We'll Meet Again (3 page)

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Authors: Lily Baxter

BOOK: We'll Meet Again
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‘Darling, how lovely to see you again.’ Josie enveloped her in an affectionate hug and a cloud of Mitsouko perfume. ‘Come inside, Meg. It’s still chilly in the evenings.’

‘Addie’s just insulted the taxi driver by under-tipping him.’

‘No matter, darling. Freda will sort it out. Go and warm yourself by the fire in the sitting room and I’ll wait for Adele.’

Shrugging off her linen blazer, which was stiff with salt and probably ruined after her excursion on deck, Meg hung it on the coat stand. She wandered into the sitting room, which was furnished in an ultra-modern style. It was, she thought, just like the illustrations in the expensive magazines that Mother bought and left lying on the occasional tables when she was entertaining ladies from the various committees of which she was a member.

The carpet was cream with a geometric design in black, and the fawn leather sofa and armchairs were art deco in style. Although, if Meg were to be entirely honest, perhaps the rather theatrical décor might seem a little at odds with the high Victorian ceiling, the ornate plasterwork on the cornices and ceiling
rose, and at variance with the black marble fireplace inset with tiles decorated with flowers and seashells. She moved closer to the hearth and flopped down on one of the armchairs. The leather expelled air like a sigh, or something slightly more embarrassing.

Josie ushered Adele into the room. ‘Make yourselves comfortable, girls. You can tell me all the latest gossip from home while I pour the drinks.’ She moved with the grace of a ballet dancer to the Japanese lacquered cocktail cabinet.

‘Where’s Uncle Paul?’ Adele glanced round the room as if half expecting him to materialise from thin air.

‘Unfortunately he’s had to work late at the office, so it’s just us for dinner tonight. It’s such a bore and he works far too hard, poor sweet.’

‘When will we see David?’ Meg asked eagerly.

‘We’ll meet him in town for lunch tomorrow, but before that I’m going to take you shopping. Muriel has given me the task of finding you gowns for the May Ball. Isn’t that exciting? Now what will you have to drink? You first, Adele. Gin and tonic, darling?’

Adele sank down on the sofa. ‘Might I have a gin and It, Aunt Josie?’

‘Of course. I keep forgetting that you’re a young lady almost out of your teens now, Addie. No doubt you’re the belle of the ball in St Peter Port.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ Adele murmured modestly. ‘But we do have quite a lot of parties,
especially at Pearl’s house. You must know the Tostevins, Aunt Josie. They live on the Grange.’

‘I vaguely remember them,’ Josie said, pouring a measure of gin into a cocktail shaker and adding a generous amount of Italian vermouth. ‘It’s many years since I was part of that particular scene, Addie.’ She gave it a couple of shakes before pouring the contents into a glass. Impaling a maraschino cherry on a cocktail stick, she balanced it precariously on the edge of the glass. ‘There, you won’t get better than that at the Ritz. Now what about you, Meg? Are you allowed anything stronger than ginger beer these days?’

‘I’d like a brandy Alexander, please.’

Josie raised her pencilled eyebrows. ‘Darling, how chic. Is that what you drink at home?’

She could not lie, and anyway Addie was sending her a warning look. ‘No, I’ve never tasted one. It just sounds nice.’

Josie’s laughter tinkled round the room like fairy bells. ‘I think a weak G and T might be more suitable, Meg.’ She poured a small amount of gin over some ice cubes and topped it up with tonic. ‘Try that.’ She watched critically while Meg took a sip. ‘And don’t wrinkle your nose. It’s not considered the done thing.’

‘It’s very bitter,’ Meg protested.

‘That’s the idea, darling. You’ll get used to it. Now, where was I? Oh yes, I know. You were going to tell me everything that’s been going on at home. How is my dear brother Charlie? And what about Muriel? Is
she still ruling the roost like Catherine the Great?’

Meg and Adele exchanged wary glances.

‘Mother asked to be remembered to you,’ Adele said tactfully. ‘Pa sends his love, of course.’

‘Dear old Charlie. I do miss him. And how is my brother Bertie and maddening Maud? They had to get married you know,’ Josie said with a giggle. ‘Still in their teens, and then their ghastly daughter, my dear niece Jane, repeats history aged eighteen.’

‘They’re all well,’ Meg volunteered. ‘We don’t see too much of them since Uncle Bertie gave up work for health reasons.’

‘Health reasons, my foot. Charles was heroic to take him on, in the first place.’ Josie sipped the gin and tonic she had mixed for herself. ‘I love Bertie, of course, but he always seemed to think that the world owed him a living. As to Jane, we’re so unalike that I can’t believe we came from the same root stock, and that boy of hers is a freak.’

