by Lynn Austin
Mum rose to sit beside her on the bed, wrapping an arm around her. “What other dreams do you have for your life, my darling girl, besides finding true love?”
Eve sighed, playing with a loose thread on the bedspread as she searched her heart. “I dreamed of taking the typing course for so long . . . and then I dreamed of getting a good job and being on my own. Those dreams have come true, Mum. I have all of that, now—a nice job, independence, a shilling or two of my own to spend as I please. But I don’t really know what’s next. I’m not ready to marry and start a family.”
“Of course not. You’re barely eighteen. I married young but times were different back then.”
“Sometimes I go dancing on Saturday night, and while the other girls all try to attract a bloke and pair off with him, none of those fellows appeal to me.” Eve twisted the loose thread around her finger. She suspected they would be even less appealing after an evening with Alfie. “They’re so loud, and they make crude remarks after a few pints. That’s why I accepted this gentleman’s invitation to go to the Savoy. For just one night, I would love to be Cinderella.” She looked up at her mother, hoping she would understand.
Mum hugged her tightly, then stood. “Lady Rosamunde discards gowns the way we discard old newspapers. I can take one or two of them apart and resew them into something lovely for you. And if you come here beforehand, I’ll pin up your hair for you.” She lifted Eve’s hair off her shoulders and loosely shaped it on top of her head before letting it fall again. “You’ll be beautiful.”
Joy bubbled up inside Eve. Maybe fairy tales really did come true.
The soft, beaded gown Mum sewed fit Eve like a dream, hugging her torso, then falling loose from her hips in swirls of swishy fabric. Instead of kinking Eve’s sandy hair in waves, Mum draped it loosely on her head so it looked sophisticated yet natural—the way Alfie preferred. None of Lady Rosamunde’s shoes fit Eve, so Mum snuck into Audrey’s room and borrowed a pair. “I’ve talked to Williams,” Mum said when Eve was ready, “and he insists on driving you to the Savoy to meet your mysterious date.”
“That’s so sweet of him.” She would have to get out at the corner so Alfie wouldn’t see her arrive in his parents’ car.
The other servants applauded when Eve descended the back stairs to leave. Tildy had tears in her eyes as she hugged her. Williams did, too. “You are a beauty, Eve Dawson,” he said as he helped her into the car. “But we knew that all along, even when you were scrubbing pots in the scullery.” He spent the entire journey to the Savoy giving Eve fatherly advice about the dangers of men in general and of rich men in particular. “Hold your head high, darling girl,” he said as he helped her from the car. “You’re somebody special.”
She timed her arrival so she would get there before Alfie, hoping he didn’t catch her gaping at the ornate ballroom in naive wonder. Rich girls walked into splendid palaces like the Savoy cool and aloof, immune to gold-embellished ceilings and pristine marble floors, the dazzling tables set with heavy cloths and candles and sparkling china and silver. Wealthy girls didn’t hold their breath to better hear the rich, warm sound of the string orchestra.
“Beautiful!” Alfie said when he saw her. “I think I’ll simply stand here and gaze at you all evening. That would be feast enough for me.” Eve had no idea what to say, so she merely smiled. If she could bottle up all the joy she felt at that moment, it would last a lifetime.
The dinner was like many she had helped to prepare but like none she had ever tasted. Wine and champagne flowed like water, but Eve drank very little, knowing from experience that it rushed to her head and made her dizzy. She wanted to keep her wits and enjoy every glamorous moment of this once-in-a-lifetime evening. Alfie seemed capable of drinking gallons of champagne and not being affected at all.
After dinner and a brief program, the dancing began. Eve allowed Alfie to hold her close, reveling in his spicy scent as she rested her head against his shoulder. How she loved being held in his arms, strong and muscled from rowing on Oxford’s crew team. He told her all about his crew races and rugby games. “You should come up to Oxford sometime and cheer me on,” he said. Eve smiled and nodded, knowing it could never happen.
The storybook evening was a wonderful dream until Alfie suddenly gestured across the room as they waltzed together and said, “Look, there’s Audrey! I didn’t know she was coming, did you?”
