An Indelicate Situation (The Weymouth Trilogy) (25 page)

Maggie felt that apologies on his side were quite unnecessary and that, rather, it was Miss Brewer who should be apologising to
him
instead. She looked at him sympathetically. He was such a sweet young gentleman – so innocent in many ways
, so keen to please. The thought flashed through her mind that Miss Brewer was a very silly young lady not to appreciate him for what he was. It
caught her quite by
surprise.

‘Oh, what a shame. I’m sure you would have enjoyed the play. I always used to enjoy my evenings at the theatre before my father died. There is something quite – oh, I don’t know – quite companionable about everyone watching the same thing at the same time. The atmosphere is most appealing.’

Mr Staveley was struck by a sudden thought.

‘Well – what say you to us going there together
then
, M
...
Miss Owens?’ he suggested, eagerly. ‘I have the tickets. It would be a p
...
pity to waste them. I should b
...
be quite de
lighted if you would agree to
come along.’

Maggie felt a sudden sense of – what was it? – disappointment, mortification? – that she should be invited only as an afterthought, a replacement for the young lady whom he would much
have
preferred to have
had
as his companion. She repressed it immediately. It was most kind of Mr Staveley to offer to take her with him. He did not have to
do so
, after all, and he had
obviously
done it
more to please her than
to please
himself. So she swallowed her pride, gave him a smile, thanked him sincerely and asked him to name the time when they should go.

Given Mr Staveley’s state of mind that evening – the disappointment over Miss Brewer comp
o
unding his lack of enthusiasm at the thought of the long trip to London – it was probably fortunate that the main play
happened to be
a comedy rather than
the
tragedy
that Maggie had half expected it to be
. Indeed, it was so rumbusti
ous and ridiculous a comedy – Mr Sheridan’s ‘The Rivals’ – that he was shaken out of his moroseness and into great guffaws of tearful
laughter
even before the first act was over.
Maggie, too,
was in need of some light hearted amusement, for, having dressed most carefully in one of her very best outfits – a dark rose silk, teamed with a very pretty ruby brooch – the single
remaining
expensive item inherited from her mama – she had suffered the misfortune of coming across Mrs William as she had awaited Mr Staveley in the hall prior to their departure. Mrs William’s sour appraisal
of her
, and her muttered words of ‘acting well above herself’ as she passed her
by
, had served to rob Maggie
of
all
her excitement and almost
made her
wish that she had said that she would not go. But no sooner had the play begun than she, too,
found herself laughing uncontrollably –
although this was
quite
as much at her companion, whose ebullient laughter was totally infectious
,
as at the antics on the stage.
Despite the hardness and discomfort of the seating, and the heat engendered by several hundred bodies in an extr
emely constrained
space, she found that she was thoroughly enjoying the evening – and it appeared that her companion was
happily
doing the same.

‘I do not know why I am laughing so m
...
much, M
...
Miss Owens,’ he confided during a slightly less riotous interlude. ‘After all, I have to have some sy
...
sympathy for that
poor woman, M
...
Mrs M
...
Malaprop. We are
both of us completely at the m
...
mercy of how we say our words.’

In a break between the acts Mr Staveley –
once again
wiping his eyes with his handkerchief and still shaking with laughter – suggested
that he should
obtain an orange
for
each
of them
from a
lady who was standing nearby.
Maggie agreed that this was a fine idea and, after a short wait, he returned triumphant, oranges in hand. To the consternation of both of them it turned out that although the fruit was delicious it was also extremely juicy, and to eat it with any semblance of propriety was therefore totally impossible. Maggie caught his eye and pulled a face.

‘I hope you do not mind me getting sticky,’ she said. ‘I regret that I am getting as much of this orange on my hands as I am in my mouth.’

‘
As am I,’ he confessed in return
,
fishing about in his pocket for a moment
.
‘Here – p
...
please m
...
make use of
my handkerchief
, M...Miss Owens
. You are looking m
...
most beco
...
becoming in that very
pretty gown of yours. I should hate you to sp
...
spoil it.
Per
...
perhaps I could place the handkerchief
on your
lap?
Even so, i
t is a good
job
that you are not too nice about this sort of thing
. I shall not ob
...
.object should you determine on licking your
f
ingers.’

This was maybe a little too much in public but Maggie appreciated
both
the offer
and the compliment,
and surreptitiously wiped her fingers on
the
handkerchief instead.

