Fragile Blossoms (5 page)

They then travelled to Russell Square in silence, Julia’s lips afire and Freddie pale and troubled. Evie is fabulously wealthy. Widow of the Rhode Island railroad man, Sidney Bevington-Smythe, she makes money, she says, just by being. The Honourable Frederick is heir to a name but no fortune. When his parents Lord and Lady Baines Carrington sent him into the world it was not to return with the hand of an impoverished widow. Evie says he’s meant for the American market. ‘Those girls come with the best calling cards money and might. What hope for impecunious children like Freddie when all he has to recommend him is a pedigree.’

Nan was another keen to point out the dangers of fortune-hunters. Last week they stood in the terraced garden watching carriages arrive at the Lansdowne House, or Greenfields, as it is now known. ‘Why Greenfields?’

Nan had shrugged. ‘I don’t know but whoever they are they’re not gentry.’

‘Is that not promising for Bakers End?’

‘It’s not promising for anyone. The newly rich don’t know how to spend. They buy up old houses and hang dead animals on the walls. And they won’t use local trade. They’ll pay exorbitant prices ordering from the Army and Navy Stores thinking it makes them gentry.’

‘At least the house is in use.’

‘Not for long.’ Nan was determinedly downcast. ‘Folks like that are always looking for bigger and better. Gentry stay till the walls fall down. No ready cash they huddle in one room eating sardines off silver plate. What’s the use of a title if your walls are porous and you can’t pay the baker’s lad?’

Julia was not inclined to judge. ‘People must survive the best way they can.’

‘Aye and there’s plenty men as likes a bit of fun while surviving so mind you keep your treasure under lock and key.’

‘I doubt I’m in danger.’

‘You think not?’ Nan had smiled grimly. ‘Greenfields leans against your property. One look at you and the boss will come runnin’. Keep the doors locked. You don’t want a fly-by-night playing fast-and-loose with your heart.’

‘And Lady Carrington says I am to wear this?’ Julia and Bella, the maid, gaze into the mirror. Bright scarlet with black satin ribbons the corset is Evie’s sly rebuttal to a plea for a sober gown. ‘A little bright, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Milady says if you’re dull on the outside you must glow from within.’ Bella sighed. ‘I think it’s pretty, madam.’

‘You’re tired.’ Julia regarded the maid in the mirror. ‘Sit while I do my hair.’

Frock stretched across a swelling stomach Bella perched on a stool. ‘You’re quick with your hair, madam.’

‘There’s a trick to it. I’ll show you if you like and you can do the same for Lady Carrington.’

‘I don’t do Milady’s hair now. My hands won’t let me.’

‘They do look rather swollen.’

Bella hid her hands behind her back. ‘It’s the baby. It goes to my ankles too.’

Julia’s heart went out to the girl. This is a large household and she’s but a child bearing another child. ‘How old are you, Bella?

‘Sixteen come August.’

‘That’s young for a lady’s maid.’

‘I was learnin’ to be a dresser. I can’t now.’ Bella scowled. ‘I hate this baby. It’s ruined my life.’

‘You mustn’t say that. You must look to the future. See how I loop my hair low back of my neck? Practice and you could do it next time I’m here.’

‘I’ll not bother, thank you. I’ll not be seein’ you again. I leave tomorrow.’

‘Will you go to your mother’s?’

‘I can’t. She won’t want me this way.’

‘She doesn’t know about the baby?’

‘I daresn’t tell her.’

‘Forgive me for asking. The father, can he help?’

‘No.’

‘So where will you go?’

‘There is a place.’

‘What kind of a place?’

A tear slid down Bella’s cheek. ‘A place where girls like me go.’

Julia snapped the last pin in her hair. Then she turned. ‘I leave for Norfolk on Sunday. Would you like to come with me?’

Bella sat up. ‘Come with you?’

‘You’d have to share a room and I couldn’t pay much, probably only food and board at first. Best you think about it.’

‘Must I think?’ said the girl wearily. ‘Can’t I just come with you?’

‘Let me speak with Lady Carrington first.’

‘Do you think Milady will mind?’

‘I’m sure she’ll be pleased for you.’

Julia called the Nelson enquiring of Matty. Nan answered, or rather shouted. ‘
Hello then, Anna, can you hear me
!’

‘Yes I can hear you.’

‘
Are you sure? It’s a long way
!’

‘It is a long way even so I can hear you. How is Matthew?’

‘
Oh don’t worry ‘bout him! He’s been out with Luke fishin’.
’

’Did they have fun?’

