“That would be perfect. Do you know how to get to the theatre?”
“I think we might’ve gone along Shaftesbury Avenue one day. I’m not sure I can remember though.”
Jos gave her directions. “Of course, it’s a good mile, so you might want to take a cab.”
“I used to walk much further than that at home.” Evelyn was already starting to relish the prospect of an independent walk through London.
“Shall we say one o’clock then? Or I could meet you earlier on the route if it would help. I’d hate you to get lost on my account.” Jos smiled, her words full of enthusiasm.
“No, thank you. One o’clock is fine. I won’t get lost and if I do, I’ll ask a policeman.”
“You’re such a tourist, Evie. We’ll soon make you a Londoner.” Dorothy seemed satisfied with how she had engineered the situation.
Evelyn was grateful to her since she was fairly sure that, left to her own devices, she’d have sat silently, wondering how on earth to further her contact with Jos. “I’m already starting to feel like I am a Londoner,” she said.
“Not quite, sweetie. But nearly. It won’t be long.” Dorothy’s words seemed to carry more meaning than was apparent on the surface. Evelyn smiled, rather thrilled to have Dorothy’s approval. While Lilian was the shiny glamour of this new world Evelyn inhabited, she already felt like Dorothy was the essence of it. Dorothy’s respect suddenly meant a lot to her, although not so much as the fact that she would spend time with Jos, alone, the following day.
“You’d almost think Dorothy had a checklist for becoming a Londoner, wouldn’t you?” Jos joked gently.
“Yes. I’d like to know what’s on it,” Evelyn said, enjoying sharing the joke with Jos.
“I’ll warrant it’s not being born within the sound of Bow Bells. Maybe it’s being born within the sound of the tills ringing at Harrods?”
Dorothy looked mildly offended. “Certainly not! I’m not so shallow and you know it, Joselyn Singleton.” She smiled that vague, intriguing smile. “But I do have my opinions on what makes you part of this world. Number one would be a fascination for all that’s new. A simply unhealthy passion for jazz. A desire to drink gin before midday, perhaps.”
“This is still all awfully superficial, Dorothy, darling, don’t you think, Evie?” Jos clearly enjoyed teasing Dorothy and relished sharing her humour with Evelyn.
“It is, I have to agree. I’d expect more from Dorothy.” Evelyn drew confidence from Jos.
Dorothy’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure I’m happy you two are better aquainted if I’m going to be bullied so badly.”
“Sorry, darling. You know I’m just pulling your chain. Do go on.” Jos put a finger to her lips to indicate that she would remain silent.
“Well, you must also be thoroughly dissatisfied with everything and dream of something new and thrilling that you don’t quite understand. You must think that the future is more exciting than the past but live in the moment and not concern yourself too much with what that future will be. You must have flirted with men and women and kissed plenty that you never intend to marry. You must feel the thrill and yet know it to be empty.”
Evelyn and Jos stared at Dorothy as she concluded. With Dorothy it was difficult to know if she was sincere or in jest, yet her tone was intense, her eyes turned slightly glassy. Evelyn had the uncomfortable feeling of having witnessed the emotions at Dorothy’s core, perhaps something she had not meant to reveal. She found Dorothy at once ridiculous and captivating. Jos’s silence seemed to imply that she was equally unsure how to respond.
“Gosh, Dorothy, do you ever think that you dwell on it a little too much?” Jos said, eventually. “Surely, after all, the conclusion of your requirements is that one does not sit and talk about things but rather goes out and really lives.”
“Oh, but where’s the pleasure in life if one cannot postulate about it?”
“I think, perhaps, we have rather different pleasures, Dorothy. I don’t want to talk about my feelings and their greater significance for the world. I want to feel them, to know what it is to be me, living my life. It’s that which makes my flesh quicken. That and a good scotch, of course.”