“No!” The word came out in a strangled croak. Fear stiffened Eve’s limbs as the dream became a nightmare. She hadn’t spoken to Audrey since the night Lady Rosamunde came home drunk and Audrey ordered Eve to leave. She longed to release Alfie’s hand and run before being exposed as a real-life Cinderella.
“Let’s go say hello.” Alfie took her hand and led her across the crowded dance floor to where Audrey sat at a table with her date and two other couples. They all shared the same bored, aloof expression, as if fighting migraine headaches. Eve’s heart raced. Her secret would be exposed in front of Alfie and everyone else the moment Audrey said, “Alfie, why have you brought our scullery maid to the ball?”
But that didn’t happen. Audrey acted as though it were perfectly natural to see them together. “I saw you two come in,” she said after all the introductions. “You make a smashing couple.” The smile she gave Eve seemed forced and didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s been a while, Eve. How are you?”
“I’ve been good. You look gorgeous, Audrey.” And she did, wearing a gown that would cost Eve three months’ wages. She wondered if Audrey recognized her mother’s salvaged gowns or her own shoes on Eve’s feet. If so, would she comment on them? Eve fidgeted in place, the urge to bolt from the room growing stronger.
Alfie chatted with the other men while Eve waited, stiff and silent with fear. Then, thankfully, the orchestra started up again. “Come on, Alfie, let’s dance,” she said, tugging him toward the floor.
“Did you see the way the other men looked at you?” he said when she was safely in his arms again. “They’re all thinking I’m the luckiest man here. You outshine every woman here, Eve Dawson.”
Eve didn’t know how to respond to his compliments. Were they true or just flattery, fueled by all the wine he’d swallowed? She decided to believe they were true and to enjoy being a mysterious fairy-tale princess for just a little longer. Audrey would surely tell her brother the truth tomorrow, so Eve better confess before the evening ended. But no matter what happened after that, she would remember this wonderful evening forever.
Much too soon, it was time to leave. As they waited for a servant to fetch their cloaks, Alfie took both of Eve’s hands in his and looked into her eyes. “I have two requests, darling, and please don’t refuse either. The first is, may I see you again?”
She couldn’t help smiling. Was this love—this wonderful euphoria that made her dizzy and giddy and bursting with happiness? Was it love that made her long to stay in Alfie’s arms forever? Mum’s warnings tried to elbow their way into her thoughts along with Williams’s fatherly advice, but Eve pushed them all aside. “I would like that very much.”
“And second,” Alfie continued, “please say you’ll let me drive you home. I can’t leave you here all alone. Please, let me have a few more moments with you.” Eve looked at the floor, hesitant to reply. Alfie lifted her chin. “You can trust me with your secret, Eve.”
“I know,” she murmured, then drew a deep breath. Audrey would surely tell him the truth, so she might as well do it first. “Here’s my secret, Alfie. I’m a working girl. A typist. I live in a boardinghouse with a dozen other working girls.”
“That’s all?” he asked, laughing. “You never murdered anyone? You’re not a foreign spy or a French cancan dancer?”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” she said with a smile. “I don’t mind working for a living. It’s a good job. And I like being on my own.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing about you, hardworking, independent Eve Dawson. Now, tell me how to deliver you home, please.”
Eve nes
tled beside Alfie in his car for her last few minutes with him. Then they halted in front of the boardinghouse and the marvelous spell shattered like a crystal champagne glass on a marble floor. She had wrangled special permission from Mrs. Russell to stay out past her curfew, and the porch light illuminated the crumbling steps, the peeling paint on the railing. Eve sighed and said, “It’s been a wonderful evening, Alfie Clarkson. One I will never forget. Thank you.”
“Well, I enjoyed your company, too, but the event was a little too stiff and sedate for my taste. Next time I’ll take you to a livelier place that’s more my style. They’ll have a swinging dance band instead of an orchestra.”
“Next time,” she repeated, her heart in her throat.
