Fragile Wings

by Rebecca S. Buck

  “Bet you’re wondering about the others now too.” Lilian had tired of laughing at her brother and had noticed where Evelyn’s attention was drawn.

  “Yes, I must admit, I was rather.”

  Dorothy smiled. “I can see the fascination. I’m not sure there’s a man or woman in here who doesn’t have a real crack on for one or the other, or both. Attagirl, Evie, you’re fitting right in already.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Evelyn waited for an explanation from Dorothy. “Who are they?”

  Lilian chose to enlighten her. “The one in the red dress is Courtney Craig. She’s American, though she went to school here. Same school as Dorothy, in fact, though she was in the form above. Awfully rich, apparently her daddy is someone high up in banking in New York City. The one she can’t let go of, with the Eton crop, is Clara Bridgford. Also at school with Dorothy. They were schoolgirl sweethearts and now they’re as good as married.”

  Evelyn took a moment to process this information. “But they’re both women,” was her response, which did not, for a moment, convey the intrigue and confusion she felt.

  “Oh yes, they most certainly are. Not the sort of thing that happened in West Coombe, I’ll warrant!” Dorothy seemed to take delight in Evelyn’s naiveté.

  “I don’t really think I understand,” Evelyn admitted.

  “And why should you?” James said. “Really, you two, this is Evelyn’s first night here, must you really try to open her eyes to everything there is to know in just a few hours?”

  “We were only trying to answer her questions.” Lilian pouted.

  James apparently decided to explain the matter himself, to draw an end to the conversation. “Evelyn, Clara, Courtney, and Jos are what’s known as inverts. They feel the same towards other woman as normal women feel towards men. They form relationships with each other and act as though they’re real couples. That’s all there is to it, really.”

  “Oh…I see.” Evelyn was taken aback by James’s brusque and condemnatory tone.

  “So there’s nothing really to understand,” James said. “And, yes, Courtney is certainly a beautiful woman but Dorothy is exaggerating how attractive they are.”

  “I am not! I could be charmed by Clara myself. Used to carry a bit of a torch for her at school.” Dorothy winked at James.

  “You’re absurd, Dorothy.”

  “Oh, dry up, Mrs. Grundy. There’s nothing wrong with it. Modern times, don’t you know?” Dorothy was apparently unperturbed by James. “Evie, I’m sorry if we’ve overwhelmed you a little. This is just the world we live in.”

  “Oh no, don’t apologise, I find it all fascinating.” Evelyn smiled, still trying to process these new developments and trying to stop herself staring over at Clara and Courtney, still in conversation with Jos Singleton. Perhaps the gin was having an effect on her after all, since she thought she could understand why Clara was so attractive. Jos too, for that matter.

  “Aha, the drinks. Just what we need.” Lilian smiled up at Vernon as he approached with a tray of glasses.

  “You know I employ waiters for this, Lily, darling.” Vernon was only mildly exasperated.

  “Of course. But I’m your star, aren’t I?”

  “Yes. You know you are. The earth moved for me tonight, every note was as if in a dream. I am eternally under your spell.”

  Dorothy laughed openly at Vernon’s hyperbole. Even James smiled. Lilian frowned with mock melodrama. “Oh, how you tease me, Mr. Singleton.”

  “This is nothing, Miss Grainger, as you well know.”

  “Oh, please,” James murmured as he took the first sip of his drink.

  Vernon turned his attention to James. “Just because you’re not my type, Grainger, you don’t need to be so flat about it. Not stuck on me, are you?”

  “I don’t see why anyone would be, Singleton,” James replied, without a hint of good humour.

  “Playing hard to get. That’s rare.”

  “Oh, Vernon, leave poor James alone. He’s already suffering at our hands tonight.” Dorothy gave him a stern stare.

  “Anything you say, Dorothy, you know I can’t resist your every command.”

  “Naturally. Won’t you sit down for a drink with us? Or at least stay for a ciggie?”

  “I’m a busy man, Dorothy. Besides, a chap named Sinclair has come in especially to see me this evening, and so far I’ve given him no more than a moment of my time. You’ll just have to join me in the daylight hours, if you crave my company so badly. We can sip coffee in the sunlight.”

