Chapter Twenty-Four
CHAPTER
TWENTY - FOUR
Felicity got her bag out, ready to pay the taxi and automatically looked up at the house. Seeing there was a light on in the top window, she realised Violet must be back from her Christmas in the country, which was a huge relief. She was very fed up with having to think about all the ghastly repercussions she would have to face when her mother got back from Scotland, and had realised long since that being on her own in the house for the rest of the holidays would be gloomy. Anna, the maid, wasn’t due to come back for several days.
As soon as she was through the front door, she dropped her cases and ran up the stairs to Violet’s flat and tapped on the door. Violet opened it – and although she certainly hadn’t intended to, Felicity burst into tears.
Violet guided her to a spot by the gas fire. She put a glass of something strong and warming into her hand and a box of Kleenex by her.
‘I’m going to make something to eat,’ Violet said. ‘Would you like an omelette?’
Felicity took a sip of brandy and realised she hadn’t eaten anything since the previous night, apart from a couple of bits of bacon stolen from the dining room that morning when no one was in there eating breakfast. ‘Thank you. You’re being so kind. How was your Christmas?’
‘I’d rather hear about yours. But let’s eat.’ Violet opened a cupboard and produced a box of her favourite cheese biscuits.
‘You always seem to have these in your flat,’ said Felicity, having taken several.
‘They come in handy at all times,’ Violet said. ‘Now, you stay there while I make you something more substantial.’
A few minutes later, Violet presented her with an omelette and a fork. Felicity tucked in.
Gradually the food and alcohol made Felicity feel a bit better.
‘So?’ said Violet, taking the empty plate, obviously sensing that Felicity had a lot to get off her chest.
‘It was dreadful, Violet. I was so excited by the thought of having Christmas in Scotland with Oliver, but I hadn’t realised how awful his family were.’
‘You knew his father was – bombastic.’
‘Yes, but everyone else was horrible too. They kept mocking my French accent, which I don’t think I’ve got—’
‘How very rude.’
‘Have I got a French accent?’
‘That’s not the point. It’s extremely rude to make personal remarks. They must be very common people.’
Felicity found herself laughing in spite of being so miserable. ‘They would be horrified if they heard you suggesting they were common! They were all such snobs. And they also implied I wasn’t brought up properly because I couldn’t do their vile Scottish reels.’
‘Oh? Was there a ball?’
‘If you can call it that,’ said Felicity bitterly. ‘Everyone, even the women, were covered in tartan and wore ghastly flat shoes and very full skirts. The men threw the women around as if they were those logs of wood they seem to like tossing. And as I was always going in the wrong direction, I was as bruised as a banana the next day.’
‘Didn’t they give you any chance to learn the dances?’ asked Violet.
‘No. The ball was on Christmas Eve. It was at the neighbours’ house, which was even colder, with more dead animals and weapons on the walls than Oliver’s father’s castle. I’ve never been so cold! It was even colder than Provence in winter, which I assure you is very cold indeed!’
‘Did you not have enough warm clothes?’
Felicity sniffed. ‘Mummy did make me buy a tweed jacket and warned me to bring more jumpers and to wear long skirts but I was going to see Oliver. I wanted to look …’
‘Glamorous?’
‘Yes! But there was no point anyway!’ Felicity felt her tears return as she remembered. ‘Oliver’s “best friend from childhood”, who happened to be a very attractive girl, rushed up to him the moment we arrived at the ball, flung her arms round his neck, and stayed there for ages.’ Felicity took a breath. ‘His sister-in-law told me, at the very first opportunity, how this Imogen and Oliver had been unofficially engaged since they were at school.’
‘How did Oliver handle it?’
Felicity sighed, casting her mind back to those dreadful moments she had come across him kissing Imogen – the image was seared in her memory. But when she’d confronted him later – had he looked guilty? Apologetic? She still couldn’t work it out, even now. They had had the most terrible row.
‘I don’t know how he feels about her. They certainly danced a lot together. Although maybe he was forced into it. I gave up trying to dance after a while.’
Violet appeared a little worried. ‘What did you do instead?’
‘I found a sofa with a rug on it, and a very nice man – older but kind – brought me whisky. He gave me his card and wrote the number of the house where he was staying – I can’t remember where he said it was now. I think he hoped I’d ring him when I was back in London. On his London number, obviously.’