Alfie gazed at her as if unwilling to move. “I know you only gave me permission to ask two questions, but will you allow me just one more?”
“Your wish is granted.”
“May I kiss you good night?”
“No.” She grinned at his surprise. “I think I’ll kiss you first.” She leaned toward Alfie and did what she’d been longing to do all evening.
Audrey slept late after her evening at the Savoy. When she awoke to another dreary winter day, her first thought was the disturbing image of Eve Dawson dancing in her brother’s arms. She groaned and closed her eyes again. It was wrong for them to be together for so many reasons. Yes, Eve had looked beautiful. In fact, Audrey hadn’t recognized her until she’d heard Eve’s unmistakable laughter. Audrey’s date and all of the other gentlemen at her table stared in slack-jawed admiration as Alfie introduced Eve. Audrey watched the pair whirl around the ballroom floor together, smoothly attuned to each other’s steps, and wondered how in the world this ill-suited duo had ever come together. She would ask Alfie about it today.
Her own date for the evening had been bland and disappointing, both of them bound by the social expectations that turned the evening into a chore. Audrey had been relieved to say good night. “My daddy was so romantic he could charm the birds right out of the sky,” Eve once told her. Audrey’s date would cause the birds to drop dead from boredom. Even from across the crowded ballroom, Eve exuded a warmth and vitality that women of Audrey’s class were taught to carefully suppress. Ladies must be genteel and cool, never laughing out loud with delight the way Eve had. Jealousy slithered through every inch of Audrey’s body, and she hated herself for it.
She rose and dressed before the spiral of self-pity pulled her down any deeper. The servants had spread a buffet breakfast on the sideboard in the dining room and she fixed herself a plate. She was eating alone at the long, polished table, the other eleven chairs silent and empty, when Alfie bounced in. “Morning, Sis. Enjoy your evening last night?”
“Not really.” Conflicting feelings battled in a tug-of-war. Audrey loved her brother, and deep down, she felt Eve wasn’t good enough for him. He was an Oxford student, and Eve had dropped out of the village school at age twelve. Yet aside from Alfie, Eve was the closest friend she’d ever had. “How was your evening?” she asked in return, dreading his reply.
“Splendid! I like your friend a lot.”
Audrey hesitated, knowing she would sound like a jealous shrew if she exposed Eve’s secret. But Eve was wrong to deceive her brother by pretending to be someone she wasn’t. “Eve isn’t right for you, Alfie. She’s a working girl, a typist in an office somewhere.”
“I know. She told me.” He speared a sausage and put it on his plate beside his eggs and toast. The casualness of his reply infuriated her.
“Did she also tell you that her mum is our mother’s lady’s maid? And that she—”
“It doesn’t matter, Sis.” He cut her off before she could add that Eve was once their scullery maid. He set his plate on the table and sat down across from her, diving into his food as if the conversation were over. Audrey couldn’t let it go.
“It will matter to our parents. Mother will be furious. She forbade me to be friends with Eve, so I can well imagine how she’ll feel about you courting her. And Father has high hopes for you to marry a titled woman so he can move up another rung on society’s ladder.”
“I don’t really care what Mother thinks. And Father is the last person who would dare to complain about Eve’s working-class background. I like Eve. I plan to see her again.”
“Is she your act of rebellion? Is that why you’ll keep seeing her?”
Alfie grinned as he lifted a forkful of eggs. “I’ll keep seeing her because she’s beautiful, in case you hadn’t noticed. And because she’s fun. There isn’t a snobbish bone in her body.”
“Not a drop of blue blood, either.”
“Don’t be unkind, Audrey. I thought she was your friend.”
“She is!” Audrey closed her eyes, picturing the expression of adoration on Eve’s face as she’d waltzed in Alfie’s arms, like a starving woman eyeing a banquet table. “She is my friend,” she said softly. “Eve is naive and trusting and loving . . . Please don’t hurt her, Alfie. You know a romance with her can’t go anywhere. But Eve doesn’t know it, and she won’t believe me if I tell her. She believes in fairy tales. She doesn’t know that people like us rarely live happily ever after.”
