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Authors: Margaret James

Tags: #second world war, #Romance, #ATS

The Penny Bangle (24 page)

BOOK: The Penny Bangle
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‘I know it’s wrong. I know it’s very bad of me, to be seeing someone else’s husband, but I can’t help myself. They say although we can’t help what we feel, we can still make the proper choices. I’ve decided that’s a lot of rot. Where Simon is concerned, I don’t have any choice at all. If we can’t be together, I shall die.

‘I do hope I shall see you soon. When do you think you’ll get some leave, and when can you come up to Chester? I want you and Simon to be the greatest friends!’

But all the drivers were kept very busy, and Cassie found she couldn’t get any leave. She wanted to see Frances, and of course to meet this paragon who’d made off with her heart.

But it looked as if he’d have to wait.

She managed to arrange a few hours off to fit in with a job in London. She got a lift from Aldershot, and arrived in Piccadilly on a lovely, crisp October morning.

Daisy had said that if she timed it right, she might get a surprise. So she was looking forward to finding out what this surprise might be.

She made her way along the crowded pavements, bought some orange chrysanthemums for Daisy from a vendor with a barrow, and turned right up Park Lane.

When she arrived at Daisy’s flat, the butler let her in. He took her flowers and hat and coat, and told her that Miss Denham was soon expected home.

‘But Mr Denham is in the morning room,’ the butler added, as if it was the most natural, common thing in all the world.

Cassie couldn’t believe she’d heard him right. ‘M-Mr
Robert
Denham?’ she began, as she felt a glow suffuse her face.

‘I believe so, miss.’

She couldn’t think how Daisy had arranged it. But it was true, and there he was, lost in some kind of daydream, staring out of the window at the traffic in Park Lane.

Cassie just stood and gazed for several seconds, beside herself with joy, happier than she’d ever been in her entire life. ‘Rob?’ she whispered, scared to break the spell, still hardly daring to believe it.

‘Hello, Cass,’ said Stephen, turning from his silent contemplation of the traffic far below. ‘Sorry, love – wrong twin.’

‘Oh – Steve – what a surprise, how nice to see you!’ She couldn’t believe she’d just said that, because it wasn’t nice at all.

It was as if she had been slapped across the face, and for a second or two she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move, she couldn’t do anything at all but stare in disbelief.

But then she battened down her bitter disappointment, and walked across the morning room to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Well, Steve,’ she managed, ‘h-how have you been?’

‘Up and down – you know,’ said Stephen, shrugging. ‘I had a few bad spells in summer. So they changed my medication, and told me to lay off the booze. It seems to help a bit. But without a whisky now and then, my life seems very dull.’

‘Dull, my foot!’ cried Daisy, who now came bustling in, immaculately dressed in the smart green uniform of the Women’s Voluntary Service. ‘Hello, my little sparrow,’ she said brightly. ‘It’s very nice to see you, and don’t you look pretty? I suppose it must be love! Many congratulations, anyway.’

Daisy kissed her future sister-in-law, and then she smiled archly at her brother. ‘Cassie,’ she went on, ‘you mustn’t take any notice of this moaner. I have it on the best authority that he’s been seeing some nice girl from Shropshire. They were noticed smooching at the Florida. Then, last Friday evening, he took her to the Ritz. He’s also been seen squiring several other lovely women round the town – a rather attractive WAAF, I’m told, and a somewhat saucy-looking Wren, the naughty boy.’

Stephen glowered, but Cassie forced a smile. ‘How are you and Ewan?’ she asked Daisy.

‘We’re both fine, my darling, but busy, busy, busy. My goodness, do excuse me!’ Daisy yawned behind her hand. ‘Poor Ewan’s filming almost every morning, we have matinees most afternoons, stage shows every evening save for Sundays – when of course we go to church, ha ha – and fire-watching all night. I get up rather late most mornings, me.’

‘How’s your mother?’

‘She’s all right,’ said Stephen, who was still looking cross – Cassie supposed with Daisy. ‘She – she’s very happy for you and Rob.’