‘But you’re not going to?’
‘Well, I might! In fact, I rang him on Christmas night.’
‘Oh, love!’
Felicity was very grateful to Violet for sounding sympathetic and not as if she’d done something dreadful, although she knew that really, she had. ‘I know!’
‘So how was Christmas Day? Were you still freezing?’
‘It was better. There was a tartan rug on my bed and I wrapped it round my legs and pinned it with kilt pins. Luckily there were a couple in a little pot on the dressing table.’
‘Oh.’
‘It looked fine, I promise you.’ Felicity found herself laughing at the memory. ‘I thought about what Lexi, my stepmother, would do if she was cold and decided making a skirt out of a rug was definitely the answer. I’d put on all my pairs of tights too as well as my jeans. Luckily, I had a wide belt for the top. It was a bit itchy but looked quite good, I thought.’
‘What did your mother think?’
‘Luckily for me, she and Hector only had eyes for each other, so she didn’t really notice. I think I got away with it.’ Felicity took a deep breath. ‘Frankly, me looking slightly eccentric is nothing compared to me running away. She’s going to be absolutely livid with me! She’ll probably lock me up and not let me out until hell freezes over, or even a couple of weeks after that.’
Violet laughed. ‘What will Oliver think?’
‘I don’t care what Oliver thinks!’ Felicity was angry. ‘He abandoned me. He could have danced one wretched Duke of Abelone’s Strathspey—’
‘Is that a real dance?’ asked Violet.
Felicity shrugged. ‘Possibly. They all have very long names with people in them, mostly dukes. Though I did make that up. Honestly, bloody Oliver! It’s entirely his fault that Angus gave me whisky and his card.’
‘Absolutely. So when did you decide to run away?’
‘When I realised that absolutely no one would notice or care if I did. No one liked the presents I gave them. Lovely handmade soap from Provence.’
‘Jenny gave people that and everyone loved it.’
‘I overheard someone say that they thought French people never washed so why was I giving them soap?’
Violet looked outraged. ‘No wonder you ran away, Felicity! I would have left too!’
Felicity suddenly felt overcome with relief. ‘It felt like the right thing to do at the time, but I’ve had hours and hours on a train to think about my actions, as my mother would say, and now I fear I did the wrong thing.’ She paused. ‘I left a very apologetic note. I don’t know if it will stop her wanting to kill me though.’
‘She will be cross, certainly. But maybe not having you there, being miserable, will mean she and Hector can have more time to get to know each other.’
A thought suddenly occurred to Felicity. ‘I’ve just realised. If Mummy and Hector get married he’ll be my stepfather. That would mean I couldn’t marry Oliver even if I still wanted to.’ She cleared her throat, suddenly feeling tearful again.
‘There’s no blood tie. It should be all right,’ Violet said. ‘Although the thought of Hector as a stepfather is terrifying.’
After Felicity finished the wine she progressed to the brandy. She was desperately tired but didn’t want to leave Violet’s cosy sitting room.
‘Why don’t you sleep here tonight?’ Violet said, possibly guessing how she felt. ‘Jenny’s sheets are still on the bed, but we can change them. The main house will be cold and lonely.’
Felicity instantly felt happier. ‘I don’t mind Jenny’s sheets! Can I stay? That would be wonderful! I was so desperate to get away I didn’t really think about being in the house on my own.’ She paused. ‘But where is Jenny?’
‘She stayed in the country. She doesn’t have a job she has to get back to.’
Something about the way Violet said this made Felicity say, ‘Was I right? Does she love your father?’
Violet nodded.
‘And how do you feel about that? Are you happy? Or do you feel betrayed? I ask because although I loved Lexi before she and my father became – friends, I did feel a little jealous. I was worried that my father loving her would mean he would love me less. I’ve since realised this isn’t true at all, but at the time I was worried.’
Violet didn’t reply immediately and Felicity guessed she had mixed feelings.
‘I think I’ll be very happy when my father has told Kiki he’s not interested in her, and when they are properly together. At the moment I just feel a bit – odd.’
A yawn took control of Felicity.
‘You must go to bed,’ said Violet quickly. ‘I’ll bring up your case and then you’ll have everything you need.’