Chapter Fifteen
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Violet was surprised to find Felicity and Oliver waiting for her when she got back after her visit home. Kiki had arrived back sooner than expected so Violet had left earlier too, and it was six o’clock when she arrived in Cheyne Walk.
They pulled her into Lucinda’s drawing room and both started talking at once.
‘We haven’t got long,’ Felicity said, ‘Oliver’s father will be here any minute.’
‘I’ll explain,’ said Oliver. ‘It’s my fault we’re in this pickle. I told my father I lived here. I thought it wouldn’t matter, that he’d never know I didn’t. He can’t know I still live on a barge; he’d say I was leading the life of a gypsy and force me to go home with him immediately.’
‘So how can I help?’ asked Violet, confused.
‘You have to say that Oliver lives here and is your lodger,’ said Felicity. ‘That’s all right, isn’t it?’
‘No, it’s not all right,’ said Lucinda, appearing in the room without warning. Violet could tell that Felicity had no idea her mother could hear.
‘It would be quite unsuitable for a woman of Violet’s age to have Oliver as a lodger,’ Lucinda went on. ‘You must be Violet’s lodger, Felicity, and Oliver can be mine.’
All three of them stared at Lucinda. ‘Gosh,’ said Violet after a pause. ‘Well, I suppose that would be all right.’
‘But supposing he wants to see where Oliver sleeps?’ asked Felicity urgently. ‘My room is full of make-up and clothes.’
‘Rest assured,’ said Lucinda calmly, ‘Oliver’s father will not ask to see where Oliver sleeps. Now, Oliver? You arrange a tray of drinks for us all. Violet, you stay to add gravitas—’
‘Gravitas?’ said Violet, feeling offended.
‘Not gravitas precisely,’ said Lucinda, ‘more respectability. No one would suspect anything remotely underhand in your presence.’
Violet, who could have made her excuses and left, decided it would be worth staying for the entertainment. ‘I’ll just tidy my hair, if I may.’
When she returned to the drawing room a few minutes later, Violet said, ‘How can you be sure Oliver’s father won’t want to see his room? Wouldn’t that be natural?’
‘Trust me,’ said Lucinda with absolute certainty. ‘He will not.’
Felicity was beside herself with anxiety. Just the thought of meeting Oliver’s father, with hardly any notice, was enough to make her nervous, but knowing the whole plan was dependent on Lucinda – who hadn’t previously seemed like a mother who would put herself very far out for her children – was almost beyond enduring. But she had to trust her; there was no alternative.
Violet had retrieved some of her cheese-flavoured biscuits from her flat and they had been put in little dishes. Felicity had to remove them from Oliver’s reach or there wouldn’t have been any left before his father arrived.
‘Felicity!’ said Lucinda. ‘There’s a tin of sardines in the cupboard. Go and make something we can put on toast.’
‘But I—’
‘Come on, child! You were brought up in France – make something delicious!’
As Felicity went into the kitchen, she realised her mother was nervous too. She found she liked her mother for this; it showed that she cared what Oliver’s father thought too.
By the time Felicity heard the front doorbell, she had cut the crusts off triangles of toast and piled on mashed sardines with butter and lemon juice. She put the whole lot on a plate and carried it through as the door was opened. She and Violet exchanged glances. Felicity had the impression that Violet wanted to giggle.
‘Oliver,’ said a stern masculine voice.
‘Father,’ came Oliver’s softer tones. ‘It’s so good that you could visit. Come in and meet my landlady.’ There was a rather forced laugh. ‘Not that you could really describe her as that, she’s extremely elegant.’
Felicity saw her mother give a satisfied little smile as she overheard this.
‘And obviously kind, given that she’s putting up with you as a lodger,’ came the deep voice.
Felicity stiffened. Oliver’s father wasn’t even in the room and she disliked him.
‘Everybody!’ said Oliver, coming in. ‘Can I introduce my father? Brigadier Hector Ward.’
Felicity was forced to admit he was an impressive man. He was wearing a wool overcoat over a very well-tailored suit and his shoes were highly polished. Her mother, who always noticed fine tailoring, came forward to meet him. Her smile was all charm.
‘How do you do? I’m so delighted to meet you. Oliver is such a nice boy. He is an ideal lodger. Now, let me introduce you to my daughter, Felicity. She lodges upstairs with her old friend Violet.’ She laughed. ‘Young people, you know. She didn’t want to live with her mother when she could share with a friend, but at least she’s nearby. Can I relieve you of your coat?’
Oliver was at his father’s elbow ready to receive the coat as if this were a well-rehearsed action in a play. ‘And what can we get you to drink?’ said Lucinda. ‘Although I expect Oliver knows what you’d like.’
Introductions were made, drinks served. (Felicity noticed how very professionally Oliver did this, aided by the fact he knew exactly how his father liked his whisky.)
Violet refused a drink and got up to go. ‘I’m sure Oliver and his father have a lot to talk about.’
But before she could leave the room, Oliver said, ‘Do stay!’
Felicity also sent her a pleading look.
‘We don’t need to be in private for me to tell Oliver he needs a decent haircut,’ said Hector, who, it appeared, could ignore Oliver’s charm if he wanted to.
