Celestria should have noticed that things weren’t as they should be. The repercussions of Archie’s predicament would touch them all in ways she could never have imagined. But she was young and selfish. All she could think about was the party. Her frocks hung in the cupboard like magic cloaks ready to spirit her off to a ballroom glittering with chandeliers and crystal, where men in white tie watched her with admiration, and women with envy. Where music echoed off mirrored walls and champagne bubbled in long-stemmed glasses. She was twenty-one, and she wanted to be in love.
Julia busied herself with her husband’s birthday party as she did every year, and no one would have guessed that beneath her smile she was strangled with anxiety. A van load of men arrived to put up the tent, and caterers began to appear with boxes of glasses and crockery. Celestria watched them construct her fantasy with great excitement. It wouldn’t be sophisticated like London parties, but she was so starved of distraction that she didn’t mind. There would be plenty of people to admire her, and she would dance the night away with Dan Wilmotte in whichever dress she chose to wear. Finally something would rouse this sleepy crevice of Cornwall into action, and who knows, she might even fall in love. Her mother always said that love came when you least expected it.
Lotty and Melissa were just as excited as Celestria and faced with the very real concern of finding husbands. With her long auburn hair Lotty was the prettier of the two, but, as Pamela cruelly used to say, “in the kingdom of the blind the one-eyed man is king.” Neither dazzled, poor creatures. Like so many English girls they had oval faces with small chins and watery blue eyes, all inherited from their mother, Penelope. Pamela referred to that type of girl as “egg-faced.” Often the egg face was a sign of aristocratic blood—though not in Lotty and Melissa’s case, of course. Milton had a strong, handsome face with big eyes and a firm, angular jaw, inherited by the fortunate David, who was also tall and athletic. What a pity his daughters hadn’t been so lucky. Pamela was melodramatic and selfish, but at least she had given Celestria a beautiful face.
Down on the beach, the morning of the dance, Celestria escaped having to help Julia with the flowers. Melissa was too good-hearted to hide out with her, but she had managed to coerce Lotty into joining her. The girls lay on towels in the sunshine, while Bouncy dug a hole with Nanny and the boys played cricket with Purdy. Celestria wore a pair of white shorts and a turquoise shirt, knotted at the breast, that turned her gray eyes blue. Lotty wore white slacks—she didn’t like to show her legs, they were as sturdy as a pony’s—and a sunhat hid her fair and freckled skin.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t be helping out?” she asked with a frown.
Celestria stretched lazily. “We’d only get in the way. Too many cooks spoil the broth. Besides, someone has to look out for the boys, as Nanny only has eyes for Bouncy.”
“Don’t we all? I long for a baby,” added Lotty with a sigh.
“You have to find a man first, or didn’t Aunt Penelope tell you the facts of life?”
A small smile crept across Lotty’s face. “You can keep a secret, can’t you?”
“You know I can,” Celestria replied, propping herself up on her elbow.
“I haven’t even told Melissa.”
“Oh, I doubt she’d be able to keep a secret from your mother, and Aunt Penelope’s got a voice like a foghorn.”
“So I can trust you?”
“Of course.”
She paused, then plunged in. “I’m in love, Celestria. Really and truly in love.” Her eyes shone with happiness.
“Who with? Do I know him?”
“That’s the problem. He’s not one of us.”
“Not top drawer?” Celestria was appalled but at the same time intrigued. If he was rich, what did it matter? “New money?”
“I don’t think he has very much. He’s a pianist.”
“Francis Browne,” said Celestria jubilantly.
Lotty looked startled. “How do you know?”
“He’s your new piano teacher. Mama’s considering getting rid of old Mrs. Gilstone and replacing her with him, which would be a blessing from my point of view. Mrs. Gilstone had bad breath. Your mother says he’s rather good. He’s obviously too good!”
“He’s talented, sensitive, and kind.” Lotty’s face, lit up by love, looked almost beautiful.
“Oh dear. I suppose he loves you back?”
“Yes. He wants to marry me.”
“You could always elope. That’s very romantic and the kind of thing his sort do all the time, I should imagine.”
“Mummy and Daddy would die. I couldn’t do it to them.”
“Well, you can’t have both. Is he handsome?”
“Very. He’s fair with a long nose and the loveliest brown eyes you ever saw. He calls me ‘Aphrodite.’”
“I bet he does. Has he kissed you yet?”
Lotty’s face turned the color of a beetroot. “Yes. Only once. I’m longing to return to London to see him. He can’t even write to me down here. Mummy would find out immediately. She wants me to marry Eddie Richmond.”
“Because he’s rich and will inherit his father’s estate in Northumberland.”
“He’s perfectly nice; I just don’t find him attractive.”
“There’s more to a man than his chin, Lotty,” said Celestria facetiously. Lotty didn’t smile. “He’s got nice eyes. His front teeth stick out a little, but he’s got pots of money. You have a nasty choice to make: love or money?”
“In that respect there’s no contest. I’d choose love every time. It’s Mummy who’s the problem.”
“And a very big one, too!”
“It’s the 1950s. A girl should be able to marry whomever she likes. We’ve come a long way since Emmeline Pankhurst chained herself to the railings.”