Dorothy allowed a flicker of a smile and turned her eyes to Evelyn. “What does Evie think about this? Where do your pleasures lie, I wonder?” The words were dripping with implications and yet Evelyn was drawn into the discussion without fear. It felt as though she was involved in something close to the edge, something dangerous and yet intoxicating. They were only sitting in a cafe, talking over coffee, and yet she felt as though she was breaking rules, drilling down to the root of what was important.
“I think I agree with Jos,” she said giving Jos a long look to make sure her sincerity was not in doubt. “I could have sat at home in West Coombe and dreamed of a different life, philosophised about it. But I came to London to live it, to feel it.”
“But those feelings count for nothing if they mean nothing,” Dorothy said.
“But Dorothy, their lack of meaning is their ultimate purpose, if we are to be thrilled but empty.” Jos looked back to Evelyn, apparently pleased they were in agreement.
“Can one feel, without thinking?” Dorothy asked.
“Yes. I think so,” Evelyn said. “It’s difficult to think without feeling though.”
“The dilemma of my daily life.” Dorothy drank the last of her coffee.
A giggle from the back of the cafe signified that Lilian and Vernon had returned. Jos looked towards where her brother emerged from the door to the private rooms above the cafe. Lilian was already heading back towards the table. Evelyn thought her hair looked ruffled, her lipstick freshly reapplied. Lilian’s pupils were also rather wide and her cheeks pink. She could not help but wonder what Lilian had been doing just a few moments before.
“Did Vernon enjoy your new song?” Dorothy asked, wryly.
“Of course he did.” Lilian took her seat and smiled, as though she really had just been performing the new song for Vernon. “Ah, Jos, good to see you. I’m sorry I was keeping Vernon occupied.”
“Not a problem,” Jos replied. Evelyn sensed a tension between them, which made her uncomfortable. “It gave me chance to get to know Evie a little better.”
Lilian’s smile faded slightly, Evelyn noticed. “Well, that’s excellent. It’s good you’re making new friends, Evie.”
“Jos is going to show me behind the scenes at her theatre tomorrow,” Evelyn said, partly because she was excited by the prospect and partly because she was curious how Lilian would react.
“Really? That’s very kind.” Lilian was now not smiling at all. “Of course, if you want me to stay at home instead of going to see my dressmaker, I will do. I can take you to the theatre myself. We could actually see the play instead of getting our clothes filthy backstage.”
Evelyn did not like the suggestion in Lilian’s tone that her offer was far better than what Jos had suggested. “No, thank you. I know you’ve been looking forward to finally getting your dress for New Year’s. I’m curious to see behind the scenes. We can go to the theatre at any time. If you don’t mind.” She added the last in the face of Lilian’s downcast expression.
“No, I don’t mind,” Lilian said, her tone flat. Any further discussion was interupted by Vernon’s arrival at the table.
“Sister darling, good to see you.”
“I need to have a word, if you don’t mind, brother dear.” Jos got to her feet. “Dorothy, Lilian, it was good to see you. Evie, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She nodded at each of them then began to walk towards the back of the cafe.
“You mean I don’t get to spend time with this delicious coterie?” Vernon had not directly followed Jos.
“No, not if you know what’s good for you. I’m quite sure you’ll see them again soon.”
“In that case, ladies, it was brief but pleasurable.” He lingered over the syllables of the word, sensually. Again, Evelyn found herself horribly curious to know what he
and Lilian had been doing upstairs, her mind full of descriptions from Lilian’s book.
“See you tomorrow, Vernon,” Dorothy said. Lilian simply grinned.
“I’ll look forward to tomorrow, Jos. Thank you again,” Evelyn said, putting her other thoughts aside as rather uncomfortable to dwell on.
Vernon and Jos departed to the private door at the back of the cafe. Evelyn watched them go with some regret. However kind Lilian had been to her, she was beginning to find spending too much time with her was disagreeable. Even Dorothy was quieter when Lilian was part of the group.
As if to confirm Evelyn’s misgivings, Lilian clearly decided it was time to turn the conversation to herself. “Have I told you about the dress I’m having made, Dorothy? Evie knows all about it, but I’m not sure I told you. It’s a really nifty design.”
