Fragile Wings

by Rebecca S. Buck

  Lilian was humming to herself, which possibly explained why she had not heard Evelyn’s call. Evelyn came into the room to find Lilian seated at her dressing table, with her back to the door. The room was a little more disorderly today, with one or two dresses laid out as if they had been tried on. As before the room sparkled with gems and crystals and sequins, made even more lustrous by the yellow light of the lamps. Lilian was wearing a simple dark pink dress, which rather clashed with the red of her hair, Evelyn thought. She was bending to her left, though Evelyn could not see what she was doing.

  “Lilian?” Evelyn said loudly, uncomfortable with watching Lilian while Lilian was unaware of her presence.

  Lilian started and turned suddenly, her eyes wide with fear, which turned quickly to anger. A moment later her composure returned and a mask of ambivalence appeared. She hastily laid something down on the dressing table and got to her feet, standing rather obviously in front of whatever she had put down, as if to hide it.

  “Yes?” she asked. “I mean, hello, Evie, sorry. I didn’t hear you coming.”

  “I did call out. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just wanted to say hello, since I’ve not seen you in the past day.”

  “Well, yes, hello. I did wonder if you were all right. You must’ve come in late last night. You weren’t with Jos all that time, surely?”

  “Oh no. Well, I mean, I was, but not alone. We visited some friends of hers, sisters. Suzanne and Sarah Flint.”

  “Oh yes, of course. Well, they seem like nice girls, if a little dull. I hope you had a nice time. I was late in myself.” Lilian was still standing awkwardly but she had unconsciously shifted a little to her right, revealing more of the surface of her dressing table.

  Evelyn could not help but look to see what it was she had been trying to hide, even while she answered. “Yes, I had a nice time. It’s good to meet new people—I can’t always rely on your friends, can I?” Evelyn smiled, hoping that sentiment wouldn’t displease Lilian. Then her smile froze as she finally made out what Lilian had been hiding. On the dressing table lay a small glass syringe, with metal fittings. She could not help but stare in horror.

  Lilian saw her expression change and followed her eyeline. Evelyn looked from the syringe, to Lilian’s slightly panicked expression, to the crook of Lilian’s left arm. There, against her pale skin, was the tiniest trace of fresh blood. Lilian saw where she was looking and clasped her right hand to the place.

  “Whatever’s wrong with you?” she demanded of Evelyn, kindness gone from her voice. “Haven’t you seen someone injecting medicine before? I got it from my doctor today.”

  Although it was not something she’d ever expected to encounter in real life, Evelyn was not so lacking in knowledge of the world that she did not know about drugs. There had been famous cases in the newspapers of actresses dying from taking too much, talk of the terrible influence of drugs on soldiers during the war. She was certain that opium and cocaine were now illegal because of their danger and ability to alter the mind. And because they had led to a dangerous black market trade. Suddenly, Evelyn saw Lilian in a new light. To imagine her as part of that dark, dangerous world was difficult but not impossible. A woman so selfish would surely do anything to fulfil her own needs. She stared at Lilian, finding herself beginning to pity her.

  “I don’t think it is medicine,” she said carefully.

  “And what would you know?” Lilian retorted. “You’d never even come across gin, let along cocaine.”

  “Is that what it is, cocaine?” Evelyn asked. “I have heard of that. I’ve heard that it can kill you.”

  “Oh, don’t be daft. It only kills you if you take too much. You should try it. You’ve never felt anything like it.” Lilian smiled now, but it was not a happy smile.

  “I don’t want to feel anything like it,” Evelyn returned. “And I don’t think you should too. Even if you think it’s safe, isn’t it illegal?”

  Lilian laughed. “They only made it illegal because of the war. It’s not like I’m a criminal. And plenty of people are doing it these days. It makes you feel so good. And God knows, we need that rush, don’t we? You know it too, Evie. When you want to feel something more intense, fill that gap inside you. You don’t know what it is, but then you find it…Well, this is how I find it. It helps me see how bright the world is, after all those dark, ghastly war years.”