“You sound so jaded, Sis.”
“I suppose I am. It’s hard to find a man who’s interested in me and not our father’s money. I would like to fall in love with an unforgettable man who would love me even if I were as penniless as Eve Dawson. I long for a romance that will last a lifetime, not a convenient arrangement like our parents have.” She wondered if Alfie knew the truth about their mother. Audrey still wished she could forget that terrible night.
“So you believe in fairy tales too?” Alfie asked.
“I would very much like to. Do you suppose people like us are allowed to believe in them?”
The butler entered before Alfie replied. “Excuse me, sir . . . Miss Audrey,” he said with a bow. “You may wish to switch on the wireless. King Edward is making an important announcement.”
They left their food on the table and hurried into the morning room. The king had already begun to speak when Alfie switched on the set, but Audrey quickly caught the gist of it. “He’s abdicating his throne!” she said. Alfie nodded. Abdicating! Laying aside his crown as the sovereign monarch of the British Commonwealth for the sake of love! Audrey sank down on the sofa, stunned, as she listened to King Edward’s sad, weary voice.
“I have found it impossible to carry the heavy burden of responsibility and to discharge my duties as king as I would wish to do, without the help and support of the woman I love.”
Alfie switched off the wireless with an angry gesture when the broadcast ended. “There’s your fairy tale, Audrey. The king is giving up the throne of Britain for love. Don’t you think the old boy is just a little bit of a fool?”
“Perhaps.” Audrey would never tell Alfie what she really was thinking—that it must be wonderful to be so beloved by a king that he would sacrifice everything for her.
7
USA, 1950
Audrey sank down on Eve’s kitchen chair, struggling to control her tears. They had arrived at Eve’s tiny bungalow only minutes ago, and the air inside was sweltering. Audrey had left her home in England and endured a long, wearying journey to America to meet her husband’s parents, hoping to find a new home and begin a new life. But nothing was turning out the way she’d planned. Eve Dawson was here in her place, telling Audrey she had to leave, that she didn’t belong. Eve’s angry words rained down on her like a hail of shrapnel:
“For as long as we’ve known each other, you’ve had all the advantages and I’ve had none. You’re Audrey Clarkson—the spoiled rich girl, the aristocrat! You went to a fancy school to learn how to marry a wealthy husband, so surely you can find a man in London who’d be willing to marry Alfred Clarkson’s rich little daughter. A man who could buy you a house twice as big as this one—twice as big as Wellingford Hall!”
Audrey closed her eyes to shut out Eve’s words. Then she bent f
orward and covered her face, reminded again of the bitter truth. “I’m not his daughter,” she mumbled.
Eve froze in place. The room went still except for the hum of the rotating fan that Eve had switched on when they’d arrived. A fly buzzed against the window screen. Eve opened the freezer and stuffed the treats she’d been carrying back inside. “What did you say?” she asked.
Audrey pulled a linen handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her tears, then blotted perspiration from her forehead. She never should have blurted the truth about her father. Eve planted her hand on her hip as she waited for an explanation “I—I’m sorry,” Audrey mumbled. “Sorry.” She heard Mother’s disparaging voice: “Oh, for pity’s sake, Audrey . . .”
Bobby noticed her tears and started crying too, clutching a fold of her skirt in his fist. “I w-want to go home, Mummy. Can we go h-home?” Audrey needed to calm him before he gave way to hysterics. This long, joyless trip was supposed to have a happy ending with Bobby’s grandparents pulling him into their arms and embracing him with their love. She and Bobby were supposed to have a home at last. But the dream had taken a nightmarish turn. Eve and her son had stolen their places.
Audrey hugged her son tightly, murmuring, “I know, darling. I know you do.”
“What do you mean you’re not his daughter?” Eve asked as if finally running out of patience. Audrey wished she hadn’t spoken.
“Let’s talk about it later. Please?” She gestured to Bobby, still hiccuping tears. “Why don’t you show us around and maybe we can find something for the boys to do while you and I talk.”