The Factory Girl (37 page)

Geraldine let her thoughts wander. What
would
Alan be doing at this minute? Perhaps he wasn't with his parents at all but surely he wouldn't be sitting on his own? Perhaps he had gone to friends. He must have friends. One of those could even be female and unattached. Geraldine felt her skin prickle with sudden jealousy. He was still a young man, a handsome and confident young man now with his own business who, despite all he'd said, could still attract young women and one day would be attracted by one, forgetting about her, laying her aside as futile, married, inaccessible, out of reach, to be given up on. That he'd once said he would never forget her intimated he would wait for her forever, yet he was eligible to be snapped up one day.

But this was silly! To put a stop to the idiotic pricking of her skin, Geraldine leapt up from her chair.

‘I just need a word with Tony,' she said by way of excuse to a startled Clara. ‘Be back in a moment.'

It helped sitting herself down next to him, Wally having gone off for another beer. She needed to be near Tony to disperse the inane jealousy that was invading her. She spent the rest of the evening at his side, and he in turn seemed relieved to have her there, giving her to realise that she had been guilty of ignoring him. Maybe that was why all this time he'd been sitting with a long face. Alan Presley faded into oblivion as she saw Tony buck up immediately.

From looking bored out of his head he didn't say once about leaving early, which he might have done had she continued to leave him on his own, and she took heart that with a little encouragement from her maybe he might come around to her folks. Thus she vowed to do her utmost in future to bring him and her family together again. They'd been estranged too long and it was her fault, not theirs.

It hadn't lasted – maybe for the first couple of months into 1924, consenting to have the odd Sunday dinner with her family, though she could see Tony was never truly at ease with them, nor they with him. It was more trouble than it was worth and soon she had stopped pushing him to go.

Now, six months on, he was back to his old self, eager to socialise with his own friends, glowering if she as much as mentioned their seeing her people, but apparently not too unhappy if she in turn cried out of seeing his friends. It was as though it no longer mattered to him whether she went with him or not.

True, they'd spent that Boxing Day on their own, which in one way was nice and cosy but in another rather worrying: firstly because she could have enjoyed it with her family eating up the cold meat with pickled onions and leftover potatoes and sprouts mashed together to make tasty bubble and squeak; and secondly because they'd not been invited anywhere by anyone who mattered, almost a punishment of a sort for Tony not taking up that earlier invitation to Ernie and Cynthia Bulwalk's Christmas shindig in Chelsea – to Geraldine's mind containing an almost ominous message.

New Year, however, made up for all that, and she was conscious of breathing a sigh of relief in spite of having chided herself. It had been a wild time, after the Chelsea Ball going on to Sam Treater's substantial place around three in the morning. The house party had continued into the next day, everyone awash with fatigue and too much to drink but no one willing to be last to fall down. She and Tony had got home, or rather staggered home, Tony's driving appalling, in the early hours following New Year's Day, everyone having spent New Year's Day itself flopping about the place that in the cold daylight stank of cigar smoke and stale perfume, indulging in idle, mostly meaningless chatter, coming out with silly quips no one particularly listened to, much less appreciated; picking at smoked salmon and caviar and drinking champagne the moment they'd sufficiently come to and getting sozzled all over again, only half aware of where they were but quite content to be there; falling into armchairs or on to some bed to doze beside whoever already occupied it.

Geraldine wandering around looking for Tony, had found him spark out beside Di Manners, she also dead to the world. She remembered standing in the centre of the bedroom trying to take in the scene. At first there had been shock seeing them together like that, then hurt, but after a while it receded as it came to her that while Di was under the bedclothes, he lay on top of the covers, fully dressed, probably with no idea of the person next to him. Diana too was still clothed, one arm flung above the covers to reveal the glittering strap of her dress still in place. For a while Geraldine had studied that pretty face, composed even in drink, eyelids delicately closed, rosebud lips soft and yielding. Had he kissed those lips?

She had shrugged off the thought as ridiculous. Radical thinking had returned, or at least she had thought it so – though today, six months later, she wasn't so sure but still shrugged away the thought as impossible, Tony still loving and thoughtful towards her – as she had tiptoed from the room.