  “But there are other ways to find that feeling,” Evelyn replied, remembering how she felt in Jos’s arms, wanting for nothing.

  “Ha! The cocktails and gin are nothing on this. And ciggies I barely notice. What else do you suggest? Don’t even think about sex! There’s really nothing emptier than two people rubbing body parts against each other for a momentary thrill. Not that you’d know. I don’t know why I’m explaining myself to you, anyway.” Lilian’s tone suddenly became dismissive. “Who made you the police?”

  Evelyn’s heart was heavy. She did not want to argue with Lilian, nor did she want to enter into a discussion about the best way to find fulfilment. All of a sudden, there was a darkness in this so very modern London world she had not stopped to look for. She felt her lack of experience again. Of course it could not all be bright colours and a life lived quickly, full of passion. Below the glittering surface was something altogether more sinister. Here was where the desperation lurked, the driving force that made them all—Evelyn included—try to burn brighter and longer, with more intensity. She suspected Dorothy might have had words for it, that longing, that need, but she did not have them herself. Only she understood it now. Lilian had lived through the pain of loss, seen her world destroyed by war, every bit as much as Evelyn had. Evelyn’s escape had been to move to London, to seek a more complex and passionate life. Lilian had already had that life, but she numbed the pain with jazz and fashion and gin, she sang and drank and socialised. But eventually even that was not enough to escape the shadows, so she ran at a pace that was unsustainable without those drugs that now kept her so bright. Evelyn saw it clearly now, but wished she did not.

  “I’m not the police,” Evelyn said in the end. “And you must do as you like, of course. It’s only that it seems awfully dangerous.”

  “I’ll be careful, Evie, don’t worry about me.” Lilian smiled now, but Evelyn sensed a change in her, as if the warm friendship they had been acting out had begun to dissolve.

  “All right,” Evelyn said, keen to end this rather hostile encounter. Ultimately, she still liked Lilian and was still dependent on her hospitality. “You know more about it than me, I’m sure.”

  “Yes. You’re still so awfully innocent, aren’t you, darling?” Lilian’s words sounded patronising now.

  Evelyn decided it was best not to rise to her tone. “I am, really,” she agreed.

  “So it’s probably best for me to remind you not to tell anyone about this too.” Lilian narrowed her eyes and waited for Evelyn’s response.

  Evelyn wanted to ask why, if Lilian was so relaxed about taking cocaine, it mattered that it was kept a secret. Lilian’s demand had given her away. Evelyn wondered if Vernon knew about her habit. She was more than certain that James did not. It was probably James, and therefore her parents and source of wealth, that Lilian was most concerned about. Evelyn chose not to ask any questions. “Of course, I won’t say a word.”

  “Good, good.” Lilian nodded. “Now, don’t you have to get ready for dinner?”

  Evelyn took the hint and went back down the stairs, leaving Lilian alone. She was not sure what to think of that encounter. True, she was inexperienced in the ways of the world, but Lilian’s secrecy and barely concealed anger at having been discovered told her something was very wrong. How insecure in her happiness was Lilian, really? How easy would it be to push her over the edge?

  As she returned to her room, Evelyn resolved to be careful of Lilian, though she very much wished that was not the case. She was pondering this when she heard feet on the stairs. Before she could dart into her bedroom door, there was James,
the last person she wanted to have a conversation with in that moment.

  “Good evening,” he said. His tone was cheery and Evelyn felt a little guilty for the tension she experienced whenever she saw him. He was harmless enough and well intentioned. She just wished he did not seem so interested in her.

  “Good evening, James. Good day at work?” She attempted a carefree smile. He did not seem to have noticed that she felt anything different.

  “Yes, actually. We signed a new contract for the new Tube stations they’re planning near Euston.”

  “That sounds exciting.” Evelyn said.

  “It is, very. I think the firm will let me lead on the design too.”