Despite the length of the play and the long journey ahead of him the next morning, Mr Staveley appeared to be singularly reluctant to return to Grosvenor Place at the end of the performance. And indeed, it was a lovely night – cool and starry, with a gentle breeze directing the waves to the shore.

‘Do
...
.do you p
...
particularly want to
retire just yet, M
...
Miss Owens? I thought we m
i
ght enjoy a short stroll together along the Esp
...
Esplanade. It is such a lovely evening, after all.’

Maggie, too, thought that a short walk together along the Esplanade would be preferable to an immediate return indoors so Mr Staveley offered her his arm and they wandered off s
lowly in the direction of Glo
ster Row.
A silvery moon had risen, floating in the dark night sky. They could see it reflected, shimmering, in the lapping waters of the bay. The scent of seaweed filled the air, reaching them on a gentle south
-
easterly breeze.

Mr Staveley was talking about the stars.

‘Can you see that one over there – the slightly b
...
brighter one,
Miss Owens? That is
known as the North Star. It
remains in m
...
much the same p
...
position in relation to t
he north
pole all the time so we can use it
a good deal to navigate b
...
by. It is a little m
...
more difficult when we are south of the equator – we have to look
f
or a
particular
constellation
.
And then we have to use our sextants in order to work out exactly where we are.
It can b
...
be a little tricky, though
one can get quite good at it
after a while.
Luckily it is the ship’s m...master who takes prime responsibility for navigation, though all the officers need to be able to navigate as well.
It is the m
...
mathe
...
mathematics that I
f
ind difficult
.
And, of course, when it is overcast or rainy we cannot see the stars at all!’

‘So you see the stars as tools, Mr Staveley
?
I
daresay
you must have to. But for those of us of a more romantic
disposition
the stars are much more magical than mere tools
can
be
. The way in which they glisten and wink – like tiny jewels in a velvet sky
– and the depth of them – look - they go on for eternity
. I find them quite breathtaking.’

Mr Staveley stopped and looked up
at them
for a moment.

‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘I have to agree. There is no m
...
more b
...
beautiful
a
sight, whilst at sea, than a
sparkling sky on a
f
rosty night.
And then, the night skies in the Carib
...
Caribbean – they
have an
almost ink
y texture. The stars there, though b
...
bright, seem – well, al
...
almost soft by co
...
comparison.
But to me it is that which m
...
makes them
so
magical. Utility and b
...
beauty all in one
. What
more could anyone ask
f
or?’

‘I should like to have
the opportunity of visiting foreign lands,’ said Maggie, pensively, ‘to see the similarities and the differences between them at first hand. I should like, one day,
to make a start with Jersey or Guernsey. After all, the packet boats go straight
there
from Weymouth quay. I might even manage a trip there on my own.’

‘You would b
...
be wise to choose a calm day, then, M
...
Miss Owens. I should hate to think of you getting seasick. I think I have m
...
mentioned b
...
before just how
horrible
that can make one
feel. I have
visited the
Islands
most infrequently. I should like to see them again
some time
.
P
...
perh
aps, if I have to wait a while
for m
...
my
commission
, you will allow m
...
me to
escort you there
?’

Their promenade
had led them beyond the Royal Hotel and they now stood together,
Maggie still clasping Mr Staveley’s arm,
listening to the peaceful waves as they quietly lapped to the beach
. Just for the moment there was no
-
one else around – not a horseman, not a carriage, nor anyone else on foot – only the faint sound of raucous laughter emanating from the public bar at the front of the Royal Hotel to
emphasise
the silence of where they
were standing. Maggie could feel a wave of happiness and contentment pass over her as she stood there, the gentle breeze flut
tering her silk
gown a little, taking in the darkness of the
water
and the twinkling stars way above it.
She breathed in deeply.
She felt, at that moment, that there was nowhere else on earth that she would rather be than
here -
standing on the Esplanade
with Freddy
,
feeling the closeness of his strong body as she held his arm,
looking
together,
silently
, far
out to sea.

Without quite realising it they had selected
a resting place not twen
ty yards away from Mr Brewer’s property on the opposite side of the
road
a
nd just as they turned to amble
back home they heard the sound of a door opening, revealing the bright light of that gentleman’s hallway behind. Their eyes unwittingly drawn
towards the light
,
they both had a view of Miss Brewer, looking more beautiful and more dainty than ever in an obviously most expensive evening gown, and of the back of Mr Augustus Rowley
-
Jones, who was just then engaged in bowing extremely low
and lingeringly
over her
elegantly outstretched
hand.