  “Coffee? Where’s the fun in that?” Lilian interjected.

  “Oh, I’m lots of fun, even when there’s no gin, Lily. Anyway, how is our new friend?” He turned his enquiring gaze on Evelyn. “Are you enjoying your evening, darling?”

  “Oh yes, very much, thank you.” Evelyn could not help but feel nervous and wish he would look elsewhere, yet also flattered by his interest.

  “Will we see you again?”

  “I expect so.”

  “Then I will look forward to all the fun we’ll have together. You do look like you’d be rather fun.”

  “Singleton, Evelyn’s only arrived in London today—can you perhaps show her some common decency?” James glowered at Vernon, who looked mildly surprised. Evelyn did not appreciate the implication that she could not manage a conversation with Vernon by herself.

  “Oh, I can be lots of fun, Mr. Singleton,” she said, in as jaunty a tone as she could summon. “Only it entirely depends on the calibre of my playmates.”

  Evelyn did not miss the look of approval exchanged by Lilian and Dorothy. She did not look at James’s expression but rather enjoyed the way Vernon narrowed his eyes and smiled, as if presented with a challenge where he had expected none. Distracted by this, she reached for her cocktail but misjudged the distance to the glass, managing to topple it over and into her lap. The ice-cold liquid soaked straight through her skirt and onto her thighs. Although she had righted the glass before the whole contents could spill, there was still a small puddle in her lap. She jumped up, embarrassed.

  “Oh, darling! Your dress!” Lilian exclaimed.

  “Where’s the ladies’?” Evelyn asked urgently.

  “Over at the back there, beyond the bar. Would you care for some help?” Vernon raised a cocky eyebrow.

  “No, thank you.” Evelyn hurried in the direction he’d indicated. Her route took her directly past Jos and her friends, but she did not look up for a moment as she went through the door with its frosted glass panels and into the beige-tiled washroom, where she reached for the white hand towel and held it to her skirt.

  The sound of the music from the piano, which had been playing since Lilian had finished singing, filtered through the door but it seemed very quiet in the tiled space, with only the dripping of water from one of the copper-coloured taps making a sound in the room itself. There was a wooden bench along one side of the room. Evelyn perched on it and sighed, still dabbing at her skirt. Now she felt the effects of the gin she had consumed, and now she realised just how far away from home she really was. Alone in a bathroom with glazed beige tiles and a dripping tap, at the back of a cafe in London where jazz was played and friends argued and cocktails were ordered. Where women dressed like men and pretended to marry other women. Only this morning she had been in West Coombe. With Edward, and her parents. With familiar walls and rugs and mirrors. With tea and porridge for breakfast. Part of her ached for the familiarity and felt miserable that she had brought herself to this place, where she would never really belong. And yet it was so wondrous, so full of colour. Even to be miserable in this world was surely glorious. Was she living the life Edward had so badly wanted for both of them?

  The door opened. Evelyn leaped to her feet, determined not to be discovered both dishevelled and staring into space in the ladies’ washroom. She looked to the door and was surprised to see Jos Singleton appear.

  “Hello there,” Jos said, looking directly at Evelyn with eyes t
hat were just as blue as her brother’s. She ran a hand through her short hair, as if a little unsure of herself. “I’m dreadfully sorry to interrupt, but I couldn’t help noticing, as you ran past, you dropped this.” She held out a hand. In her fingers sparkled Evelyn’s brooch, the diamond and ruby butterfly that meant so much to her. Evelyn stared at it, horrified she’d not even noticed it was missing.

  “Oh gosh! Thank you so much. I had no idea I’d lost it, what with my spilling my drink and everything. And it means ever such a lot to me.”

  “You better take it back, then.” Jos smiled and moved a little closer to Evelyn. Evelyn reached for the brooch and held it securely in her hand. “Perhaps the pin is broken?” Jos suggested.

  Evelyn glanced down at the fastening of the brooch. “It looks fine. I probably didn’t fasten it properly. I dressed in rather a hurry. Thank you again, Miss—” Evelyn stopped herself. She had been about to let on that she knew Jos’s identity, which would reveal her former curiosity. Her cheeks grew warm.