That evening at the nightclub he had been so attentive, now and then she'd caught him giving herself sideway glances that had made her smile. He and Di? Not a chance. Besides she'd noted that he didn't once glance towards the refreshed and by that time vivacious Diana.

At home she and Tony had fallen into bed utterly exhausted and very much dishevelled. Next morning it was she who'd had to pull herself together to go down to open the shop, feeling well out of sorts, and realising for all her high time that she hadn't enjoyed herself half as much in the company of her so-called friends with their society manners, their rich food, haute couture dresses and expensive jewellery as she had having Christmas with her own family with their ordinary ideas of enjoyment, in clothes to make Tony's friends turn aside in horror, but their common manners princely beside that of the people Tony mixed with. It wasn't beyond any girl in those circles to entice a man not her husband to bed. And in the early hours of New Year's Day she too had been propositioned by Paula's fiancé Harry Sullivan, his paws all over her despite those around them.

‘That dress y'nearly wearing,' he'd purred, well oiled by that time, ‘it's getting me going no end. Mus' be hard keeping it from falling down, my dear. So what d'yuh say we get together somewhere and I c'n help make you more comfortable? So what d'yuh say, eh? Yeah?'

Tony had bought her the dress for Christmas, spending far too much money on it. She hadn't dared to wear it at Mum's and draw disapproving looks at such a daring thing – the back of the heavy silk satin in electric blue draped so low that it was a marvel, even to her, how it didn't slip off her shoulders but for the skilled cut of it, the draped edges held together by a huge bow resting on her left buttock. Harry Sullivan's roving hands had almost had it off one shoulder at one time, her breast in danger of exposure, such a plunging back not tolerating a brassiere.

Managing to get away from him, she'd been glad Tony hadn't seen him, though Tony had gone missing much earlier, spark out on the bed Di had already found, or so she'd assumed at the time. It was Harry Sullivan following her everywhere that had made her go seeking protection from Tony, only to find him fast asleep with that Diana Manners beside him.

Again, thinking back on it, she hated this constant agonising over whether what she'd seen hadn't been as innocent as it had first appeared to her. Over these months the question had raised its vile head more than once and more than once had been dismissed as foolish. It was wrong. She had nothing to suspect Tony of. He was always attentive, so nice, so generous, bought her little presents, took her out and about. He hadn't changed towards her.

True, they didn't make love as often as once they had but that was how marriage became, and when they did make love she always hoped that this time she would become pregnant. So far that hadn't happened and she now wondered if perhaps she couldn't have another baby, that something might have gone wrong when she'd given birth to Caroline. The fall she'd had prior to giving birth, had it done something inside?

True also that Tony was away from home even more often than he used to be. It was the growing frequency of demands being made on him, he told her. More than any other suspicions she might have had that concerned her, the dowdy Kate Meyrick's sinister hints concerning Tony, which should have faded long ago, still surfaced from time to time though Kate had never spoken of it since.

Chiding her vivid imagination, Geraldine spent the rest of the summer determinedly shrugging it off as she shrugged off thoughts of any possible infidelity on Tony's part.

‘Gerry, darling, there you are!'

The voice assailed her from a little distance away, necessitating Geraldine, with her cloche hat pulled low over her eyes both for fashion sake and to protect them from the bright sunshine, to tilt back her head to see who was calling her.

It was Easter. She and Tony were at Brooklands for the motor racing, picnicking with friends beside their two cars, as was everyone else. Family tourers were everywhere, their tops down on such a lovely day, parked higgledy-piggledy on the grass by the stand, picnic tables set, cloths spread, their owners lolling contentedly eating the goodies they'd brought along.

