Chapter Two
CHAPTER
TWO
Dear Daddy, Well, here I am, sitting in Athene’s flat. She met me at Waterloo and we came here in a taxi, although there are lots of buses and of course the underground. I’m sure I’ll find my way round on public transport very soon. Her flat is very like she is: elegant, stylish and a little bit flamboyant. She really is the best godmother anyone could ever have. She has left clothes for me to wear if I want to, as well as some – how do I put it – that have obviously been left behind by some of her gentlemen friends. She fully expects me to have gentlemen callers, as she refers to them. But don’t worry, I can’t imagine that happening – for a while anyway. There are two bedrooms, one quite small, which I shall use as a spare room, but the other has a huge double bed in it. I shall be very comfortable in there. Athene told me about a little delicatessen which is quite near, and a wine shop, although she’s left me lots of wine and a well-stocked drinks cabinet and she says I must drink it all! I have a lovely view of the river from the window in the sitting room. I think Athene has been very clever making such a nice flat out of what are really the servants’ quarters. The woman downstairs, who I haven’t met yet, has a Hungarian refugee working for her. I have a map how to find the bookshop. I’m not starting work for a couple of days so I’ll make sure
I know where it is before I do. I’m not sure what I’m going to be doing there but the pay seems generous. I’m not sure I’ll ever be a proper Town Mouse, but maybe I won’t be such a Country one from now on. So, from London with Love! Violet xxx
Three weeks had passed since she wrote that letter, and Violet was aware that the rather snooty woman who lived in the main house now had a much younger woman staying with her. She’d seen the car, parked a little way down the road, and had seen a tall man get out and retrieve cases from the boot. She’d also seen their fond hug when they parted. Could he have been her father? Anna, the maid, had fed her other snippets of information as Violet passed through the kitchen on the way to the servants’ staircase which led to her flat at the top of the house.
Thus, she was not entirely surprised when a very pretty girl came out of the main entrance of the house at the same time as her a couple of days later.
‘Good morning!’ said Violet. She had lived almost all her life in the country, and saying ‘good morning’ to everyone was natural to her.
Violet couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for this girl. She hadn’t met her downstairs neighbour properly, who she knew was called Lucinda, but she hadn’t seemed very friendly on the couple of occasions that they’d encountered each other. If this girl had Lucinda for a mother, she might not be enjoying life in London.
‘ Bon – er, good morning!’ said the girl.
‘I’m Violet. I live in the flat at the top of the house.’
‘Félicité – I mean Felicity now I’m in England. I’m staying with my mother in the bottom half of the house.’
‘It’s very nice to meet you.’ Violet smiled. ‘I’m on my way to work,’ she continued. ‘Do you know where you’re going?’
‘I think so. I went there yesterday with my mother. It’s a secretarial college.’
Violet nodded. ‘I know it. I pass it on my way. We can go together?’
Felicity smiled in agreement and they set off, walking side by side down the pavement.
‘I’m not accustomed to living in London – or any city,’ said Felicity.
‘Nor me!’ said Violet. ‘I wouldn’t be in London if my godmother hadn’t practically dragged me out of my house in the country!’ She laughed. ‘She meant well, of course. It is a huge house, and it’s practically falling down. There were reasons I had to move out.’ Violet still wondered if she’d done the right thing though. But her godmother had insisted. And as her good friend Jenny – who was a bit older than her but a very close friend – had also gone to live in France, staying there would have been very difficult.
‘That sounds like my home in France! I mean with it being huge and falling down a little bit. Although my home is full of people.’ Felicity sighed, giving Violet the impression she was homesick.
Violet was usually fairly shy but at thirty she felt it was her duty to be friendly to this girl who not only sounded French, but looked it too. Her clothes were so elegant. Next to her, Violet felt a bit frumpy, although she knew her new chin-length page-boy haircut suited her, even if it was plain brown. And she’d been surprised by how her fringe had drawn attention to her green eyes, which she now emphasised with eye-liner and mascara, using a technique learnt from a magazine.
‘So have you come to London to learn shorthand and typing?’ Violet asked.
‘Yes. And to live with my mother, of course. She didn’t bring me up, my father did. But now she wants me with her.’
‘Did you want to come?’
‘Partly. I wanted to spend time in Swinging London.’ Felicity laughed. ‘I don’t think it swings in this part of it.’
Violet joined in the laughter. ‘To be honest, I haven’t seen anything remotely swinging since I’ve been here.’
‘My stepmother says I should visit the King’s Road? Which is not far from here?’
‘That’s right. Also Carnaby Street.’
‘Would you show me one day? My stepmother – Alexandra – said I’d meet nice girls on my course but so far, I haven’t met anyone. They all wear clothes like their mothers wear and stare at me because I’m foreign.’
‘You haven’t been there long,’ said Violet, trying to sound encouraging. ‘There may be some super girls you just haven’t met yet. But of course I’ll come with you to visit Carnaby Street. We could go on the bus together.’
Felicity paused. ‘Have you met my mother? Formally, I mean?’
‘No,’ said Violet.
‘We must arrange it. She’s very fussy about who I meet. She says she’s arranging a tea party with suitable friends for me. I’ll ask her to invite you too.’
‘She might not think I’m suitable,’ said Violet.
‘She will. Your accent is appropriate and as you live in the same house as we do, your address must be too!’
They both laughed again. ‘I look forward to the invitation,’ Violet told her. ‘You’ll find me at the top of the servants’ stairs. Now, you go down there, I think, while I go along to the main road.’
Violet thought about Felicity as she continued her journey. Poor girl, coming from a house full of people to a formal, elegant house with a woman who appeared just as formal and elegant.
But as she neared the old print and antiquarian bookshop where she worked, she wondered if today was the day that she would finally meet her boss. Whenever she thought about the mystery boss she remembered her first day at the shop.
She’d been asked to arrive at eleven and as she neared the shop a man came out of it and got into a taxicab. The cab was full of suitcases and the man was wearing a rather dashing fedora and trench coat.
By the time she reached the shop the taxi had disappeared; nor was her new boss anywhere to be seen, and no one mentioned him as they welcomed her, apart from one person awkwardly explaining that her boss was away and no one knew when he would be back.
And now, three weeks later, there was still no sign of him. She couldn’t help wondering if the man who’d been so eager to leave the shop was indeed her boss, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to ask anyone.
While her colleagues were obviously used to working without him, none of them knew quite what to do with Violet. So, to keep herself busy, she tackled a huge pile of filing that seemed to have been neglected for years, looked through books of old prints and familiarised herself with the stock. She also took the office dog for long walks. He belonged to one of the partners but accepted exercise and biscuits from anyone. Violet liked exploring London as well as the canine company. There was a heap of smelly spaniels at home with her father, and she missed them.