‘Yes, she’s thrilled,’ said Daisy. ‘You’re the blue-eyed girl, mainly because of that sweet dog you gave Mum when you went to Melbury – he’s a
huge
success! They’re practically inseparable now.’

‘I’m so glad that’s worked out well,’ said Cassie, wishing she could go and have a cry, for she felt so let down and disappointed.

‘Now for the surprise.’ Daisy winked conspiratorially at Stephen and then she hurried from the room – and for a moment, Cassie thought, she hoped, she prayed, that Daisy had gone to fetch her other brother, after all.

But it was not to be. Daisy came back wearing a big grin and carrying a large, flat cardboard box.

‘Go on, Cassie, open it,’ she urged.

‘But what is it?’ Cassie asked, perplexed.

‘Oh, come on, my darling, I’ve a matinee at two o’clock!’

Daisy yanked the lid off, rummaged through the layers of tissue paper, and finally took out something which was made of pale blue cloth. ‘It’s a two-piece costume, tailor-made for you,’ she said to Cassie ‘Stand up straight. Let’s see if it will fit.’

‘But where, but how – ’

‘I got it from the States.’ Now Daisy was unbuttoning Cassie’s jacket. ‘My natural mother lives there, and her husband Nathan works in wholesale. I sent them all your measurements, and this is the result.’

‘How did
you
know my measurements?’

‘I pinned you into that blue dress, remember? I just measured it. So – if you haven’t been stuffing yourself with stodgy army food, and putting on a lot of weight, it ought to be exactly right.’

Daisy held out the skirt to Cassie. ‘Go into my bedroom, there’s a love, and put the whole thing on. You’ll find some new silk stockings on the bed, and a pair of high-heeled, dark blue shoes beside the wardrobe.’

So Cassie did as she was told.

The two-piece costume fitted like a dream. It was cut to flatter, and so it added artful curves to Cassie’s narrow hips and schoolgirl bosom, and showed off her trim waist.

The cloth was soft and finely woven wool. The quality was excellent, and the colour suited Cassie perfectly, flattering her skin tone and bringing out the dark blue periwinkle of her eyes.

When she looked in Daisy’s full-length mirror, Cassie saw a lady, all dressed up to go and meet her friends.

‘Very nice,’ said Daisy, when Cassie went to show them.

‘Yes, it really suits you,’ added Stephen.

‘Thank you,’ Cassie said.

But she knew she wasn’t half as grateful as she should be. This lovely two-piece costume must have cost a fortune. But she would have given a thousand pretty costumes to see Robert for a minute, for just one split second of being in his arms.

She went and changed again, laying the jacket and skirt on Daisy’s bed, and wondering when she’d ever have a chance to wear such things? If she’d ever mix in social circles full of people who went out to do their shopping dressed in clothes like these?

‘Steve,’ said Cassie, as she rejoined them in the sitting room, ‘have you seen Frances recently?’

‘No, I’m afraid I haven’t, because she’s been so busy.’

‘Oh?’ said Cassie, now wanting to tease somebody, and wanting to pay Stephen back because he wasn’t Robert. ‘What’s she been doing, then?’

‘You won’t believe it, but she’s having an affair.’ Stephen suddenly looked like an offended maiden aunt, his mouth pursed up in disapproval. ‘She wrote and told me.’

‘She wrote and told me, too.’ Cassie grinned at Stephen. ‘Oh, Steve, your face!’ she said. ‘You can’t be jealous?’

‘Of course I’m not, don’t be absurd,’ retorted Stephen huffily. ‘But you must admit it, getting involved with someone like this Simon Helston fellow, or whatever he’s called, it’s not like Frances.’

‘You mean, because he’s married?’ Cassie shrugged. ‘She says he and his wife have lived apart for seven years. Mrs Helston doesn’t understand him.’

But it was soon obvious to Cassie that Stephen didn’t want to talk about Frances and her lover, and now he changed the subject. ‘Daze,’ he said, ‘have you told Cass about your scheme?’

‘What scheme is this?’ asked Cassie, wondering what else she might get sprung on her that afternoon.

