After Olivia brought her home, Rose had a cup of cocoa with Gran, which had become the nightly ritual once the evenings had grown cooler.
‘Has Olivia told you who she’s inviting to the Midwinter Ball?’
Rose shook her head. ‘A cousin. I don’t think she’s decided which one.’
‘As if it mattered,’ said Gran tartly. ‘Why doesn’t she have a boyfriend? What do you think, Rose? Is it normal for a girl her age not to date? It isn’t as if she hasn’t been asked, from what I hear.’
‘What do you hear?’ Rose asked, fascinated, but Gran gave her a reproving look.
‘I’m not going to pass on unfounded gossip,’ she said primly, as if she hadn’t just been doing that. ‘Olivia’s your friend – you can ask her yourself how many refusals she’s given. And you might just hint to her that it gives the wrong message. Refusing to go out with any of the boys at her school as if she’s too good for ‘em.’
‘Oh, no, she doesn’t think like that!’
‘Maybe she doesn’t, but others do. And much as I love and respect Sarah, I suspect sometimes that she thinks her only granddaughter is too good for anyone in Duckett County. She’ll be wanting her to marry someone from one of the other old-money families in the state, as if nobody else could possibly be worthy. You’d think they were royalty! It’s not right. Like the way they’ve shut themselves off up in that new house. Sarah isn’t doing Olivia any favours by encouraging her to stay aloof.’
‘I don’t think Olivia’s gran has told her not to date anyone from school …’
‘Not in so many words. But she’ll have her ways. Even if Olivia doesn’t realize, I’ll bet you that’s the reason she’s “not interested” in boys. But maybe now with you as her friend Olivia might start to see what she’s been missing, and she might get a little bolder. You could encourage her, if there is a boy she likes at school, to ask him out. The two of you could double date!’ Gran gave her a conspiratorial smile. ‘Maybe there’s someone you’ve got your eye on …?’
‘Gran, honestly!’ Rose shook her head, laughing nervously. ‘You sound more like a teenager than a grandmother!’
Gran laughed – a girlish giggle – looked down into the remains of her cocoa and said, ‘Well, I’ve always been a romantic, really. But – well, I had such fun when I was a girl. I had a lot of beaus – yes, before your grandfather deigned to notice me! – and even more friends. And so did Sarah Duckett! It seems so unfair that Olivia is missing out. She’s too young to always be thinking about the future – she should be enjoying the present.’
‘She does, Gran. We have fun together.’
‘I’m glad. I’ll just rinse these mugs, and then I’m off to bed. You’re not going to stay up too late, are you?’
‘No, don’t worry. I’m just going to check my e-mail, and write to Simon, and then maybe read for a while.’
‘All right. Goodnight, dear.’
Rose turned her face up for her grandmother’s kiss. ‘Goodnight, Gran. Sleep tight.’
‘Don’t let the bedbugs bite!’
When she checked her e-mail, Rose found nothing from Simon – he had become more elusive of late, and, because her mind was on the subject, she wondered if he’d finally found himself a girlfriend, or if it really was his studies that took up all his time, as he claimed. There were, however, two letters from Orson.
The first was a sort of stream-of-consciousness rhapsody about love and Olivia, set off by the music he’d been listening to, songs about perfect, unattainable women. Rose felt a faint impatience with the boy. It was all so unreal and overblown. He didn’t know Olivia at all. He had created a fantasy-figure and he hadn’t a clue …
The second letter inspired a strange sensation not unlike déjà vu. Seeing her own, real name in Orson’s letter made her heart beat faster. And then she laughed out loud. So, Malcolm Watts had asked Jennifer Banks for a date only minutes after Olivia had turned him down! Wouldn’t Olivia be relieved to hear how little impression her rejection had made! Obviously the poor guy just wanted somebody, anybody, to go out with him.