  Jos looked at her curiously. “It’s Miss Singleton, but I much prefer people to call me Jos.”

  “Well, thank you, Jos, I’m so happy you brought me my brooch.” Evelyn found herself quite captivated. Jos’s nearly black hair was short cropped and sat close to her head, but with a natural curl which shone in the light. Her blue eyes were vivid beneath thick dark eyebrows and fringed with long lashes. Her complexion was almost Mediterranean, although there were a few freckles scattered over her nose. Now that Jos was standing right in front of her, Evelyn could see her whole outfit. She wore a light tweed double-breasted waistcoat fitted close to the curve of her body, at once masculine but showing her womanly curves more than any fashionable gown. Her trousers were wide Oxford bags in the same tweed as the waistcoat. The white shirt was a striking contrast with the rich colour of her skin, and the blue of her loosely tied cravat brought out that of her eyes. She wore her clothes easily, without affectation, and yet they seemed well-considered to show her form and colouring to their best. She looked a lot like her brother, Evelyn reflected, yet her expression was more open, with less of his assumed sneer.

  “And might I ask your name?”

  Jos’s question made Evelyn realise she was staring and hadn’t yet introduced herself. “Of course. Evelyn Hopkins.” She held out a hand. Jos took it and squeezed her fingers gently. Her hand was warm, her fingers rougher and with drier skin than Evelyn expected. She found she wanted to hold on to the hand that was so quickly withdrawn. There was undeniably something compelling about Jos.

  “I’ve not seen you before, have I? Not that I’m here often, but it seems like most people are regular patrons.”

  “No, I’ve not been here before. In fact, this is my first day in London. I’m from Devon.”

  “You’ve come a long way to visit the Yellow Orchid. Vernon must be doing something right.” Jos smiled. “Sorry, Vernon, the proprietor, he’s my brother. We’re twins, actually.”

  “I’ve met Vernon. In fact, he’s probably still at our table—that’s where I left him.”

  Jos’s smile faded briefly. “You’re here with Lilian and James Grainger?”

  “Yes. It’s an awfully long story but I brought a letter to them, from their brother who died in the war. And they’ve been kind enough to allow me to stay with them while I’m in London.”

  “Oh, so you’re not an old friend of theirs?”

  Evelyn thought this an odd question and still sensed an edge of hostility in Jos’s tone. “Not at all. I only met them today. It seems odd now, to be here with them and not to have known them this morning. And Lilian’s friend, Dorothy, I only met this evening.”

  “Oh, Dorothy’s swell, she’ll be a good friend.” Evelyn wondered why Jos had not said the same of Lilian, beginning to feel uneasy. “So will you be in London long?”

  “I’m really not sure. Like I said, it’s a long story and I don’t have specific plans. I’m rather relying on Lilian and James’s kindness, you see.”

  “I hope you’ll be here long enough to tell me that story. It sounds like it could be interesting.” Jos smiled now, the tension dissolving.

  “I don’t know about that. I’m not terribly interesting myself.” Evelyn shrugged and laughed awkwardly.

  “I think you seem interesting.” Jos held Evelyn’s eye contact for a long time and Evelyn found she could not look away. Then a thought seemed to distract Jos and she looked down at the floor, then at Evelyn’s drying skirt. “It doesn’t look like that will stain, anyway.”

  Evelyn looked down. “No, I hope not.” The silence between them was not entirely comfortable. “I should probably go back out there, or they’ll be coming in to find me.”

  “Of course.” Jos turned to open the door for Evelyn, who hastily returned the towel to its rail. To leave the quiet of the washroom to enter the smoke- and sound-filled chaos of the cafe seemed jarring and yet enticing at the same time. She passed through the door Jos held open for her and looked back to take her leave properly.

  “Thank you again for returning my brooch.”

  Jos smiled. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hopkins.”

  “Evie. I hope we’ll meet again.”

  “Jos Singleton, you must introduce us!” A loud, accented voice came from close by.

  Jos grinned at someone over Evelyn’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Evie, how impolite of me.”

  Evelyn turned to see the women she knew to be Clara and Courtney looking at her with no little intrigue in their expressions. Apparently, it had been the American, Courtney, who had demanded the introduction.