“If you marry Francis Browne, we’ll all have free piano lessons!” Celestria added brightly.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Celestria, we’ll have to charge you double in order to live! Mummy and Daddy will disown me.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. It could be worse. You could be in love with Father Dalgliesh!”
Lotty laughed. “Against all my principles, and I hope against all of yours, too!”
An icy wind blew in off the sea. Celestria shivered. Purple clouds gathered on the horizon, and Nanny pulled out a jersey for Bouncy. He saw her waving it at him and ran off down the beach, headed for the water. His laughter was carried on the wind like the cry of a gull. In front of him the waves had grown large and angry, pounding the sea like great lion paws. He dropped his spade, which Purdy seized with delight, casting aside the cricket ball. Nanny struggled stiffly to her feet and hurried off in pursuit of the increasingly distant figure. Celestria and Lotty watched in horror as Bouncy continued, seemingly deaf to the great lion’s roar. Harry, Wilfrid, and Sam continued their game of cricket, oblivious. Only Purdy dropped the spade and began to bark in alarm.
The little boy reached the sea and stopped suddenly. Turning to his nanny, he began to cry. Beneath the darkening sky, the waves looked even more menacing. She grabbed his hand and led him away, scolding him fiercely for running off, which made him cry all the more. “You can’t swim,” she was saying when she reached the girls. “The sea is dangerous for little boys like you.”
“Thank God he’s okay,” hissed Lotty to her cousin. “That frightened the life out of me.”
“And Nanny. She’s gone green! Look.” Celestria turned to Lotty, suddenly feeling rather chilly. “Don’t make any rash decisions. I can’t imagine it’s much fun being poor. It certainly isn’t romantic. You’ve grown up with money. You’re used to it. You’d have a good life with someone like Eddie Richmond. He’d look after you and make life comfortable. You might even grow to love him over time.”
Lotty shook her head. “For a selfish creature, you can sound very sensible occasionally.”
“In the olden days women married men for money and land and took lovers on the side. I think that makes perfect sense, don’t you?”
“But most of the time you’re full of nonsense! Marriage is a sacred thing, Celestria. One makes one’s vows before God. When I marry, I will vow to love my husband with all my heart. Adultery is out of the question, and it should be for you, too.”
“Where do I get these terrible ideas from?” Celestria said with a wicked smile.
“Must be your mother. She is American, after all.”
Nanny had brushed the sand off Bouncy, dried his tears, and put him in his navy blue jersey. “It’s getting cold,” complained Harry. “We’re going back to check the traps.”
“I bet we’ve caught a few,” said Wilfrid enthusiastically. “We stole Mummy’s best cheddar.”
“And dipped it in Papa’s whiskey,” Harry added with a chuckle. The three of them looked as smug as a band of triumphant thieves.
“Come on!” Sam shouted, already setting off up the path to the house.
“We’d better get you home,” said Nanny to Bouncy. “You’ll need a nice cup of hot milk after your fright. I won’t tell Mrs. Julia; it’ll only worry her. Gives me the willies living so close to the sea.” Her face looked lined and pale as the wind caught the stray wisps of silver hair that had come away from her bun. “I knew a man once that drowned. They found his body on the rocks a week later, what was left of it. Nasty business. Didn’t matter that he could swim. Made no difference at all. Poor sod. Come Bouncy, put that seaweed down, it’s dirty.”
The girls walked ahead as the path was narrow and Bouncy walked slowly after them, his little hand in Nanny’s old one.
“Do you think Nanny would have caught up with him if he hadn’t stopped on his own?” Lotty asked quietly.
“No,” Celestria replied. “And I don’t think she’d survive in that cold water, either. They’d both drown.”
“Should I tell Aunt Julia?” Lotty was shaken by what she had seen.
“No. Bouncy won’t rush off like that again. He got a terrible fright. The sound of the waves was enough to put him off. Besides, Papa and your mother grew up all right, didn’t they?”
“Nanny was younger then.”
They arrived at a house buzzing with activity. Julia had been transformed into a bossy sergeant major, shouting instructions to her small army of helpers. The tent was up, the floors laid, tables with white cloths adorned with glasses and plates piled high for the buffet. The smell of cooking wafted through the hall, causing Purdy to salivate greedily and make haste to the kitchen. Milton was carrying in chairs with Monty, while David made signs to put on the lavatory doors and Melissa and her mother helped Julia arrange the flowers. Lotty immediately volunteered to join her, gushing apologies for not having done so earlier. Celestria had one ally left: her mother. She knew for certain that she’d be as far as possible from all this hearty helping. When Celestria inquired after her, her father replied that she was feeling a little poorly and had retired to the small sitting room to read. Determined not to be roped into helping, Celestria said she would go and check on her. In the hall, she passed Harry, who was looking glum. “No rats?” she asked brightly.
“Got to help Aunt Julia,” he replied.
“Well, you’re a man, and they need strong pairs of hands.”
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, I’m helping, too,” she lied. “Aunt Julia needs some cotton; there’s a hole in the tent.” She pulled a face to fool him into believing that she was as exasperated as he was, then hurried off to find their mother.