She read through both of Orson’s letters again and his overblown, plaintive, romantic yearning came together in her mind with Olivia’s excessive unease when confronted by an unwanted suitor. If you didn’t fancy a guy you just let him know. She was sure she wouldn’t have any problem turning down Wayne Toogood if he ever popped the question – any question. She certainly wouldn’t have been so bothered about his feelings as to be afraid to go back and search for a lost necklace! In a flash, she saw it: her friend Olivia, apparently so sure of herself and in control, was actually afraid of men. Her self-imposed ban on dating was determined by that fear. Gran thought that Olivia just wanted to please her grandmother, and that might be part of it, but Rose was now sure Olivia was as afraid of falling in love as Orson was of being rejected by his love-object: neither was willing to take the risk.
Would Orson love Olivia if he really knew her? Rose’s heart hammered against her ribs. Why not? Olivia was beautiful and smart, eminently loveable, even if she wasn’t the soft, dreamy creature that Orson imagined. Would Olivia love Orson? She’d shown no interest in him so far, and maybe he just wasn’t her type. But Rose didn’t want Olivia to fall in love – she just wanted her to get over her fear and have fun.
She thought Gran’s suggestion, about a double date, was a brilliant idea. She’d go out with Orson’s friend and Orson would escort hers … The fact that Rose didn’t see Farren Wiles as a romantic object was no obstacle, in fact, it was perfect. The four of them would have fun together, Orson would get over his baseless crush on Olivia, and Olivia would get over her fear. And Rose would be there when Orson woke from his romantic dream, and maybe he’d look at her and realize that she was the one he’d wanted all along …
And what about Farren? Wouldn’t he be put out if she manoeuvred him into asking her out? She liked him as a friend, but she didn’t want him imagining that she fancied him. It wouldn’t be fair to him. OK, forget Farren. The thing to do was to get Orson to ask Olivia out and to get Olivia to agree. And what better way to get Olivia to agree to a date than to make it not-a-date, by making it a threesome, by going along herself?
She’d get to work on Olivia later. First, Roberto was going to tell Orson to be a man and finally act on his desire, and she was sure this was a message he would respond to.
*
Three years of lessons, plus a natural ability, had turned Orson Banks into one of the best ballroom dancers in the county. So far, he had attended the Midwinter Ball only as an escort to one of his sisters, but this year he hoped it would be different.
Mrs Gwilliam, the elderly dancing teacher, had requested his assistance this year. ‘It helps the students get the feel of it better if they can dance with someone who really knows how,’ she said. ‘Olivia Mason has agreed to help out, and you are by far the best of the young gentlemen.’
At the beginning of the first lesson, Mrs Gwilliam asked Orson and Olivia to demonstrate the waltz. As the music from the boom-box swelled and filled the dance studio lined with rows of earnest, staring students, for a moment Orson thought he wouldn’t be able to move without falling down. Olivia looked at him a little impatiently through cool blue eyes, and he got a grip. If he acted the fool, she’d think he was one. Taking hold of her lightly yet firmly, he began to dance in time to the music. She followed his lead effortlessly. He smiled at her and she smiled back.
His heart lifted. He reminded himself of Ro’s letter: Olivia can’t read your mind. She doesn’t know about your doubts, or about your feelings for her. If you wait for her to make the first move you’ll wait forever. She probably hasn’t noticed you. So get yourself noticed! Talk to her. Be friendly. You’ll scare her off if you accost her and ask her for a date straight away, so don’t rush it. Make friends with her. Find some non-threatening excuse to spend some time with her, either alone or with her girlfriend.’
He would strike up a conversation, Orson decided; start with generalities, and gradually get more personal. But before he could think of what to say first, Mrs Gwilliam had stopped the music, and was making use of Orson and Olivia as models to demonstrate how to stand and move together. Then she briskly assigned partners. Olivia was given the lanky, awkward-looking Wayne Toogood to partner while Orson’s partner, to his surprise, was Rose.
‘I warn you, I’m an absolute beginner,’ she said. ‘I’ve never danced in my life. I don’t know where to put my feet.’