Evelyn thought she saw Dorothy sigh slightly. “No, you haven’t, darling.You simply must.”
Evelyn sipped the last of her now-cold coffee as Lilian started to talk of crystal beads and ostrich feathers. But her thoughts were with Jos and what tomorrow would bring.
Chapter Twelve
Evelyn awoke early the following morning and lay in bed staring at the white-painted ceiling in the grey early morning light. The house was quite cold and she did not feel inclined to leave the comfort and warmth of her blankets, but she knew she would not sleep any longer. She was already thinking about going to the theatre and meeting Jos.
Whenever she tried to think of the enormity of the fact that she felt drawn to Jos in the way she did, Evelyn diverted her thoughts to other concerns. There was no reason to dwell on that, she reasoned, since it was not something she could act upon alone. Would Jos feel the same way? How did these things work between women? So many questions arose which she could not begin to answer that she found contemplating her feelings for Jos made her nothing but anxious. Instead she lingered over the details. She had already decided to walk to Shaftesbury Avenue, taking enough money for a cab in case she did get lost. There was a peculiar thrill in the idea of being out in London by herself for the first time since she had arrived at Paddington.
She was also very excited at the prospect of seeing backstage at the theatre. It was an experience beyond those of the ordinary tourist and it seemed to mark a step towards her being part of this group of aquaintances, part of their London life. She smiled to herself, thinking that she would write a letter to Edward in the evening, after her theatre visit, and tell him all that had happened. Maybe she would even write to her parents, in the hope that she could dazzle them with the excitements of her new life.
Evelyn could hear Grace in the kitchen below, preparing the breakfast, and she decided to begin her day with a bath. She was still astonished by the luxury of the Graingers’ bathroom, but growing quite accustomed to the convenience. She climbed out of bed, slipped a robe over her nightdress, and took her towels from the chest of drawers, already happily anticipating the warm water.
*
The warm water was so pleasant, Evelyn even decided to wash her hair with the coconut oil shampoo Lilian had given her. At home, she had been used to washing her hair only once a week, usually on a Saturday evening. Now she found she liked the feeling of it being freshly washed and certainly much preferred Lilian’s shampoo to the cake of coal-tar soap she used at home.
Her long hair was still wet when she left the bathroom, wrapped in only the thin robe, and she could feel the cool water soaking through to her skin. She was halfway along the landing between the bathroom and her bedroom when James’s bedroom door opened and he appeared, dressed only in his trousers and shirt, the shirt open to reveal his chest and torso beneath. Evelyn glimpsed the hair on James’s chest and the curve of his stomach before he clutched his arms to his body. Equally embarrassed, Evelyn held her towels tighter, aware that the robe showed the contours of her form in a most improper way.
“Oh, good morning, Evelyn. I thought I heard someone moving about but it’s so early I thought it was Grace.”
Evelyn wondered why it was more acceptable to appear half-undressed in front of Grace but did not say so. “Good morning, James. I’m sorry if I woke you. I wanted to have a bath.”
“No. I mean, you didn’t wake me at all.” James had apparently now noticed Evelyn’s state of undress and could not help a lingering look from her shoulders where her hair soaked the robe, down to her ankles and slippered feet. She wanted to tell him to stop looking at her, but that would have meant acknowledging that he was, and she did not relish the prospect.
“Good. I’m going to dress for breakfast now.” Evelyn tried to move towards her own door.
“Of course. Oh, I meant to tell you”—James was still struggling to keep his eyes on Evelyn’s and she grew increasingly uncomfortable—“I managed to take two days of leave next week. So if you’d still like to go somewhere on one of those days, I’m available.”
Evelyn felt dismayed and realised she’d forgotten James’s intentions. However, she could not forget that it was his hospitality that gave her a roof over her head in London. “That’s wonderful. Thank you. I couldn’t possibly take up both days of your free time but maybe we could go to one of the galleries one afternoon.”
“I could take you to the pictures,” James said, hopefully. The pictures, Evelyn thought, was hardly a way to see more of London, but it was certainly a way for James to spend time with her alone.