‘Cassie, darling, pop into the kitchen and ask Mrs Jimp to make us all a cup of coffee, then I’ll tell you.’ Daisy smiled mysteriously. ‘In fact, my love, I’d welcome your opinion. I’m hoping to get you and Rob involved, as well as Stephen here – that’s if he’s interested, of course, and if he isn’t buried alive in Shropshire, busy being a country squire.’

‘How will you find the money?’ Cassie asked, when Daisy had explained.

‘I’ll ask all my rich theatre friends, of course,’ said Daisy airily. ‘I’ve also got some funds put by already, and those will be enough to start us off.’

‘But you’ll need a regular flow of cash to run this place, to pay the staff to look after the children, to take them out, and all that kind of thing?’ Cassie looked at Daisy. ‘You’ll need cooks and gardeners and cleaners?’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Daisy. ‘I
have
thought of that, and this is what I’m going to do. I’ll organise it as a charity, set up some kind of trust, get people to remember it when they make their wills.’

She reached across a table for a large brown envelope. ‘I’ve found this house near Southwold,’ she continued. ‘It’s huge, well-built, Victorian – it’s ideal. It has eleven bedrooms, seven bathrooms, a lovely kitchen garden, a paddock for some ponies, great long lawns. There’s a cottage for a housekeeper, some stables and some barns. It’s close enough to London, but it’s still in the countryside. It’s near a gorgeous beach.’

‘But Daisy, didn’t you want to buy the Minster?’ Cassie asked, remembering the conversation in the London taxi all those months ago. ‘I’d have thought the Minster would be ideal for this?’

‘I tried to buy the Minster, but the owner wouldn’t sell. Anyway, my sparrow, Southwold might be better.’

‘Why?’ asked Cassie.

‘As I said, it’s close to London, and that’s quite important, actually.’ Daisy looked at Cassie, blue eyes bright. ‘These past few months, I’ve been doing voluntary work in the East End. I’ve been horrified by the conditions in which some children live. They’ve got no chance, poor things. Their homes are filthy slums, they never wash, their diet’s dreadful, and their parents – the less we say about some of
them
, the better. I was talking to Ewan about it, and he said, why don’t we buy a place?’

‘You’re going to give up acting, are you?’ Cassie asked.

‘Probably not,’ said Daisy, and she smiled candidly. ‘Of course, we won’t be able to do anything about it until the war is over. But it’s worth doing, don’t you think?’

‘Yes, it’s well worth doing.’ Cassie glanced up at the clock. ‘Look at the time,’ she said. ‘I must be going. I have to pick some colonel up at one.’

‘You’ll come again, and stay?’

‘Of course I will.’ Cassie kissed Daisy on her powdered cheek. ‘I need to go and see my granny some time, but I’ll come and see you and Ewan, too.’

‘You like the costume, don’t you?’

‘Yes, I do – it’s lovely.’ Cassie smiled. ‘You’re so kind to me, and I’m so grateful, honestly.’

Stephen said he’d walk with Cassie to the army garage where she’d pick up the staff car, so although she really wanted to walk there by herself, she had to let him tag along.

He was still somewhat grumpy. Daisy’s gentle teasing about the girl from Shropshire must have touched a nerve, decided Cassie, and this must be why he was so cross.

‘Daze and Fraser should have children of their own, and that would keep them occupied,’ he muttered, as he and Cassie turned into some mews off Oxford Street.

‘Why don’t they?’ Cassie wondered, not realising she’d said the words out loud.

‘I don’t know,’ said Stephen. ‘Perhaps they do want children, but they haven’t come along. Or maybe Daisy doesn’t want a baby. Maybe she’s afraid she’d spoil her figure. She’s so ambitious, after all, and so is Fraser. If they had any children of their own, they’d probably be a nuisance. They would get in the way. As Daisy said, she’s busy, busy, busy, and she loves to boss us all about. So maybe this is just her latest stunt, organising seaside holidays for kids from slums.’

BOOK: The Penny Bangle
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