‘Don’t worry about where you’re going to put your feet. That’s fatal. Try not to think at all. Just listen to the music and follow my lead, and you’ll be fine.’
And she was, somewhat to his surprise. Unlike his sisters – and, unlike some partners he’d had, she could hear the music and respond to its rhythms quite naturally.
‘Are you sure you’ve never danced before? You’re much too good for this to be your first time.’
Her face lit up in response, but she looked doubtful. ‘I’ve never danced with a partner. My brother wouldn’t dance with me. So I’d turn on the radio and twirl around the sitting room, pretending I was a gypsy, while he pitched pennies at me.’
Orson laughed. ‘Brothers don’t make the best dancing partners – you should ask my sister. You’re in Jennifer’s class, aren’t you?’
For the next dance, Orson was partnered with someone else who had considerably more confidence than Rose, but also considerably less skill. ‘No, listen to the music,’ he said patiently. ‘Don’t try to talk … Hum along with it, if that helps, or count it out. Like this …’
Orson noticed Jenny’s new boyfriend Malcolm Watts was among the students although, from the bored look on his face and the slightly mechanical correctness of his steps, it seemed unlikely that he needed, or would attend, many lessons. The first date had apparently been a success; at any rate, Jenny was going out with Malcolm again next weekend. It was almost a certainty that she’d be sending Malcolm an invitation to the Midwinter Ball so Orson would not be expected to escort his sister. Which meant that unless he had a secret admirer, or acquired a girlfriend in the next few weeks, he wouldn’t be going.
His heart began to race as he looked across the long studio to where Olivia was struggling valiantly with Wayne Toogood and his two left feet. He had to act quickly, before she invited one of her cousins.
‘Ow!’ The girl in his arms yelped and gave a lurch. She glared up at him as she bent to massage her leg. ‘You kicked me!’
She had screeched so loudly that everyone around them had stopped dancing to stare at them. Orson could feel himself blushing. ‘I’m sorry. I’m very, very sorry, really I am.’
As soon as class was over, Orson moved quickly to intercept Olivia. ‘Excuse me. Hey, Olivia? I thought your comments on Moby Dick were really interesting in class the other day. I’m trying to write my paper, and I’ve been thinking about the whole notion of whiteness, the way Melville uses it, and … well, it’s kind of complicated, but I wondered if I could talk it over with you?’
The defensiveness which had sprung to her face the moment he’d spoken her name had gone. She looked interested, receptive, yet slightly puzzled. ‘Now?’
‘Well, not here, obviously, but if you’ve got the time we could go around the corner for coffee or a soda?’
Her face closed down again. She shook her head. ‘No, that’s not possible, I’m sorry. If you want to talk about Moby Dick, how about tomorrow, before class?’
‘I had something more than five or ten minutes in mind. I really would value your input. How about tomorrow after school? We could go to that café down the street.’
‘I don’t think so.’
If it had been anyone else but Olivia he would have given up right then. She didn’t want to go out with him; she obviously suspected that the literary discussion was a ploy. But he couldn’t admit to Roberto that he’d fallen at the first hurdle. ‘Why don’t I look for you at lunch-time tomorrow? Where do you usually go? We could talk about it then, while we eat lunch.’
School lunch couldn’t be counted as a date by anyone. She nodded. ‘I always have lunch with Rose Durcan.’
‘Well, that’s fine,’ he said easily. ‘She’s in our English class, too – I’m sure she’ll have something to say on the subject.’
‘Okay.’ Olivia looked relieved. ‘I – we’ll be at one of the tables on the side terrace.’
‘There’s supposed to be a cold front coming in.’
Olivia shrugged. ‘So we’ll wrap up.’ She looked around. ‘Rose? What are you doing way over there? Come on, let’s go!’
*
At the end of the week Rose went with Olivia to pick up the invitations from the printer. Like most aspects of the Midwinter Ball, the invitations were an unchanged tradition. They were engraved in the old-fashioned way, hand-set by the same elderly printer who had done the job as an apprentice just after World War Two.