‘
I don’t know about fun
!
They didn’t catch anythin’ but judging’ the racket they made comin’ in they had a grand old time
.’

‘That is so kind of your son.’

‘
Luke loves the lad as do we all
.’ There was silence then as though Nan were meditating on her comment. Then she was back and shouting even louder. ‘
I’m off! I’ve things to do! Be careful! London is a big place. I’m goin’. Did you hear what I said... Anna? I am puttin’ the thing down now...!
’

Julia was in the conservatory feeding caged Love-birds. Her gown is beautiful. Blue silk overlaid with a skim of darker tulle, the bodice low across the bosom, it is stark in simplicity, the only touch of light the diamond clip in her hair.

Owen would say fine feathers make fine birds. Heavy silk with many underskirts the gown weighs heavy and yet with every minute that passes this particular bird feels as though she is stripped naked.

‘I say, Ju-ju, remind me to look at you next time I mix my colour palette!’

A fairy between giants Evie is coming through the loggia. She strips paint-splashed cuffs away and talks in a lisping drawl that accompanies too much wine. ‘John, you remember your strawberry milkmaid? Well, today she’s a River Maiden, her soul wrapped in ice. Beware all who fall beneath her spell.’

John Singer Sargent bowed. ‘Good evening, Mrs Dryden.’

‘Good evening, Mr Sargent.’

Evelyn gestured. ‘Julia was keen to proclaim her widow status tonight and wear black but was persuaded to wear blue and as you see it works well with such glorious copper hair.’

John Sargent smiled. ‘I believe this lady beautiful whatever the colour of her gown. Mrs Dryden, may I introduce my friend, Daniel Masson?’

‘How do you do, Mr Masson?’

‘Your servant, ma’m.’

‘What kind of introduction is that?’ Evelyn dragged Daniel forward as though producing a gorgeous buck-rabbit from a top hat. ‘This is Daniel Greville Masson, American cousin of Lord and Lady Brooke, the Warwick Grevilles. No doubt you’ve heard of him, Ju-ju. Prize-winning writer and journalist, hero and fighter of wars, he is a man in the mould of Livingstone and Stanley!’

Daniel Masson visibly winced. ‘I don’t know that I regard myself as any such being. I am a newsman and writer but beyond that a complete nobody.’

‘You’re too modest!’ Evie patted his arm. ‘I envy you, happy male that you are free to travel the globe from one end to the next without ever needing to put down roots. It must be so exciting.’

‘Don’t envy me, Lady Carrington. A news-man’s life can be exciting but more likely downright tedious. As for travelling there’s been many a place I wanted to put down roots but always found the present incumbent preferring his.’

Evie laughed. ‘We do like to hold onto our own. Be it ee’r so humble, as the dear Queen would have it. Are you drawn to one country more than the next?’

‘I’m drawn to many but lethargic by nature I’d sooner it not beset by war.’

‘That limits your choices somewhat, Daniel,’ said John Sargent.

‘Yes, John, as I have found.’

‘And your stay here?’ Evie took his arm. ‘It is of peaceful intent?’

He bowed. ‘Peace, Puccini, and the pleasure and privilege of an hour in Mrs Dryden’s company.’

Julia looked up. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Ah
mia culpa!
’ Evelyn bit her thumb. ‘In all the rushing about I forgot to say it was Daniel who asked you to sit not John. Do you mind terribly, Julianna?’

‘Not if it has been arranged.’

Red faced, Daniel Masson stepped forward. ‘Excuse me, but that’s not right. Pushed at you like this it is an imposition.’

‘It’s alright,’ said Julia. ‘I am happy to sit for you.’

‘Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you uncomfortable.’

‘Ju-ju can’t be uncomfortable.’ Evelyn put her arm about Julia’s waist. ‘She is a statue, cool and quiet as marble and thus never at odds with the world.’

The silence was broken by a shout. Freddie has arrived.

Charles Dickens maintains every house has its secrets, London houses especially: ‘
an ancient city in an ancient land every footfall rattles somebody’s bones.
’ Friday evening the bones in Russell Square were surely rattling. Evelyn was a tipsy butterfly flitting from one guest to another and leaving them dazzled. Everyone was ill at ease. The most obvious tension was between Freddie and Daniel Masson. Tall, fair, and with natural grace both men were alike in looks. Tail-coats and white weskits, their apparel was similar, the only difference in the
boutonnières
, Freddie sporting a pink rose and Daniel white frangipani. That they had met before was apparent. They clipped hands and stepped back with such cold disdain one might’ve thought Evie’s drawing room a forest glade at dawn and a Second drawing attention to a brace of pistols.

