn chintz sofa. The fire in the grate had burned low, but the room felt warm compared to the wintry temperatures outside. Eve sank onto one of the chairs, rubbing her hands together to warm them. Audrey sat down on the sofa and removed her kid gloves. “I’ve been thinking,” Eve said. “Whenever someone in our village died, we would mourn their passing at church. But after the burial, everyone gathered at the deceased’s home or in the pub to celebrate his life. We should do something to celebrate King George’s life.”
Audrey felt another prickle of envy. When had she ever felt a sense of belonging? Or celebration? “What do you suggest?” she asked.
“Do you like to dance? There’s a little dance hall nearby where my friends and I sometimes go to have a good time and maybe meet some boys.” When Audrey didn’t reply right away, Eve laughed. “You probably only know the waltz and all those other ballroom dances, right?”
What was it about Eve that always made Audrey feel prissy and stiff? She longed to enjoy life as much as Eve did, to try new things. This time her envy inspired her to action. “I’m willing to learn if you’ll teach me. Let’s do it, Eve. Let’s go dancing tonight.”
Eve leaned toward her, staring as if to see if Audrey was joking. When she saw that she wasn’t, she jumped to her feet and offered Audrey her hand. “Come on, let’s go up to my room and change clothes. You can borrow some of mine this time. They’ll know you’re not one of us if you’re dressed like that.”
Once Audrey got used to the dim, smoky dance hall with its loud music and boisterous patrons, she was surprised to find herself having fun. The social events she usually attended were formal and contrived with everyone sizing each other up to an exacting set of standards, trying to gauge how much money they were worth. Eve seemed to be having such a good time on the dance floor that Audrey let her teach her the swing dance and the shag so she could join the fun. The music came from a recording, not a real band, but the lively beat made it impossible to sit still and not tap your toes. The fun seemed contagious. Audrey was even more surprised as young men approached from time to time, inviting them to dance or offering to buy a lemonade.
“You’re the two prettiest girls here,” one of them said. “Are you sisters?”
“Best friends,” Eve replied. “You may have one dance with us, but no more.” She leaned close and whispered in Audrey’s ear. “It’s the only way to get rid of them. Otherwise they’ll pester us all night.”
It was great fun to hold a young man’s hand and swing around the dance floor with the other couples. “I’m very new at this and not very good yet,” Audrey explained, panting for breath.
“You’re doing great, doll.”
Afterwards, she and Eve collapsed onto their chairs, laughing. Audrey wondered if her face was as flushed and beaming as Eve’s. “Mother would be appalled if she knew I was here,” Audrey said, fanning herself with a paper napkin.
“I’ll never tell. Cross my heart and hope to die.” Eve made the sign from their childhood ritual, then took a sip of lemonade. “So, tell me, are you and your brother supposed to marry aristocrats or can you marry for love? I don’t understand how it works in your world. You’re a member of the nobility, right?”
“Well, Mother is, at least. Her brother, Roger, sits in the House of Lords, and their family tree goes back forever. I find all that history boring, and my mother does, too. We rarely socialize with her relatives.”
“But she didn’t have to marry a nobleman, right?” Eve asked.
“No. My father is wealthy but it’s ‘new’ money. He earned it himself instead of inheriting it. The only reason the snobs don’t look down on him is because he has piles of it.” Audrey paused as she remembered her mother’s confession: “I liked the life he could offer me. And he liked my father’s title.”
“So you and Alfie could marry commoners?”
“Yes. But there’s no shortage of down-on-their-luck aristocrats who need to marry into a family like ours with new money in order to keep their huge estates going. Why do you ask?” Although she had a feeling she knew.
“No reason.” Eve looked away. “You know, our new king is a bachelor. Maybe you’ll get to meet him at one of your fancy balls, and he’ll give up his affair with that American woman and fall madly in love with you, just like in a fairy tale.”
“He’s much too old for me,” Audrey said with a smile. But her father was sixteen years older than her mother.
“What do you think it will be like to fall in love?” Eve asked. She wore a dreamy look on her face as she watched the swirling dancers.
“I’m afraid I know nothing about it, really, except what one reads in books.”
“Everyone says that my daddy was so romantic he could charm the birds right out of the sky. He and Mum fell madly in love. That’s how I want it to be for me.”
Tears burned in Audrey’s eyes. She wanted to believe it was from all the cigarette smoke. She leaped up to dance with the next boy who wandered over, desperate to erase the memory of her parents’ story—and the future she likely faced.
Too soon, the lights in the dance hall blinked for closing time. Eve gasped and stared at the clock in horror. “Oh no! I forgot it’s a weeknight. I’ve missed my curfew! My landlady won’t let anyone into the boardinghouse after curfew.”
“What will you do?”
Eve shrugged as if she didn’t care, but Audrey could tell she was worried. “I guess I’ll throw stones at the window and hope one of my roommates wakes up and lets me in. And that our landlady doesn’t catch us.” They fetched their coats from the cloakroom and stepped out into the frigid night.
�
��Why not take a taxi home to the town house with me?” Audrey asked.
“Well . . . it’s better than risking trouble, I suppose. I’m sure Mum will let me sleep in her room.”
Audrey hailed a cab and ordered the driver to drop them off at the corner instead of in front of the town house. “Do you mind walking a bit?” she asked Eve. “If our butler sees the headlights, he’ll know how late I’m coming home.” They were a few yards from the front door when a shiny silver Bentley purred to a halt out front. A dapper stranger left the car idling and dashed around to the passenger door to help a woman from the car.
Her mother.
The man draped Mother’s arm around his shoulder, supporting her as he led her to the front door. Mother was as limp as an eel. She began singing “God Save the King” in a loud voice. Shame stole Audrey’s breath.
“Shh. You’ll wake the neighbors and cause a scandal,” the man said, laughing. His voice carried clearly in the still night air.
“That’s nothing new. I already have a scandalous reputation, don’t you know?” Mother stopped on the front step, wrapped her arms around the man, and kissed him full on the lips. The kiss was like something from the cinema, lasting for half a minute. Audrey averted her eyes as if her mother stood there naked.
“Shh . . . Quiet down, old girl!”
“It’s fine for you gentlemen to have a good time. No one even blinks at your indiscretions—even if you’re married to some stuffy old wife. But if a woman has a little fling, it’s goodbye future. Goodbye reputation. A proper gentleman wants to marry a good girl.”
“It’s time to go to sleep, Rosy dear.”
“I’m good, aren’t I, darling?”
“You’re very good,” he said with a laugh. “Now toddle off to bed before we wake up the neighbors.” The front door opened and the butler helped Mother inside. The man in the Bentley drove away. Audrey longed to sink into the ground, to crawl into a hole and disappear. She felt Eve nudging her forward.
“Let’s go in through the back door,” Eve whispered. “I know where there’s a key.”