  “Well done. They must think very highly of you.” Evelyn was in no doubt they did. She did not have to know James very well to glean that he would be a conscientious and reliable worker, and she knew he was more creative than he seemed on first appearances. James was essentially a good person, but it was a little as though he belonged twenty years earlier, before the war had changed everything, in a time when everything was still in its correct place.

  “I like to think so,” he said. “I think they respect my abilities.”

  “You’re too modest, I’m sure,” Evelyn said, her smile genuine this time. Perhaps she was overreacting regarding James. If Lilian was not her ally any longer, maybe James could be. “They are certainly trusting you with important projects.”

  “Yes, that’s true.” James seemed delighted by Evelyn’s interest and encouragement. “Listen, Evie, I’ve been meaning to say sorry we’ve not gone to the pictures yet. I have every intention but time seems to have rather slipped on by, and now it’s nearly Christmas.”

  “Please don’t worry about it,” Evelyn said. She was actually rather relieved that the outing had not materialised and was now dismayed that he had remembered. “I’ve been busy too.”

  “It’s not really cricket though, Evie, to ask you and then not follow through. Now, you know we are away for Christmas, but perhaps immediately afterwards? Between Christmas and New Year, or just after?”

  “Yes, of course,” Evelyn replied without much enthusiasm. “Whenever you have the time.”

  “I will make time.” He fixed her with that intense gaze again and all of her misgivings returned. There really were no two ways about it—James expected this to go somewhere. He was not just being friendly. In that moment she wished that Jos had not sworn her to secrecy. How she would have loved to tell James and watch his expression as he learned that she was not interested because she’d fallen for another woman, one he so disapproved of. Thinking of Jos, she would have rejected James in that moment, but for her new doubt in her friendship with Lilian. She did not want to find herself thrown onto the street by the Graingers. So she smiled back at James, trying to flatter without encouraging him.

  “I’ll look forward to it,” she said.

  “As will I,” James replied. “Will you be joining us for dinner this evening? We missed you yesterday.”

  Evelyn knew he spoke for himself, not Lilian, who had been out the previous evening. “I will be joining you,” she said, “but I’m sure my company is not that enjoyable.”

  “Then you’re mistaken,” James replied. Then, to her relief, he turned to go to his own room. “See you at dinner.”

  Evelyn smiled and retreated into her room. She leaned against the back of the closed door and stared across the room at the window. Suddenly everything had changed; her night with Jos, her discovery of Lilian’s habit and the new tension between them, made everything different somehow. She no longer felt sure of her place in this new world. But part of that was Jos. And whatever else happened, she had Jos.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The days until Christmas passed with excrutiating slowness. Christmas was when she would see Jos again and it was all she wanted to think about. She spent her days doing her best to avoid Lilian and James. Just seeing them at mealtimes was quite enough. Lilian had almost returned to her usual self; she was lending Evelyn accessories and recommending outfits, she was suggesting sightseeing tours and talking to Evelyn in her usual breezy fashion. Except Evelyn still felt a tension between them, as if Lilian was paying more attention than usual to her, waiting to be challenged or watching for the moment when Evelyn would betray her.

  James had become more and more cloyingly attentive to her every need, passing her salt before she needed it, pouring tea when she did not want it. His face brightened when she entered the room. She might have hoped that he would be more awkward in his attentions to her and therefore less able to sustain them, but optimism seemed to have given him confidence and stamina. Her conscience told her she had to be honest with James, but she was unclear exactly how to do so without telling him about Jos.

  There was no mention of visiting the Yellow Orchid again, which Evelyn found frustrating. At least it would have been a chance to glimpse Jos, perhaps to talk with her for a short while. Evelyn did not believe that Lilian would go so long without seeing Vernon or without drinking cocktails in her favourite cafe bar, so she suspected that it was rather the case that she was not invited. It was the only noticeable evidence of the new difficulty in her relationship with Lilian. She wondered if Dorothy had asked after her, and what Lilian had told her. And she was glad that, through Jos, she had friends outside of Lilian and her small circle.