  “Clara Bridgford and Courtney Craig, this is Evie Hopkins. I can’t tell you much else about her, except that she’s from Devon.”

  “Then you’ve shown a dreadful lack of curiosity, Jos.” Clara held out a hand and Evelyn took it. “Good to meet you.” Clara’s voice was rich and deep. “What brings you to London?”

  “I’m pleased to meet you too. It really is a long story though.”

  “Leave her be, Clara.” Courtney placed a silencing finger on Clara’s lips, then held her own hand out to Evelyn. “I’m also pleased to meet you. And might I say what a pretty brooch that is. I’m so glad we noticed it fall off and sent Jos in after you.”

  Evelyn could not help but wonder why Jos had returned her brooch, not Clara or Courtney. Perhaps they were simply unable to be apart from each other for a moment. Even now, they sat so closely their arms were touching. Evelyn shook Courtney’s hand. “Thank you. The brooch is a family heirloom and I would’ve hated to have lost it, especially on my very first day in London.”

  “Isn’t it quite a place?” Courtney clearly loved the city.

  “Yes, it certainly is.”

  “I came all the way from New York City to be here.”

  “I thought that was to be with me?” Clara interjected.

  “That too, obviously, darling.” Courtney planted a small kiss on Clara’s cheek, leaving a faint smear of lip colour.

  “I only came from Devon, but it does feel like rather a long way, I have to admit.” Evelyn was trying very hard not to be transfixed by Clara and Courtney. They were both strikingly beautiful and immaculately attired, but, above this, she could almost feel their dedication to each other. She began to wonder how James could be so disapproving. Their relationship was certainly unconventional, but something to frown on? She could not see it. What had he called them? Inverts, it was. She tried to make sense of it, but there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with Clara and Courtney at all. What they had seemed actually quite appealing.

  “Well, I very much hope we are able to hear what brought you to the corrupt streets of the capital one day soon,” Clara said and sounded genuine.

  “That would be nice,” Evelyn said, surprised at such curiosity and unsure what the appropriate response would be. “I’m afraid I should return to my friends. Look, I can see them waving at me.” Sure enough, Lilian was waving a hand in her direction. Vernon was no
longer at the table with them, but Dorothy and James were both looking her way.

  “Of course, we won’t hold you up any longer,” Clara said.

  Evelyn smiled briefly at the three women and nodded her thanks once again to Jos, then returned to the chair next to James.

  “We began to think you weren’t coming back,” Lilian said, her tone almost accusatory. “And what did Jos want? We saw her follow you.”

  “My brooch fell off as I passed by. She was just returning it to me.” Somehow, Evelyn felt as though she needed to defend Jos from Lilian. “It was kind of her.”

  “Hmm, well, you should be careful being alone with her, you know.”

  Evelyn raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

  “Smart question, darling! Yes, why, Lilian?” Dorothy chimed in.

  “Well, you know her inclinations. And Evelyn’s not all that worldly.” Lilian clearly did not like being challenged.

  “Jos is hardly likely to practice the art of seduction in the ladies’ washroom.”

  Lilian was clearly annoyed at being ridiculed, her face florid. “You never know,” she muttered.

  “I liked her, from what I saw of her,” Evelyn said. “She introduced me to Clara and Courtney too, they seem very nice. And very happy.”

  “Much happier than most couples I’ve come across,” Dorothy said.

  “That’s not really the point, Dorothy.” James spoke for the first time since Evelyn had returned. “Evelyn, you’ll find most people are nice here. And most of them have drunk enough gin and smoked enough fags to be happy too. But you have to be careful.”

  “Please James, she’s not a child.” Dorothy seemed put out on Evelyn’s behalf.

  “I’m only saying she should be careful of people who are, well, unconventional.”

  “I appreciate the advice, thank you.” Evelyn tried to sound sincere and took a large gulp of the remains of her cocktail.

  “I think,” Lilian interrupted, “it’s probably high time we retreated to the house and to our beds. What say you all?”

  “I think that’s a top-hole idea. The night is young, of course, but I am rather tired.” Dorothy seemed no less alert than she had at the beginning of the evening.