When James came downstairs and went into the kitchen, he was surprised to see only his mother and Rossi standing there. They were obviously waiting for him, both dressed elegantly for his birthday party.
He didn’t even bother to glance around. The house was empty. Silence reigned.
“Where are Father and Eddie?” he asked, staring at his mother, his puzzlement apparent.
With a bright smile, Maude said, “They left a short while ago. They had to…” She stopped, and then improvised, “Pick up something for your grandfather. We are to meet them there.”
“And where is there?” James asked, a smile surfacing as he added, “Oh, I forgot! You’re not going to tell me … it’s a big secret.”
“You’ll soon know,” Rossi replied, and picked up her purse.
James gazed at his sixteen-year-old sister, who had grown in the months he had been living in Hull. She was taller, willowy, and prettier than ever with her shining golden hair and large, pale blue eyes. Her long pink silk gown, with a boat neckline, puffed sleeves, and frills at the hem suited her. “You look beautiful, Rossi,” he said.
She merely smiled and edged toward the entrance hall. He turned to his mother. There was admiration in his voice when he told her, “And so do you, Mother. Blue has always been your best color, and your gown is very stylish.”
Maude nodded, thinking her son seemed to fill the room with his presence. His shoulders were broader, and he looked a little older than eighteen. And, of course, his looks were more stunning than ever. Thank God he wasn’t left scarred after the beating he had suffered last year. She said, “Thank you, James, for your compliments, and now I think we must leave. There is a hansom cab waiting outside, sent by your grandmother.”
If this surprised James, he did not allow it to show. He took his mother’s arm and shepherded her into the small hall.
Outside on the pavement, Maude double-locked the door. Then James helped her and Rossi into the hansom cab. He heard his mother tell the driver to go to their destination as he climbed in behind them.
James was amused at the trouble everyone had gone to in order to keep the secret. He had arrived from Hull on Friday night; nobody had given in to his mild badgering, refusing to discuss his party. But they had welcomed him with joyousness; their faces filled with smiles. He had responded in the same way, happy to be in the midst of the Falconer clan again. There was an enormous amount of love in his family, which he considered to be not only special, but quite unique. Was there any other like theirs?
As the carriage went through Camden Town and across Chalk Farm Road, his mother and sister made idle chitchat, including him at times in their meanderings. He replied to their questions and comments, amiable and friendly, all the while glancing out of the window, endeavoring to ascertain where they were going.
It soon became obvious to him that they were not heading in the direction of Regent’s Park but were driving toward the center of London and the West End.
For a moment, yesterday, he had believed that his grandparents might be giving his birthday party at the Montague home, but Eddie had whispered that this was not so. Then he had refused to say another word, suddenly guilty about what he had let slip out already.
They were going to Mayfair. James realized this before they were crossing Oxford Street, and soon they were pulling up outside the Bettrage Hotel on Davies Street. Obviously, his grandparents and Harry were not cooking tonight. This pleased him. He did not want them slaving over hot stoves for him.
“The cab’s paid for,” Maude said after they had alighted. The uniformed doorman opened the hotel door and the three of them went into the lobby.
It was relatively empty, and James immediately noticed there was no sign of his father and Eddie.
Noting his puzzlement, Maude said, “The rest will be here any minute, James. Your grandfather told me that Rossi and I should wait here for them, and you’re to go up to room one hundred ten.”
James glanced at his mother and frowned. “Oh, why is that?” His blue eyes pierced hers. “Why aren’t you coming?”
“Your grandparents want to give you your birthday present, and once you have it, we shall all meet and…” She smiled at him, and added, “And start to celebrate your birthday.”
He grinned, nodded. “Then excuse me for a moment, Mother, Rossi. See you back here, I suppose.”
“That’s right,” Maude replied. She and Rossi went and sat down on a small sofa to the right of the hotel door.
It was his grandfather who greeted James when he arrived at room 110. Phillip was in black trousers, a white shirt, and a bow tie, but no jacket. “James, there you are, my lad,” he said, opening the door wider. “Come in.”
James did so, and glanced around. “Where is Grans?” he asked.
“She’ll be back in a moment or two. In the meantime, I want to show you something.” As he spoke, Philip closed the door and walked into the room. He opened a wardrobe and took out a black frock coat. He showed it to James and explained, “Your grandmother and I bought you an evening suit as a birthday present, James. And you will wear it tonight, as I will be wearing mine.”
Taken aback for a split second, James stared at the frock coat and then at his grandfather. “But that’s an expensive thing to buy, Grandfather! You didn’t have to do this.”
