A Dream of her Own (39 page)
Beattie’s smile was genuinely grateful and Constance had the feeling that they were conspirators as the older woman continued, ‘And Matthew happened to remark that it wouldn’t be long before her friend Constance would be able to receive her in a much larger and more gracious house. That’s all, really.’
‘Oh, Constance, you mustn’t let John know that I’ve said anything. I can only imagine that he wants it to be a lovely surprise,’ Rosemary said.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. But I really would be very grateful if you would tell me where this new house of mine is going to be.’
‘I don’t know, really I don’t.’ And Constance could see that she was telling the truth.
Not long after that Rosemary and Miss Beattie took their leave and, in spite of her assurances to the contrary, Constance wondered if she would ever see the girl again. She realized, sadly, that she didn’t much care. What was much more worrying was that her husband’s friendship with Matthew Elliot seemed to be so close that it was possible for John to trust Matthew with intimate details of his marriage, such as his wife’s loneliness, and even to discuss and plan moving house.
After Rosemary’s visit, which she owed to John and Matthew apparently, she felt more isolated than ever.
‘Sit down, everyone. Make yourselves comfortable. I have engaged this private dining room so that we will not be disturbed,’ Harry said.
Harry looked good, Lucy thought. The occasion, afternoon tea at his hotel, was only semi-formal so he had chosen to wear a light grey flannel lounge coat with matching waistcoat and trousers. He could not altogether disguise his theatrically florid good looks, but this afternoon he was playing the part of a respectable and prosperous businessman. But then, Lucy mused, there was no real deception involved, for Harry Bodie had made a success of his theatrical career as both actor and manager and he was indeed prosperous.
At Harry’s request Lucy had attired herself in her most tasteful outfit. She loved colourful fabrics with lots of frills and beaded embroidery. However, today she had allowed herself only a scattering of pink satin rosebuds sewn on to the high-standing collar of her cream satin blouse. Her tailored costume was of moss-green lightweight woollen cloth. She thought the shade went perfectly with the delicate red tint she had applied to her hair.
Nella, on the other hand, seemed to have made no attempt at all to pretty herself up. Lucy turned her head and stared critically at the girl sitting next to her. Even though they were indoors Nella was wearing her cloak. Well, she would have to, Lucy supposed, but she could have chosen a bonnier one.
The cloak was one of the smoky-grey velvet ones that Nella wore on stage, and Lucy could glimpse that, underneath it, she wore a matching dress. Perhaps she feels most comfortable in those clothes, Lucy thought. But I wish she had let me do something to her face. She stared at that face now. Nella’s delicate features were attractive enough - in fact very fetching, Lucy acknowledged grudgingly - but they were so pale. The girl had refused all Lucy’s attempts to get her to wear some make-up.
‘I don’t want to look like a painted doll!’
she’d said.
she’d said.
But she had, at least, made an effort with her hair. Piling it up on top of her head like that was the latest fashion and it suited her heart-shaped face. The soft tendrils of curls that she had teased out around the hairline looked more natural than artful. And, yes, perhaps the girl was right, make-up would have spoiled that delicate effect. Then Lucy sighed as she remembered that the illusion of grace and beauty would be shattered as soon as Nella took off her cloak.
Valentino looked as if he was going to burst with excitement. He was sitting, good as gold, between his mother and his younger brother, and the three of them looked like something out of a melodrama, dressed all in black as they were. Madame Alvini has probably worn black ever since she was widowed, Lucy thought, but why do the boys have to wear dark clothes? Probably because they know how attractive it makes them look. Even the younger one looked masterful.
Frank Alvini might not be big and handsome like his brother but there was something about him, something in those intelligent dark eyes that suggested hidden depths. Lucy wondered if he was spoken for and then laughed at herself for being taken with a boy young enough to be her ... She didn’t let herself finish that thought.
‘No, don’t leave us, lad. Here’s your place, next to Miss Nicholson.’
Lucy looked round to see Harry gesturing to that young scarecrow Jimmy Nelson to come and join them at the table. The lad looked respectable enough in a suit that was certainly new but he must have been unsure whether he was welcome to join the family at the table. He had been about to leave the dining room.
Bless Harry, Lucy thought. It’s good of him to include the boy; he probably knows how important he is to Valentino.
‘And I’ll take the chair at the head of the table.’ Harry took his place with an expansive smile. ‘The paterfamilias, yes?’
Harry couldn’t resist showing off. Lucy didn’t know what paterfamilias meant and she doubted if any of the rest of the guests did either, although she saw Frank widen his eyes and then conceal a smile, so perhaps he did. But then he was educated. A medical student, wasn’t he?
So there they all were: Harry at the head of the table with Madame Alvini on one side of him, Valentino next to her and his brother Frank next to him. Lucy sat at Harry’s other side, with Nella next to her and Jimmy Nelson at Nella’s other side. The result of this seating arrangement was that Valentino, towering above the savouries and the sandwiches and the cream cakes, could stare straight across at Nella to his heart’s content. And stare he did. He looked as if he intended to eat her up. Lucy controlled a shudder of unease.
She glanced across at Madame Alvini and got a shock. The old lady was looking at Nella, too, and she was smiling as if there was absolutely nothing wrong with the girl. But surely she knew ... Well, if she did she had obviously decided to ignore it.
‘Let us enjoy this repast before we discuss those matters that are dear to our hearts,’ Harry said, and Lucy wondered if he had been carried away by the occasion and had slipped into one of his old acting roles in some high-falutin family drama. She supposed he couldn’t help himself. And then he turned to the old lady with an expression of sincere humility. ‘I do hope these refreshments will meet with your approval, Madame Alvini.’
