Chapter Seven
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Oliver rang on the Saturday morning after the tea party. Lucinda, who answered, obviously felt it was too early in the morning for telephone calls and she handed the receiver to Felicity, who had dashed downstairs when she heard the telephone ring but had lost the race.
‘It’s Oliver.’ Lucinda sounded displeased.
‘Hello, Oliver!’ said Felicity in a friendly tone, in case he had heard her mother’s grumpiness, and then instantly worried that she’d sounded too keen. She never had this trouble with boys when she lived in France; she was always very relaxed with them. Oliver was different.
‘I wonder if we could go out,’ he said.
‘What sort of “out”?’ Felicity knew that her mother would be snooty if Oliver didn’t invite her daughter on the right sort of date. But she also knew Oliver wouldn’t be able to afford to take her to lunch at the Ritz, which was what her mother would think suitable.
‘What about lunch? Made by me. Served on a very attractive barge?’
‘Where you live?’
‘Yup.’
‘Is that a suitable first date? Would we be alone on it?’ It wouldn’t have been considered acceptable in France, Felicity was fairly sure, but maybe England was less strict.
‘I’ll invite other friends. Would that make it all right with your mother?’
‘I think so.’ Felicity vaguely wondered if she should ask Oliver to invite Violet but decided not to. She didn’t need a chaperone.
‘So you’ll come?’
‘You haven’t told me when or where!’
‘It’ll be on a Saturday. As soon as possible. Could you come next Saturday?’
‘As long as I’m not the only guest, yes,’ said Felicity, who wasn’t as sure as she sounded.
‘That’s wonderful.’ He paused. ‘How will you get here?’
‘I’ll take a taxi.’ Unlike Oliver, she had a generous allowance and had hardly spent any of it. ‘Can you give me an address?’
‘The Bell and Crown. It’s the nearest pub. I’ll meet you there. Or send someone to meet you.’
‘What time?’
‘Half past twelve?’
‘Fine. I will have to ask my mother first. But I’ll ring you if I can’t come. Could I leave you a message, somehow?’
‘Not really. You’ll just have to make sure you come.’
The way he said this gave Felicity a sudden flutter of excitement. She went to find her mother, trying to appear calm.
‘Oliver has invited me to lunch. I’m not the only guest. I did check. Can I go? It’s next Saturday.’
Lucinda studied her daughter thoughtfully. ‘At what time are you invited?’
‘Half past twelve.’ Felicity realised her mouth had gone dry. What would she do if her mother said no?
Lucinda sighed. ‘I suppose that will be all right. But I’ll want you to be back by three – half past at the latest. You have very little experience of young men. You mustn’t let yourself be taken advantage of.’
‘No, Mummy,’ she said meekly.
This wasn’t the time to remind her mother that when she’d lived in France there had been several young men who hung around her at the chateau. Also, Alexandra had given her lots of tips on how to keep herself safe, including keeping a pound note in her bra in case she became separated from her handbag. A couple of ways of dissuading them from laying hands on her had also been practised, her brother nobly standing in for a young man declared ‘N. S. I. T.’, which meant, Alexandra informed her, ‘Not safe in taxis.’
What no one had talked much about was how to behave if one was more than happy to experience physical contact. She probably had to work that one out for herself.