We'll Meet Again (6 page)

‘I’d love to drive this car,’ Meg said dreamily. ‘I can’t imagine what it feels like to be behind the wheel of something so powerful.’

‘You’d crash it before you reached the gates,’ David said, laughing. ‘I don’t think driving the farm truck around the fields qualifies you to be in charge of an expensive motor like this.’

‘I would like to bet that Meg could handle this machine,’ Rayner said, braking slowly as they reached the main road.

‘I’m sure I could,’ Meg said confidently. ‘If I can handle the rotten old truck I think this would be easy.’

‘Yes,’ David said, turning to look at her with a wide grin. ‘Like you could manage the punt, only you nearly drowned.’

‘I’ll lay odds on Meg,’ Frank said, reaching out to hold Adele’s hand. ‘How much are you willing to bet, David?’

‘I don’t think this is a good idea,’ Walter said cautiously.

‘Stop it. All of you,’ Adele cried angrily. ‘This is absolute madness. Meg really would kill herself if she tried to drive on proper roads and in a car like this. I don’t want to hear another word said about it.’

Meg could see Rayner’s face as he glanced in the rear view mirror. ‘I could do it,’ she muttered. ‘I could, if I had the chance.’

There were three large marquees in the college grounds. Chinese lanterns hung from the branches of the trees, creating pools of light in the lengthening shadows. The strains of dance music filled the air together with the chatter of voices and the sound of laughter. It was, Meg thought, like fairyland, or a scene from a glamorous Hollywood film. The men looked dashing in their evening suits, even the ones she might normally have thought of as being dull and boring. The girls in their ball gowns seem to glide over the lawns like flowers that had been gifted the power of movement by a playful Greek god. Meg felt slightly envious as she witnessed the apparent ease with which they conversed with their partners. Not for them the torments of shyness or the secret fear that they might trip over their skirts or make a social gaffe.

She clutched Walter’s arm as David led them into the largest marquee, where he found a table close to the dance floor. Fairy lights twinkled above them and there were candles amongst the flower arrangements on the tables. The scent of warm crushed grass mingled with the heady aroma of
Pimm’s combined with subtle hints of strawberries, citrus fruit, cucumber and mint. Champagne corks were popping all round them and the orchestra was playing a Viennese waltz. Meg was entranced by it all. This was like nothing she had ever experienced in her life. There had been the annual school dance, where the boys from the boarding school on the other side of the island were allowed to mix with the girls from Meg’s college, but the dances then had consisted of the veleta, the military two-step and the St Bernard waltz, with the occasional polka thrown in which often became a bit too rowdy for the harassed female teachers and the record on the gramophone was quickly changed to something less energetic.

Walter pulled out a chair for her and Meg sat down. At least she could come to no harm if she remained seated. She had been coerced into dancing lessons by her mother, but the teacher had admitted defeat after the first fortnight, declaring that very few people had the proverbial two left feet but she was the exception. She gazed around committing every last detail to memory. She felt quite inebriated already, although she had drunk nothing stronger that day than tea. She realised with a start that Walter was asking her to dance. She hesitated, but she did not want to embarrass him by a refusal.

‘I’m not much good at this,’ Walter said, as they bumped into another couple.

Meg hastened to reassure him. ‘I’m no expert
myself, so don’t worry. The very worst you can do is tread on my toes or I on yours.’

‘That’s true. You are a splendid girl, Meg.’

‘Thanks, I like you too, Walter.’

They managed to shuffle round the dance floor a couple more times, but by then Meg was hot and thirsty. As they edged their way to the bar, she had the feeling that Walter was quite happy to be released from the onerous duty of attempting the foxtrot. She opted for lemonade and Walter ordered half a pint of bitter for himself. When they returned to their table they found it deserted. Frank and Adele were dancing cheek to cheek, and Rayner was partnering a rather plump girl in an off the shoulder green satin gown that was a size too small for her ample frame. She looked, to Meg’s critical eye, like a peapod about to burst. David’s partner was quite the opposite: tall and skinny with braces on her teeth and a rather bad case of acne. He could definitely have done better, Meg thought, and was then ashamed of herself for being uncharitable. David was doing the right thing in partnering a plain girl. Perhaps she had not given him enough credit for sensitivity in the past. She turned to Walter. ‘Who are those girls dancing with my brother and Rayner?’