‘We don’t see her very often either, or Pip. He might be our second cousin but I feel the same way about him as you do about Aunt Jane.’ Adele twirled the cherry around in her glass. ‘Could we change the subject, Aunt Josie? We came here to get away from the family for a while.’

‘Of course, darling. It’s just morbid curiosity on my part. Let’s talk about something much more interesting.’ Josie perched on the arm of Meg’s chair. ‘What sort of ball gowns had you in mind? You first, Addie.’

*

Next morning, after an exhaustive tour of the dress shops in Oxford, even Josie was beginning to flag a little. ‘We’ve left it so late,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘There’s only one tiny boutique that I can think of where we might find something suitable for both of you. It’s not far from here and it’s our last chance, but if all else fails we’ll take the train to London tomorrow and scour the stores in Oxford Street and the whole of Mayfair if necessary.’

‘I never realised it would be such hard work,’ Meg said, frowning. ‘We must have tried on dozens of frocks. If another sales assistant tells me I look lovely in something that makes me look like a marshmallow or a Christmas cracker, I think I’ll scream.’

‘Well, I’m enjoying it,’ Adele said stoutly. ‘I could have chosen several of those I tried on, but Aunt Josie knows best.’

‘That I do.’ Josie stopped outside a shop window with a single gown artistically draped on a headless mannequin. ‘Madame Elizabeth’s is where the top people go, so no funny remarks, Meg. This is serious and with the ball only two days away I’d say it’s critical. Follow me.’

She entered the salon with a determined twitch of her slender shoulders. By this time, Meg had lost all her enthusiasm for shopping. Her feet were sore and she wished that she had eaten something more substantial than a bowl of cornflakes first thing that
morning. Josie did not believe in cooked breakfasts, but then she ate sparingly of everything, as Meg had noticed at dinner the previous evening. The food had been excellent but Josie picked at hers, confessing that the thought of gaining an extra pound or two was terrifying in the extreme. Paul, she said with a wry smile, did not like plump women. Meg thought privately that if she married a man who made her starve in order to keep her figure she would divorce him and find someone else.

‘Madame Elizabeth,’ Josie said with a charming smile. ‘We need your help desperately.’

Meg took a seat on one of the spindly gilt and red plush chairs set out for prospective customers, and allowed her thoughts to drift in the direction of lunch. They were to meet David at the Mitre Hotel, which luckily was only a couple of streets away. She hoped there would be something delicious and substantial on the menu. Her stomach growled and she shot an apologetic glance at Madame Elizabeth, who had somehow managed to pour Adele into a shimmering oyster-satin sheath of a gown that flared out in a fishtail around the ankles. A bit like one of the carp that lived in the lake at home, Meg thought inconsequentially.

Adele hitched the low-cut top a little higher. ‘It’s very tight. I can hardly breathe.’

Madame frowned. ‘It is meant to hug the figure, mademoiselle. Otherwise it might not remain in situ.’

‘It’s really lovely,’ Josie said enthusiastically. ‘That shade is very flattering for someone with your ivory complexion, Addie.’

‘Perhaps Mademoiselle would like to try the green silk organza, madame?’

Thankfully from Meg’s point of view, the green organza received a thumbs down and the oyster satin was sent off to be wrapped in tissue paper by a bored-looking assistant.

‘I’ll take this one,’ Meg said in desperation as she tried on the third gown. By this time she was past caring. Number three was a sickly shade of pink like melted strawberry ice cream, but it was marginally better than the lilac chiffon with a skirt that consisted of frills from waist to ankle and made her look like a bell tent.

‘I don’t think so,’ Josie said, shaking her head. ‘Is that all you have in Meg’s size, madame?’

‘My clientele are usually ladies of a certain age and sophistication,’ Madame said, pursing her lips. ‘There is just one other, but I am not certain that Madame will approve of that either.’

‘Let me have this one,’ Meg begged. She felt light-headed and was certain she would faint if she did not eat something very soon. ‘Who’s going to look at me anyway?’ She hesitated, realising that she had said the wrong thing. ‘I mean, no one will give me a second look when Addie’s in the room.’

Adele blushed and pulled a face. ‘That’s not true.’

‘We’ll see the last gown,’ Josie said firmly. ‘Then
I’m afraid we must hurry, madame, as we have a luncheon appointment.’

Madame seized Meg’s arm in a vice-like grip, and her lips stretched over her teeth in a caricature of a smile. ‘Very well, madame. Come with me, mademoiselle. My assistant will look after you.’