Sure enough, Pamela was lying with her feet up on the sofa, a cup steaming on the table beside her, classical music giving the room a sense of serenity, her Pekingese curled up on her lap while she stroked him with long white fingers. “Poochi is terrified of the bustle out there. It’s like a railway station at rush hour, and he hates railway stations,” she said when she saw Celestria in the doorway. “Your cheeks are pink. Where have you been?”
“On the beach.”
“In this weather?”
“Oh Mama, it’s not cold.”
“That’s your father in you. To me gray clouds, drizzle, and wind mean nothing but misery. I can’t imagine anything worse than sitting out in it for fun.”
“It’s not drizzling.”
“It will be in a minute. Look at those clouds, they’re furious. Gives me a chill just looking at them. Why don’t you join me in here; it’s terribly dull on my own.”
Celestria slumped into the armchair.
“Ring for Soames. He can light us a fire.” She seemed to sink deeper into her white cashmere sweater. Celestria looked around for the bell. “Isn’t there one in here? Why don’t you run and tell him, darling, before your poor mother dies of hypothermia.”
Celestria was reluctant to go back into the hall for fear of being put to task, but her mother was determined to have her fire. So she did something quite out of character and bent down to light it herself. Pamela was appalled.
“You can’t do that, Celestria. You’ll get all dirty, and your nails! Do go and get Soames, he’ll do it in a flash. That’s what staff are for. Really, darling, I insist.”
But Celestria was already on her knees, striking a match and lighting the little balls of newspaper that Soames had stuffed under the grate. It was easy. The wood was dry and caught fire immediately. No dirty hands and no broken nails. She stood up and looked at it in triumph.
“I don’t know why you’re so pleased with yourself, Celestria; it’s not ladylike to do men’s jobs.”
“I don’t want to get caught by Aunt Julia,” she explained, flopping into the chair again. “I’ll be exhausted by the time everyone arrives.”
“Quite, darling, let everyone else do it. Too many cooks spoil the broth. Have you decided which dress you’re going to wear? I did tell you to bring a bigger selection. You’ll freeze in those flimsy things.”
“I think I’ll wear the pink. I’m feeling pink today,” she replied.
“We’ll have to tone down your cheeks a little. This Cornish weather does nothing for a woman’s complexion.”
“I was lying in the sun with Lotty.”
“I hope she was wearing a hat. That girl is dreadfully pale.”
“She was. But guess what? She’s lost her heart.”
Pamela’s eyes widened. “Is he suitable?”
“Not at all.”
“Well? Who is he?”
“I can’t tell you, Mama. I’ll be breaking my word.” Pamela’s face fell. “I can tell you that he’s ordinary.”
“Common?”
“Not one of us, no.”
Pamela Bancroft Montague allowed a small smile to flourish on her lips. “Oh dear,” she said, looking delighted. “What will Penelope say when she finds out?”
“Aunt Penelope wants her to marry—”
“Edward Richmond, I know. Edward would be a good catch for Lotty. After all, she’s no oil painting, but then, neither is Edward. They are definitely on the same level of the food chain.”
“What do you mean?”
Her fingers stopped stroking Poochi’s powdered fur as she deliberated a moment. “Well, Lotty is not a panther, or a tiger, is she? She’s more like a deer. Sweet and guileless. There are plenty of her sort. Edward is neither a lion nor a leopard; he’s also a herd animal, being not very original and of a type. I’d say he’s a wildebeest.”
“Oh, that’s so clever, Mama! What am I?”
“You, Celestria? You’re a lioness, of course, and only a lion will do for you. You’re at the top of the food chain, darling. It simply wouldn’t be right for you to marry a buffalo or a weasel or even a stallion.”
“So it’s a combination of beauty, class, and intelligence?”
“Exactly. You are not a herd animal. You have a beauty and grace that set you apart from the rest, and, although you are not the daughter of a duchess, you have all the qualities of one in abundance.”
“Except the egg face!” she laughed.
“You get your strong chin from me.”
When Monty entered, they were busy going through the family, placing them neatly into the food chain one by one, beside themselves with amusement. “What’s Papa?” Celestria asked as he looked at them indulgently.
Pamela narrowed her eyes. “He’s a cheetah,” she said in a throaty voice. “Because he’s the fastest animal in the world.”
“And you, my darling, are a white tiger: beautiful, solitary, and very, very rare.” He smiled at her tenderly. “So this is where you’ve been hiding out!” he said to Celestria. “It’s safe to come out now. It’s all done. Julia’s gone up to have a bath. I should think you ought to be doing the same.”
“Perhaps I’ll meet my lion tonight,” she said, getting up.
“Don’t accept anything less, Celestria. I didn’t.”
“It’s a good fire, isn’t it?” she added.
“She lit it herself, silly child,” Pamela said to her husband. Monty didn’t bother to point out that it was still summer. “I packed my mink stole this year,” she continued. “Tonight I shall wear it.”
“If you’re lucky, it will ward off any lesser beasts,” Monty said good-naturedly.
“Oh, I don’t think she needs the stole for that,” Celestria quipped as she left the room. “Lesser beasts can recognize a tiger when they see one.”