  About halfway through the week and finding herself with too much spare time, she decided she needed to see Jos. Although she tried to think of an excuse, she could not. In the end she resolved to simply tell Jos that she had missed her and wanted to see her. No one could object to being missed, surely? She was still unsure of the mechanics of a relationship like this one, but going to visit someone you had spent an intense night with did not seem like the wrong thing to do.

  First, she tried Jos’s flat. The walk from Hays Mews was a short one and she lost nothing by taking an afternoon stroll and ringing the bell. She was not surprised to find Jos away from home. She was presumably at work. However, the sun was shining and, despite the December chill, it was pleasant walking in the fresh air. Curious as to how she would be received alone, she turned her steps toward the Yellow Orchid. It was not Lilian’s domain after all—it was a cafe open to the public. She did not need an invitation to go there, especially if her intention was to speak to the proprietor’s sister. And going there alone was an act of defiance of Lilian’s attempts to control what she did in London.

  The pavements and landmarks of this part of Mayfair were becoming familiar to her now, if not entirely well-known. She found the streets of London fascinating, every building with its own majesty, its own sense of importance. Although she might not have taken the most direct route, it did not take her long to find the Yellow Orchid. Her heart beat a little faster as she pushed the door to cross the threshold. However, apart from one or two glances, her entrance attracted very little attention from the customers sipping their afternoon coffee, one or two already drinking cocktails. She paused inside the door, wondering whether to take a seat or ask for Jos at the bar. She did not recognise anyone in the room but she was certainly not the only woman on her own. The indecision was over when her eyes settled on Vernon, who had just entered from the back of the building.

  Looking up, he saw her almost instantly and beckoned her over. She was pleased to see him. When she reached him, near the corner of the bar at the back of the cafe, he smiled broadly. Evie smiled back, remembering Jos’s words about him and no longer feeling wary. Today he wore a cream and brown windowpane-check suit with a green bow tie. Every element of his outfit was in place. Whatever he’d been doing at the back of the cafe, it had not been manual work, that was for certain.

  “Evie!” he said. “Delighted to see you. Can I flatter myself that you’re here to suggest a private assignation with the dashing proprietor of the establishment?”

  Evelyn could not help but laugh at him. Although she half suspected that, if she was willing, Vernon would proceed wit
h such an assignation, it was now clear that he was nearly always in jest. There was a suggestion that he found everything to be verging on the ridiculous, including himself. His approach was almost modest in its own way and she found it endearing. “I’m afraid not,” she replied. “Although I don’t know how it can be that I’m resisting the temptation.”

  Now Vernon smiled a more genuine, open smile. Evelyn sensed a slipping of the facade that he presented to the world, that she was seeing the real man instead. “Perhaps because your heart lies elsewhere?” he said.

  Evelyn looked into his eyes, the same blue as his sister’s. Did he know? She knew Jos would tell Vernon eventually of course; Jos had said he would be there at Christmas. But did he know yet? She did not want to pre-empt Jos letting him know, nor give herself away unnecessarily. She decided to test the water first. “And where would my heart lie, if not with you?”

  Vernon apparently saw the reason behind her question at once. “Evie, my dear, I know.” He emphasised the last word to give it significance. “And I can’t say I blame you. My sister is infinitely more handsome than I and considerably more trustworthy.”

  Evelyn found herself lost for words. Sharing what she had with Jos in the secrecy of Jos’s flat was one thing. Suddenly being confronted with the reality in the words and eyes of someone else was rather more astonishing. She was not uncomfortable with the notion of Vernon knowing, only she was not sure how to react.

  “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone else,” he said. “Jos’s secrets are safe with me. Until you tell others about it, not a word will cross my lips.”

  “Thank you,” Evelyn said. “I know it’s important to Jos that it’s a secret for now.”