The poor old thing looked puzzled. ‘My approval?’
‘After all,’ Harry continued, ‘I am perfectly aware that your renowned establishment has set the standard for all other restaurants in Newcastle.’
On her right Nella suppressed a giggle and Valentino, no doubt seeing her smile, laughed out loud. Although he hasn’t a clue what he’s laughing about, Lucy thought, he’s simply happy because he thinks Nella’s happy.
After that Harry had the sense to keep quiet while they all tucked in and, when the waiters had cleared the table, he asked them to bring fresh pots of tea and coffee.
‘And, now,’ he said, ‘the reason that we’re here.’ He paused and the silence went on for so long that Lucy wondered if he was flummoxed for once; Harry Bodie actually lost for words. ‘We’re here because ... because Nella and Valentino ... these two fine young people ...’
His words trailed away and Madame Alvini stared at him anxiously. ‘My son—’ she began, but Frank Alvini interrupted her.
‘My brother has expressed a wish to marry Miss Nicholson.’
There, he’s said it, Lucy thought and everybody turned to look at Frank. There was something about the younger Alvini that was altogether impressive, she thought. Sitting there so composed and confident and so completely in control of the situation.
‘Er, yes,’ Harry said. ‘And Nella ... er, Nella thought it best that certain things should be made clear—’
‘It’s all right, Harry.’ This time it was Nella who interrupted. She pushed her chair back from the table as she spoke.
What’s she going to do? Lucy wondered.
She stood there quite still just as if she were on the stage at the beginning of her act, but instead of a spotlight, the afternoon sun streamed in through the ceiling-high windows to bathe her in a shaft of golden light. Her fine blonde hair shone like a halo. Very dramatic, Lucy thought. She’s a born actress. And then she held her breath as Nella raised her hands to pull at the ribbon ties of her cloak. When she had loosened them she pushed the cloak back ever so gently and let it fall gracefully on to the chair behind her.
‘Valentino,’ she said.
‘Nella?’ The big man looked at her expectantly. He frowned slightly with puzzlement.
She didn’t say any more. Instead she began to turn round so slowly that, no matter where they were sitting, everybody at the table would get a good look at her from all angles. Three-quarters of the way round she stopped so that she was almost sideways on to Valentino. He couldn’t possibly fail to see the way her twisted shoulders threw up the hump in her back. Lucy could hardly believe what she was seeing. Was the girl totally without common sense? Was she trying to put Valentino off?
Eventually she completed her turn and looked straight at her would-be suitor. So did everybody else, Lucy noticed. He was still staring at her with a half-puzzled smile. There was no sudden shock or expression of disgust, only the same adoring expression as before.
‘Valentino,’ Nella said, ‘do you still want to marry me?’
He looked amazed. ‘Of course.’ He glanced round at everyone present and smiled at them as if Nella might have just made a joke but he was prepared to indulge her. ‘That’s why we are here, isn’t it? So that our wedding can be arranged?’
‘Yes, my son, that is why we are here.’ His mother was looking at him lovingly and, if she had been shocked at what she had just seen, then she was concealing it very well.
Frank said nothing but Lucy could see no objection in his gaze, only a kind of sadness. She heard Harry clear his throat.
‘Well said, young man,’ he mumbled, and something about his voice made her glance at him swiftly. She was just in time to see him take a clean white handkerchief from his pocket and dab at his eyes.
Nella sat down again and Lucy turned to look at her. She was smiling a funny little smile and Lucy saw with dismay that her eyes were moist too. Lucy leaned towards her. ‘For goodness’ sake,’ she whispered, ‘don’t start blubbing or you’ll set me off as well.’
She was relieved when Harry stood up and smiled down the length of the table at Jimmy Nelson. ‘Jimmy,’ he said, ‘may I prevail upon you to go and attract the attention of the wine waiter? Tell him it’s time to bring in the champagne.’
Chapter Twenty
‘Nice place you’ve got here.’ Nella stood in the middle of the airy drawing room and raised her eyebrows appreciatively. ‘And from the looks of you, you’ve moved house just in time!’
Constance, lying with her feet up on a new chaise longue, smiled at her friend wearily. Nella looked more theatrical than ever. Today a confection of silk flowers and lace seemed to be woven into her hair and a few soft wisps had been teased out to frame her face. The fabric of her dress, sheer delaine, Constance knew to be a mix of wool and cotton; John had experimented with it for a series of graceful day gowns. He had rented tiny shop premises in Northumberland Street and installed a manageress and two seamstresses. There was no need for his uncle, Walter Barton, to approve this venture as Matthew Elliot was still funding the enterprise.
But it was easy to see that Nella’s outfit had been made by someone with an eye for drama rather than high fashion. The cerulean fabric seemed to be moulded to Nella’s body at the front, accentuating her tiny waist, but at the back the fabric hung from a high yoke in the graceful folds of a false cloak and almost obscured her deformity. It’s like an optical illusion, Constance thought.
‘What’re you grinning at?’ Nella demanded suddenly but she grinned herself before taking her place on a small sofa. None of the furniture had been arranged properly yet and there were still a few packing cases ranged together near the door.
‘I’m smiling because I’m pleased to see you,’ Constance said. ‘Polly and Mrs Green won’t let me do anything to help—’
‘I should think not!’ Nella interjected.
‘—and, to tell you the truth, I’m going out of my mind with boredom.’
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