Walter glanced over her shoulder. ‘David’s dancing with Lavinia Langley. She’s reading history at Lady Margaret Hall, and her best friend, Thora Wyndham, is treading on poor old Rayner’s toes. I’ve forgotten what her subject is but they’re both supposed
to be really brainy as well as frightfully rich.’

‘David never mentions girls in his letters. Has he got a girlfriend?’ Meg watched critically as David whirled his partner around the floor with more enthusiasm than expertise.

‘All the girls go for David, but he likes to play the field a bit.’

‘And Rayner? Is that Thora what’s-her-name his girlfriend?’

‘I don’t think so. I can’t ever remember seeing him out with a female of any sort. He’s more interested in studying and taking flying lessons.’ Walter hesitated, looking at her with a wistful expression that reminded her of Rex, the cocker spaniel she had owned and loved as a child.

‘I haven’t got a girlfriend, Meg.’

‘That just goes to show that the girls in college aren’t all that bright,’ she said, patting his hand. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him about his feelings for her aunt, but she stopped herself just in time. It would be awful to embarrass someone as nice and kind as Walter, and it was probably just a crush anyway. Although, on the other hand, Walter was a bit old for something that people usually put behind them when they left school. She shot him a speculative glance but he was busy straightening his bow tie, and to her surprise he was blushing.

‘Do you really think so, Meg? I mean, I’ve never thought of myself as being attractive to women. Not like David and Frank.’

‘You’re a really nice chap,’ she said, hoping that faint praise was better than none at all. ‘You’re very likeable, Walter. I like you, and so does …’ she paused. She had been going to say that Josie was fond of him, but that would probably make matters worse. ‘And so does everybody,’ she ended lamely. She picked up her glass and gulped a mouthful of lemonade.

The music stopped and the couples drifted off to their tables. Meg craned her neck to see if Rayner escorted the rich and brainy Thora whatever-her-name-was back to her seat. She held her breath when he did, and smothered a sigh of relief when he left her almost immediately and began making his way back to their table.

Frank and Adele returned, holding hands and laughing. ‘Let’s get some champagne,’ Frank said, pulling out a chair for Adele. ‘We need to liven things up a bit.’

David strolled over to join them. ‘Did I hear you mention champagne, old boy?’

‘You did indeed. I was thinking that three bottles might do for a start.’

‘Good idea,’ David agreed enthusiastically. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’

Frank leaned over to brush his fingertips across Adele’s shoulder. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’

She smiled up at him and Meg stifled a sigh. Their feelings for each other were transparent as glass. She had never seen two people falling head over heels in
love, and it was an awe-inspiring experience. She was happy for Adele and only the tiniest bit jealous.

The orchestra struck up a quickstep and Meg’s mouth suddenly went dry as she realised that Rayner was standing at her side, holding out his hand. ‘May I have the pleasure of this dance, Meg?’

She stood up reluctantly. She had been willing him to ask her to partner him, and now her knees had turned to jelly. ‘I’m not terribly good at this one.’

‘I’ll teach you.’

Held in his light but firm grasp, she found herself whisked expertly around the floor.

‘You dance very well, Meg.’

She relaxed against him, breathing deeply and thinking that he smelt nice; a spicy mixture of sandalwood and vetiver together with a scent that was all his own. She could feel his warm breath on the top of her head as he held her close on the turns. His hands were smooth-skinned, as if he had never done a day’s manual work in his life, but as her fingers touched the back of his shoulder she could feel the ripple of muscles beneath the severe cut of his black evening suit. To her astonishment she seemed to be able to follow his steps without any trouble at all. Unlike poor Walter who had stepped on her toes more than once and she on his. Doing a foxtrot with him had been a painful chore, but she would have been happy to dance all night with Rayner, and she felt cheated when the music stopped and he led her back to their table.

‘You didn’t disgrace the family after all,’ David said, raising his glass to them.

‘Meg is a good dancer.’ Rayner handed her a glass of champagne. ‘I think you’ve earned this.’

She eyed David doubtfully. ‘Are you going to tell on me if I have a drop of bubbly?’

He shook his head. ‘Enjoy yourself, Meggie. I’m not playing the big brother tonight.’