It was good being with the two they were spending the day with. Rex and Maggie Drake weren't of the usual crowd Tony mixed with, the man merely in the same line of business as he, a jeweller. They'd met them last year at the 1924 Paris Olympic Games. A casual exchange had revealed the man's business and naturally he and Tony, discovering a common bond, had struck up a friendship that still continued. Rex Drake's business, however, was in Birmingham so the friendship was mostly by telephone or letter. The couple, who had two growing-up children, had come down on a visit a couple of times since, and she and Tony had gone up there once. Today, Rex being keen on racing cars, they had met up for a picnic here at Brooklands. An extremely nice couple, Geraldine was sure they were 100 per cent above board, totally honest. Completely at ease with them, she wished all Tony's friends were like this.

It was Tony who by stretching his neck caught sight of Paula Griggs, the one who had called out, dragging her new husband along behind her. Now Paula Alcott, she and Jimmy Alcott had finally got married the week before Christmas, a wedding that she and Tony had attended, the whole thing very Christmassy.

The usual crowd had been there. The usual crowd seemed always to be there no matter where she and Tony went: at every house party, at nightclubs, at functions, at the Grand Prix motor racing circuits abroad, abroad again to spend a fortune in the casinos in the South of France after bathing, sun-lounging and wolfing down heaps of food.

Being summoned to a huge Christmas party last year had prevented her going to her parents, to their chagrin, which still rumbled on a good three months on. But Tony had been firm on that, they were expected to be with their friends for once, which had meant Christmas Day itself.

Paula, coming up to them, flung herself down beside the four of them uninvited while Tony got up to stand beside an impassive-faced Jimmy Alcott who appeared to see it beyond his dignity to squat on the grass.

‘I was told you were here, Gerry darling,' Paula gushed. ‘William Schulter and Sam Treater are here too with their wives. Cynthia said she caught a glimpse of you earlier on but you disappeared … Do you mind if I have one of your delicious sandwiches, my dear?' She was helping herself even as Geraldine glanced across at Maggie for confirmation.

Taking a large bite, Paula closed her eyes in pleasure. ‘Mmm! Smoked salmon. Jimmy and I had such a silly little luncheon, all salad and airy-fairy egg-things – cost him the very Earth but couldn't have sustained a flea!'

She was settling herself down for a long session. ‘We're all going on to a restaurant after this.'

‘What, now?' exclaimed Geraldine, which caused Paula to laugh raucously.

‘No, my sweet! After the racing's finished. We're all planning to eat there this evening – a rather delightful old hotel place down the road from here. I forget which village it's in, but it's there. You are coming, aren't you – you and Tony and your friends? We haven't been introduced yet, have we?'

‘Paula, this is Rex and Margaret, Maggie,' Geraldine leapt in. ‘We met last year at the Olympics. This is a friend of me and Tony's, Paula Alcott, and,' she looked up at the thin, dour figure standing over her, ‘this is Paula's husband, Jimmy.'

There came nods and how-d'you-do's, Rex smiling, about to stand up to offer the man a sociable handshake, but his smile falling away as it was met by a curt nod and an unbending expression. So Rex stayed seated, resuming his earlier position of one knee bent, one arm resting on it, the other supporting himself in a sitting position on the grass. Geraldine noticed him give Jimmy Alcott a bewildered look that he switched to Tony and herself as though he was deducing what Jimmy Alcott was and searching his thoughts as to why she and Tony associated with such a person. As Paula prattled on, Geraldine felt herself grow hot with embarrassment, knowing exactly what the Drakes thought of these interlopers to their erstwhile peaceful picnic.

‘I don't think we'll be coming,' she burst out on impulse. Paula's grey eyes widened in a somewhat offended way. Above her Jimmy Alcott cleared his throat in a small double cough, the cough sounding significant.

‘Oh, but you really must come,' Paula was saying. ‘You'll be the only ones out of us all not there.'

‘Yes, of course we will,' came Tony's voice from above her.

Paula's eyes resumed their normal size. ‘So that's settled then. We'll be off around six after a drink at the bar here.'

She gave a glance at the other two, though refraining from addressing them to their face. ‘You can invite your friends along as well, of course. The more the merrier!'

The Drakes having left earlier than intended, saying they had enjoyed their day and hoped to do it again but needed to get home to their family and it was a long drive back, the evening was spent at the restaurant Paula had indicated. Last to arrive, the others there already, immediately put Geraldine ill at ease.