“That would be nice too,” she replied, with little enthusiasm. “Are they showing anything good?”
“They have Wings on at the Elite, with Clara Bow.”
“Oh, the one about the war. Of course.” Evelyn could not imagine a film she had less interest in.
“It’s supposed to be very good. Very realistic.”
“How wonderful. I’d be delighted.” She forced a smile.
“Excellent.” James looked genuinely pleased.
“Now, do you mind awfully if I make myself decent?” Evelyn did not hide her impatience.
Recalled to their states of undress, James suddenly seemed shy again. “Oh, of course. Apologies. Delighted you accepted though. See you at breakfast.” Slightly pink in the face, he hurried off looking at the carpet. Evelyn let herself into her bedroom with some relief, though frustrated that her dependent situation and fear of causing offence made it impossible to refuse James, however much she wanted to.
*
Although she chided herself for cowardice, Evelyn decided not to join Lilian and James for breakfast. She knew James would leave for work within the half hour and she preferred not to see him again this morning. She did worry about what he was telling his sister. Had he confided in her that he planned to take Evelyn to the cinema, to court her perhaps? The notion made her desperately uncomfortable. Lilian, unusual and difficult though Evelyn found her to be, was still her first London contact, her first friend. She did not like the idea of Lilian forming incorrect ideas about her. And if she was to disappoint James, what impact would that have?
Of course, she reflected, she could be honest about her feelings towards Jos. But, unlike Dorothy, Lilian had expressed some distaste for Jos’s way of living, and loving. Evelyn did not feel as though she could confide in her so easily, especially when nothing was by any means certain. After today’s visit to the theatre, she might never see Jos again. She certainly did not need to share this with Lilian and realised that, in fact, it would make her feel vulnerable to do so.
Instead of eating her toast, she instead spent her time considering what to wear for her afternoon with Jos. While having no desire to be as superficial as Lilian, she found herself looking with dissatisfaction at the contents of her wardrobe. Jos was of the same world as Lilian and Dorothy, whose clothes were beautiful and well chosen. Yet there was some hope. Jos did not conform to Lilian’s idea of fashionable, so perhaps she would not expect the same of others. In the end, she opted for her plain grey skirt and cream blouse, reflecting that she would be wearing her coat for most of the outing anyway. She
would wear the red cloche and knitted scarf Lilian had given her a couple of days before.
Once she was dressed, Evelyn listened again to see if she could hear movement downstairs. She was fairly sure James would already have left for work, probably disappointed not to have seen her at breakfast. Eventually, she ventured downstairs, carrying the hat and scarf. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Lilian entered the hallway from the kitchen. She was already dressed for the day in quite a conservative dress with a blue tartan pattern. Evelyn did not think it suited her at all but was not about to say so.
“Morning, Evie,” Lilian said cheerfully. “There’s still some breakfast left if you want some.”
“I’m not that hungry this morning, but thank you,” Evelyn said.
“Ah well, suit yourself. You’re off to meet Jos this afternoon, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am. But I’m going for a walk first. I want to try being out and about by myself, without just following you around. Much though I appreciate all the time you’ve spent with me, of course.” Evelyn felt nervous when Lilian spoke of Jos and wanted to move the conversation on.
“It’s only natural that you want to be independent, Evie. I’m quite all right with not sheepdogging you everywhere. You be careful with Jos though, won’t you? And those theatre people she spends her time with.”
“You don’t approve?” Evelyn raised a questioning eyebrow.
“I approve of the performing arts, obviously. And I’m all for a bohemian lifestyle, if one has the correct attitude for it. But they rather cross the line. I don’t want you to be led astray, darling. I’ve already done enough of that.” Lilian laughed, as if to lighten her clearly judgemental tone.
“Oh, I shall be on my guard.” Evelyn wondered if Lilian noted the irony in her words.
“Excellent. Well, I shall be out for most of the day, and possibly into the evening too. So I’ll see you in the morning, if not before.”
“You won’t be back this evening?”
Fragile Wings Page 16