She sipped the champagne, eyeing Rayner over the rim of her glass. She had not thought him particularly handsome when they first met, but now she was seeing him in a different light. His features might not be classic like Michelangelo’s David, but his eyes shone with intelligence and his firm jaw suggested strength of character. Never one to analyse her own feelings, Meg was astonished to find herself inexorably drawn to him. It was a strange and curiously thrilling experience. He glanced at her and she realised that she had been staring. She looked away quickly and covered her confusion by smiling at Walter.

He rose from his chair. ‘They’re playing a tango, Meg. May I have this dance?’

‘You can do the tango?’ She had not meant to speak so plainly, and she bit her lip as she saw his face fall.

‘I won’t know until I try.’

She hesitated, not wanting to hurt his feelings, but she could tell by the expression on his face that it was important for him to prove himself in front of his
friends. ‘I’ll have a go, but don’t expect too much, Walter.’

Within a few minutes her feet were bruised and he had almost dropped her on one of the turns. Even worse, he had barged into another couple and they had not been amused. ‘It’s no good,’ Meg said breathlessly. ‘I think we’d better call it a day, Walter. Perhaps the tango is a dance step too far.’

His shoulders drooped and she felt dreadful, but her silk stockings were laddered and there were black marks on her satin shoes. She returned to the table with Walter trailing behind her.

‘I’m sorry, Meg.’ He subsided onto his chair and reached for his drink. ‘It looks easy, but it isn’t.’

‘That’s okay,’ Meg said hastily. ‘It’s a silly old dance anyway. I can’t think what all the fuss is about.’

Rising from his seat, Rayner moved swiftly to her side. ‘Come, I’ll show you how they do the tango in Buenos Aires.’

‘Well, this should be fun,’ David said, putting his glass down on the table and grinning. ‘Show us how it’s done, old fruit.’

Meg laid her hand on Rayner’s outstretched palm and allowed him to lead her onto the floor. He held her close and within seconds they were immersed in the hypnotic sensuality of the dance. One by one the other couples stopped to watch Rayner and Meg moving as if they had partnered each other all their lives. The steps seemed to come naturally to her
under his guidance. She allowed herself to relax and trust him implicitly. Looking deeply into his eyes, she was under the spell of the music and erotic rhythm of the dance. Soon they were alone on the floor and when the music finally came to an end, there was a thunderous round of applause. Rayner bowed and held out his hand to Meg. He twirled her round so that she had her back to him and he clasped her to his chest. She could feel his heart beating, or perhaps it was hers? She could not tell which. She was drunk with elation. There were cries of encore, but Rayner led her back to their table.

Adele gazed at her with open admiration. ‘That was quite amazing, Meg.’

David rose to his feet and shook Rayner’s hand. ‘Didn’t think you had it in you. You’re a man full of surprises, you old Kraut. Where did you learn to trip the light fantastic?’

Rayner accepted a glass of champagne from Frank. ‘I visited Buenos Aires when I was staying with my uncle and his family on their coffee plantation in Brazil. On that trip I learned how to grow coffee and to do the tango. I’ve never found either much use, until now.’

‘Well, you realise you’ve set a precedent and now I’m going to have to prove myself on the dance floor, or I’ll never live it down.’ David cast his gaze around the marquee. ‘There’s Sheila Faulkner. I must go and impress her with my blinding quickstep.’ He strolled off, making his way through the crowd to a table on the far side of the marquee.

Frank rose from his seat. ‘May I have this dance, Adele? It seems that we all have something to live up to thanks to Rayner.’

She gave him her hand, smiling up at him as they made their way onto the floor. Walter pushed back his chair. ‘I’m going to the bar to get a proper drink. What about you, Rayner?’

He shook his head. ‘No thanks. I’m fine.’ He waited until Walter was out of earshot before turning to Meg. ‘Let’s get some fresh air. I find it very stuffy in here.’

Feeling as though she were in a dream, Meg allowed him to take her by the hand. She might have been imagining it, but she was convinced that she felt a tingle run up her spine as their fingers touched. She nodded wordlessly.

Outside in the college grounds the air was redolent with the perfume of roses and night scented stock. She breathed in deeply. ‘Shall we go for a walk by the river?’