Bearing an armful of gold shot-silk taffeta, the young girl gave Meg a shy smile. ‘Perhaps you’d like to try this one?’

‘Oh, I love that colour,’ Meg said sincerely. She held her arms above her head and shivered with pleasure as the cool silky material embraced her flesh. It was a tight fit. And she had to hold her breath while the assistant struggled with the zip, but the result was stunning. The boned bodice fitted like a second skin and quite suddenly Meg had a figure that, if not exactly hourglass, was what could be described as shapely without fear of exaggeration. ‘I’ve got a bust,’ Meg said happily. ‘And a waist too.’ She did a twirl and the material swirled around her like the petals of a tea rose. ‘It’s beautiful.’ She bundled up the skirts and emerged into the salon like a butterfly bursting from its chrysalis. ‘What d’you think, Aunt Josie? Isn’t it gorgeous, Addie?’

Madame folded her thin hands in front of her. ‘In view of Mademoiselle’s tender years, perhaps it is not quite suitable, madame? The colour is not quite right for an ingénue.’

Josie rose to her feet, taking her cheque book from her handbag. ‘It’s certainly eye-catching, and if Meg
feels good in it then that’s the one for her. Shall we get down to the vulgar business of the price, madame?’

‘Pa will have a fit when he gets the bill,’ Adele said in a low voice as they left the shop. ‘That’s my allowance gone for the next twenty years.’

‘Nonsense,’ Josie said, chuckling. ‘The ball gowns are my present to you both. I’ve no children of my own to spoil so I think I might be allowed to indulge my beautiful nieces once in a while. You’ll both look absolutely stunning, and David’s friends will fall at your feet.’

‘His friends?’ Adele was suddenly alert. ‘Are they joining us for lunch?’

Josie smiled and nodded. ‘We’re meeting your escorts for the ball at lunch. David will introduce you but I’ve already met Walter. He’s a charming young man who’s studying medicine, and there’s Frank Barton.’ She shot a mischievous look in Adele’s direction. ‘You’ll like him, Addie. He’s good-looking and frightfully well off. He could have been ordered for you straight from Harrods.’

Adele blushed and frowned. ‘Don’t be mean, Aunt Josie. You make me sound like a gold-digger.’

‘Not at all, darling. I know you for a sweet girl and I’m sure Frank will see that too.’ She turned to Meg, her expression serious for once. ‘Now, Meg, I know you’re inclined to speak your mind, so I want you to be very careful what you say. David’s other friend is everything that Walter is and Frank too, so I’ve
heard, but there’s a subtle difference. I want you to think before you speak and treat him exactly the same as the others.’

Meg stared at her in surprise. ‘What’s wrong with him? Has he got two heads or something?’

CHAPTER TWO

As she left the bright sunshine and entered the cool interior of the Mitre Hotel it took Meg several seconds to grow accustomed to the dim light in the oak-beamed vestibule. ‘It’s really old,’ she murmured, gazing around in awe.

‘It was a coaching inn until 1926,’ Josie said with a knowledgeable smile. ‘There, girls, that’s your history lesson for today. My darling husband would be proud of me. He always says I have the attention span of a goldfish and this proves him wrong. Anyway, let’s go and find the boys. I believe I’ve worked up quite an appetite for lunch.’ She led the way through the reception area to the restaurant, giving her name to the maître d’hôtel. With a courtly bow, he escorted them to a table at the far end of the room.

On seeing them David rose to his feet, and forgetting decorum Meg rushed over to fling her arms around him. ‘It seems ages since you were last at home. I’ve really missed you.’

Laughing, he slipped his arm around her shoulders. ‘I’ve missed you too, Meg.’ He held his hand out to Adele. ‘You’re not going to make a show of me in front of everyone, are you, Addie?’

She smiled. ‘No, of course not, but it’s lovely to see you looking so well, David.’

‘My turn,’ Josie said, moving forward to kiss his cheek. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce the girls to your friends? I know Walter, of course.’

There was a hint of coquetry in the smile that Josie directed at him. Meg was quick to notice that her aunt’s charm was not lost on Walter or his two companions who had leapt to their feet and were waiting their turn to be introduced.

‘It’s good to see you again, Mrs Shelmerdine,’ Walter said, blushing.

‘Josie, please. None of this Mrs Shelmerdine nonsense.’ Her attention wandered to a broad-shouldered young man. To Meg’s eyes he looked the type who would be captain of the cricket eleven or one of the oarsmen in the annual university boat race.

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