“Yes, we did. We wanted this birthday to be special, and we know you’ll have great use for an evening suit in the next few years. So it’s money well spent.”
A wide smile spread across James’s face and he said, “Thank you, Grandpa. Thank you so much. Where is Grans? I want to thank her, too.”
Philip chuckled. “She went to get something, as I told you. But she also wanted to give us privacy so you can change your clothes, get into the evening suit. And by the way, she made you an evening shirt.”
Philip handed James the frock coat, which had matching trousers and a white shirt. On top of the shirt, there was a silver-gray silk waistcoat.
“Best go into the bathroom and change into these clothes. Oh, and wait a minute, I have the black bow tie for you.”
Somewhat overwhelmed by all of this, and still filled with surprise, James did as his grandfather had instructed and disappeared into the bathroom, clutching the clothes. Philip followed him and gave him the bow tie.
Once he was alone, Philip Falconer finished dressing, slipping into a black waistcoat and then his frock coat. There was a mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door. He glanced at himself, saw he looked fine, and turned away. A moment later, there was a light tap on the door.
“It’s me,” Esther said. “Can I come back in?”
“Yes, yes. James is in the bathroom changing his clothes.”
“Was he surprised?” Esther asked, looking at her husband warmly, her eyes twinkling. “I bet he was.”
“Very much so, and I think he’s really happy with the suit. I didn’t get a chance to mention that the other men will be wearing evening suits.”
“You can explain that when he comes out,” Esther said, and then looked at the bathroom door as it opened. James was standing there. After a moment he walked into the room, his face lighting up when he saw Esther.
“Thank you, Grans, for the suit … how do I look?”
Esther could not speak for a split second, genuine astonishment registering on her face. The elegant frock coat had turned him into another person, someone she didn’t know. He had not been born an aristocrat, but he looked like one, as if he had just stepped out of a stately home. She stared at Philip and let out a long sigh.
Philip said, “I know what you’re feeling, Esther, because so am I.”
“Is something wrong?” James asked swiftly.
“No, everything is absolutely right!” Esther answered, walking over to him, giving him a hug. “Happy birthday, James! And you look wonderful. The frock coat suits you, and it seems to give you a certain maturity in a way.”
Philip added, “You’re a handsome devil, my lad, and I’m happy and relieved the suit fits you so well. A friend of mine works at a gentlemen’s establishment in Savile Row, and for years he’s been making things for me. It was Tony Fletcher who hand-made the suit and waistcoat for you. He’s done a superb job.” Taking James’s arm, he led him to the mirror on the wardrobe door. “Take a look at yourself.”
James did so and was actually as startled as his grandparents had been, for a moment not recognizing the image staring back at him. The evening suit did change him somehow, did make him look more grown-up. He turned to them, his face glowing, and said, “Thank you again … you both spoil me.”
“You’ve worked hard up in Hull and succeeded well. You deserve it,” Philip said. “You’ve done us proud.”
James said, “But what about Dad and my uncles? Aren’t they going to look out of place tonight? Won’t they be a bit upset—”
“Not at all,” Philip cut in. “Your father and uncles will also be wearing evening suits. These ready-made clothes, flooding the market these days, have been a godsend to men, and one company now sells an evening line. A longer jacket and narrow pants. They each bought one, and they’ll be wearing bow ties as well.”
“I’m glad of that,” James replied, and went back to the mirror, stood staring in it. His eyes took in the whiteness of the linen shirt with the small, stiff collar, the black silk bow tie against the stark white, and the silvery sheen of the gray silk waistcoat. Perfection, he thought, how they blend so well together. He liked the satin lapels on the frock coat and the way it flared out at the hips. That was why it was called a frock coat, he supposed.
He shot his shirt cuffs down, saw how well the gold cufflinks worked, and then glanced at his feet, relieved he had been wearing black shoes tonight.
Suddenly, he turned around and asked, “How did your tailor friend manage to make everything fit me so well? It’s almost a miracle. I never had a fitting.”
Philip began to chuckle. Esther said, “I wrote to your aunt Marina and asked her to get a tape measure and measure one of the suits you took to Hull. She did so and sent me the longest list of measurements I’ve ever seen. But Tony was appreciative, I can assure you of that.”
James started to laugh and so did they. Then he went and hugged each of them again. Gazing at Esther, admiration filled his face. “You look beautiful, Grans,” he said. He noted the happiness on her face, her shining silver hair piled high on her head, the elegant purple silk gown, very tailored, long-sleeved, and with a small train. “I’m so proud of you, Grans, and you, too, Grandfather. What a wonderful couple you make. But then you’re Falconers.”