Patrick’s sixtieth birthday was commemorated by a book, and his party was written up by three newspapers. Va Va, Brodie and Flook thought they had become famous when they saw their photographs in the papers. ‘What a pity Dan and Poppy were asleep,’ said Va Va piously, having made certain there was no mention of them in any of the articles.
Trixie, generously extending her godmotherly role to the whole family, gave Patrick’s party in London. She and her silent husband Russell lived in a house as white as icing, with great stone steps leading up to the front door. Eleanor and Patrick paused in the hall and a brace of ladies with white aprons took their coats and whisked Dan and Poppy upstairs.
In the blood-red dining-room more white-aproned women milled, arranging glasses and prinking canapés. Overawed, Va Va, Brodie and Flook followed their parents through the echoing house and upstairs to get ready.
Trixie summoned Eleanor to her room, Va Va followed. Clothes lolled everywhere, a pile of them wrapped in transparent polythene gleamed and rustled on the bed. ‘Eleanor, choose something, choose anything,’ boomed Trixie, embracing her.
‘I’ve brought my blue velvet dress, I think I’ll wear that,’ said Eleanor, blinking at the array.
Trixie’s eyes sagged at the corners. ‘Won’t you just try this lilac one?’ she urged, raising a froth of purple lace. Her shirt, straining across her jutting bosom, suddenly drooped as a button spun off and fell, lost in the thick pile of the carpet. Va Va giggled and was sent up yet more stairs to dress herself. Buoyed up with excitement, Brodie and Flook flung pillows across the bedroom. Va Va cajoled Brodie into trying on her lime-green nylon nightie, smuggled into her suitcase when Eleanor was not looking. Eleanor entered, a princess from Hans Christian Andersen in a sweeping gown of silk velvet the colour of her eyes. Purple earrings quivered behind strands of hair and she smelt of summer.
‘Brodie, take that thing off. Va Va, I told you not to bring it. Now will you hurry up and get dressed.’ The children flung off their jeans and jerseys and, in seconds, Brodie and Flook were dressed in matching navy shirts and red trousers. Va Va slouched on the bed; she wanted to wear her lime-green nightie. Patrick had brought it back for her from America and it was her favourite dress. Eleanor loathed it, and paid Va Va not to wear it to children’s parties at home. But today there was no alternative: Va Va had not brought another dress. Skipping with joy, she entered the drawing-room with Eleanor, nylon wafting softly as she moved.
‘Darlings, you look beautiful,’ said Patrick, raising his glass in a toast to them.
People arrived and arrived, none seemed to leave and the house swelled and hummed with talk. Squeezing through to find Patrick, Va Va scratched her ear on a button and submitted to spattering kisses. ‘My, haven’t you grown? You must be ten now, Gabriella. How is your baby sister? You won’t remember me, I came to Mildney last summer.’ Women with painted faces purred at her and smiled. She couldn’t find Patrick anywhere, or Brodie or Flook.
Eleanor came down the stairs. ‘I’ve been to see Dan and Poppy. They’re both sound asleep and Mrs Damley is watching them.’
A man with red hair and a broad Scottish accent came up. ‘Eleanor, you look like a goddess.’ He squinted down at Va Va. ‘Hello, young lady. I’m Angus Dean. Have you heard of me?’ Va Va backed towards her mother and shook her head. ‘I’m a Catholic homosexual orphan from Glasgow. Your father is a very famous, very brilliant poet. I hope you’re proud of him.’
Va Va glared at the man, suspicion freezing her scowl. ‘You’re too old to be an orphan,’ she said, but he wasn’t listening.
‘I’ll take you to Trixie’s room and you can watch television,’ said Eleanor and led her up the stairs.
‘What’s a homosexual?’ Va Va asked as they threaded past more people on the landing.
‘I’ll tell you some other time,’ replied Eleanor.
Brodie and Flook were cocooned in Trixie’s mighty bed, sausage rolls strewn at their feet. Va Va climbed in between them and Kojak began.