‘If you’re sure you wouldn’t like some privacy,’ said Lucinda. ‘Perhaps we can convince Violet to have a glass of sherry?’
‘That would be very kind,’ said Violet, sitting back down again.
Felicity could tell Violet wasn’t sure why she’d been pressed to stay, and Felicity wasn’t clear why either, but her mother seemed to be in charge so it was easier to just go along with proceedings.
‘It’s always nice to meet one’s children’s friends, don’t you think, Brigadier?’
‘Hector, please,’ said Oliver’s father. ‘And yes, you can judge a man by his friends, right enough.’
‘Perhaps now would be a good time to confess that Oliver and my little minx Felicity are “going out”, as they say these days.’ Lucinda gave her daughter an indulgent smile, but inwardly Felicity winced. She caught Oliver’s glance and felt better.
‘I can’t blame Oliver for that,’ said Brigadier Ward. ‘In this instance he’s showing some good taste.’
Felicity saw Violet put down her now empty sherry glass and get to her feet again. This time she successfully made her goodbyes and left the room.
Violet was glad to escape. While she appreciated farce as much as anybody, she didn’t feel she should be part of this one. She was too busy thinking about Jenny and hoping she would be safely back from France soon.
She’d hardly had time to decide if she wanted scrambled eggs or an omelette for her supper when there was a knock on the door.
‘Violet, please come back down! Oliver’s father wants to take us all out for dinner.’
‘He doesn’t want to take me out for dinner. He wants to take you and your mother out. I’d just be in the way.’
‘No, you must come! It’ll be too intense if it’s just the four of us.’
‘Shouldn’t Oliver and his father have some time alone?’
‘No! Oliver would hate that. But I can’t go on a double date with Oliver’s father and my mother, it’s just too weird! Though they do seem to be getting on extremely well.’
‘Maybe Oliver just needs to go out for dinner with his father and take what’s coming to him. Is he in trouble with his father?’
‘Always! Oliver doesn’t want to go into the army like both his brothers. He’s the wild child younger son who doesn’t have a proper job and wants to be a jeweller.’
This did seem a fair summation of Oliver, Violet thought. She sighed. ‘If you really want me to come, of course I will. But what will Hector think about it?’
‘My mother, who for once in her life is being useful, implied it would be better if you were there. Oliver has arranged a table already. I think he’s hoping that his father and my mother will want to have a private drink together after dinner, and we can all go home.’
‘I can go home,’ said Violet, ‘and you and Oliver can have a private drink too.’
‘I do love you, Violet. You are so understanding. Now do your hair and put some more make-up on.’
‘Anything for you, Felicity, but I still don’t really know why I’m invited.’
Dinner was in a glamorous Italian restaurant where, Felicity whispered to her, Oliver worked sometimes, which enabled him to get them a table and very good service. Violet noticed various winks and knowing looks between Oliver and the staff, but she doubted anyone who didn’t know his connection with the other waiters would spot it.
When Violet and Felicity went to the Ladies together, Felicity confided in her that Oliver also got good service because he was known for bringing groups of young people there and, thanks to him, the restaurant was fast becoming one of the places to go. ‘The trouble is,’ Felicity continued, ‘Oliver’s father doesn’t really like foreign food, as Oliver told me he describes it, but he couldn’t have got him a table somewhere English.’
‘I don’t know how you have managed to find all this out,’ said Violet, impressed.
‘I knew lots of it from before,’ said Felicity. ‘We’d better go back.’ She paused. ‘Do you think Oliver’s father fancies my mother?’
‘I’m afraid he might do,’ said Violet. ‘Would you mind?’
Felicity gave one of her Gallic shrugs. ‘She does like to have a man around, and although she has got fed up with Gerald, she hung on to him for quite a while, just so she wasn’t alone.’ Felicity frowned. ‘Do you mind not having a boyfriend?’
‘Not at all,’ said Violet, from habit. But as the evening progressed, she watched the delicate game being played between an expert woman and a less expert but discerning man. It would be fun to have someone to flirt with, she decided. But she refused to get downhearted about it. She might be on the shelf, but at least she wasn’t tied to a boring or unpleasant person. Being alone was preferable to that.
By now it was late and at other tables people were toying with tiny coffee cups and turning chocolate mint papers into wedding rings. Oliver had somehow dealt with the bill without involving anyone else. Violet caught herself yawning and wondered if she could leave the party without causing offence; then she decided she didn’t care.
‘I’m so sorry, everyone, but I feel I should go home. I’ve got an early start in the morning.’
It seemed everyone looked at their watches at the same time. ‘Goodness me! Is that the time?’ said Lucinda.
‘It is very late,’ said Hector. ‘How time flies …’ He didn’t complete the cliché and instead gave Lucinda a longing look.
‘Shall I find us a couple of taxis?’ said Oliver, who didn’t look sorry at the prospect of the evening coming to an end.
‘Lucinda,’ said Hector. ‘May I telephone you tomorrow morning? I’d very much like to take you out to tea before my train back to Scotland.’
Violet noticed how pleased Lucinda looked. In hindsight, the evening could not have gone better.