Uncomfortable, Julia retreated to the Hall and stood gazing at a mural, a representation of the Last Supper where the Lord Jesus Christ was depicted as a lion and the apostles grouped about him other animals.

Daniel Masson joined her. ‘What do you think of this, Mrs Dryden?’

‘I think it rather splendid. A lion seems right for the Lord and St John as a deer. I always imagined him a gentle sort of fellow.’

‘And Judas, a Billy-goat?’

‘I’m not sure about that. My father had another view of Judas, a heretical view, I might add. His congregation was small and very conservative. If aired his opinion on many things would have sent him, and us, packing.’

‘I guess he knew when to draw a line.’

‘He did.’

‘My father was a business man. He saw everything through the mighty dollar. He knew one animal from another. In Judas Iscariot he would have seen a snake. What was it your father saw that sets his view apart?’

‘He saw a man more loyal than we are taught to believe.’

‘Ah well, I do see how that opinion might be seen heretical.’

‘My father had many such thoughts along that line. He would say the truth like the bible is open to debate, one must search for it.’

‘And the truth was important to him.’

‘Yes and to me.’

‘Then with that in mind, Mrs Dryden, I need to talk to you in private.’

‘Really? In private?’

‘Yes and before tomorrow if possible.’

Freddie was at Julia’s elbow. ‘What are you two discussing so closely?’

‘The mural,’ said Julia.

‘And did you come to any conclusion?’

‘Not really,’ said Daniel. ‘Mrs Dryden and I were just playing with ideas.’

‘Playing with ideas?’ Freddie took Julia’s arm. ‘Aren’t we all?’

Freddie assisted Julia into the first carriage and sat opposite.

They were pulling away when Daniel Masson climbed aboard.

‘If you don’t mind I’ll share with you Carrington.’ He flopped in the seat beside Freddie. ‘The cab back there is awful tight for us tall guys.’

The carriage rolled away. Twenty minutes later, the road heavy with traffic, they’d hardly progressed. Freddie rapped on the roof. ‘What’s taking so long?’

The driver shouted back. ‘There’s a horse down in Cambridge Street, sir.’

‘Well cut along the back there! Much longer and we’ll miss the first half.’

‘If the road’s blocked and people and cabs affected won’t the house delay the start?’ said Daniel. ‘They do in Philly when the weather’s bad, though having said that a minute late in Bayreuth and you’re locked out.’

‘Been to Bayreuth have you?’ said Freddie.

‘I caught a couple of performances last year.’

‘What did you see?’

‘
Gotterdammerung
. I thought the music swell.’

Freddie’s nostrils flared. ‘Swell?’

‘Yes, swell.’

‘Wagner’s not to everyone’s taste. It requires discipline and commitment. In ’87 Evie and I sat through the whole of the Ring Cycle here in London.’

‘That’s some achievement. And you just a lad in short pants.’

‘I was old enough to appreciate genius when heard.’

‘And what are your thoughts on the man we are to hear tonight, Senor Giacomo Puccini? Is he a genius?’

‘I have no thoughts. It would be like comparing the ballet to Burlesque.’

Daniel yawned. ‘I have a liking for Burlesque. It’s good to laugh. John is a fan of Stephen Foster. We sing his songs all the time.’

Freddie curled his lip. ‘You don’t say.’

‘My father quite liked Stephen Foster’s music,’ said Julia, trying to ease tension. ‘And so it would seem were the ladies who lived in my cottage. I found copies of his music in the piano stool.’

‘Well what do you know?’Daniel Masson grinned. ‘The parallels are stacking up. One or two ore incidents like that, Mrs Dryden, none too heretical, of course, and our meeting will be what I’d call fortune and my mother fate.’

The first two Acts of
Butterfly
were a carnival of colour and sound. The curtain coming down for Intermission Freddie grabbed Julia’s arm. ‘Come along! Forget about applauding! We’ve a booth reserved in the upper bar. If we scoot along now we’ll have time for a bottle of fizz
and
a bite.’

‘Thank you, I prefer to stay here.’

‘Oh come on, Julianna! Any second the orchestra will be on the run, the Pit will give up shouting, and we’ll be lucky if get a glass of beer.’

‘You go, Freddie. I prefer to stay.’

‘I can’t go and leave you here alone.’

‘Mrs Dryden won’t be alone,’ said Stefan Adelmann. ‘I too prefer not to plough through the scrimmage.’