Rose ran her fingertips over the creamy card, feeling the faint raised bumps of the lettering. ‘They feel expensive.’
‘They are. I tried suggesting to the G-M that modern colour photocopying would do the same job, and the money saved could be donated to the charity that the ball is supposed to be in aid of, but they nearly fainted en masse. These things’ – she gave the box she’d just loaded into her car a flick with finger and thumb – ‘are magic objects. They’re talismanic, like those things archeologists dig up and can’t begin to identify except to say “presumably of some ritual significance”. They signify your right to attend the Midwinter Ball. If you have one, you get in. If you don’t, then nothing can change your fate. No ticket, no entry.
‘There was a terrible hoo-ha a few years ago when some guy’s dog ate his invitation. He went along to the dance anyway, of course, and couldn’t believe it when the sweet little old granny on guard-duty wouldn’t let him in.’
Rose giggled, not entirely believing the story. ‘What about his date?’
‘Oh, she was all right. Her name was listed when she bought the tickets, and she still had hers.’
‘So, is your computer program going to make any difference?’
‘Maybe, as a fall-back measure, if something like that happened again, and the guy’s name was on the list. Of course it’ll only work if the ladies who buy the tickets actually register the names of their dates with the committee in advance, and I don’t know how many of them will bother. I will.’
‘So will I.’
Olivia shot her a pleased and startled smile. ‘Good for you! Who’s the lucky guy?’
Rose laughed. ‘Only Simon, I’m afraid. He’s quite keen to go—’
‘And see our quaint native rituals at first hand? I thought he didn’t like to dance?’
Rose was surprised Olivia remembered that detail out of the many stories she’d told her about her brother. ‘He doesn’t like to dance with me. Maybe I could swap partners with you? Or maybe we’ll just watch.’
‘You’re too good a dancer to just watch.’
‘I’m not.’
‘I saw you with Orson, waltzing around the room like Cinderella and the prince.’
Rose felt her cheeks heat at Orson’s name and hoped Olivia wouldn’t notice. ‘He makes it seem so easy. I’m sure we couldn’t compare to you and Orson dancing together.’
‘It’s such a wasted opportunity.’
‘What is?’
‘You taking your own brother to the ball. There must be somebody you’d rather go with.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Think a little harder.’ Olivia’s voice was teasing. ‘Somebody you enjoy dancing with, and talking to, and talking about. I know you think he’s handsome, and sensitive, and intelligent, because you’ve told me so. What I think doesn’t matter. And he obviously likes you, since he’s managed to track you down at lunch-time three days running …’
Rose’s heart leaped and plunged again as she understood. ‘No! Oh, no! Orson isn’t interested in me; it’s you he likes!’
‘Give me a break! He just wanted to pick my brains about Moby Dick – nothing romantic about that! You’re the reason he came back the next two lunch-times. I don’t know if it was your incisive comments about Ahab and Queequeg, or if he realized how much he liked dancing with you, but you’re the one he’s interested in. He looks happy when he’s talking to you; he’s not all stiff and formal like he is with me.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Rose said, her heart racing and her face blazing. ‘I’m sure he fancies you.’
‘Oh, Rosy, Rosy, we’re going to have to do something about your self-esteem! What makes you think he prefers me to you? Why on earth should he?’
For a moment Rose was speechless. She considered confessing all: the idea of being able to talk about it to Olivia, to get her help and advice, was very tempting. But it was a long story, and already they were approaching the turn-off to the Mason house. And whatever she said about herself, Rose couldn’t betray Orson’s confidences. Instead she said, ‘Farren Wiles told me that Orson’s in love with you.’
Olivia let out a peal of laughter. ‘Farren Wiles! That little piece of mischief! Why’d you want to believe him?’
‘He’s Orson’s closest friend.’
‘Oh, yes. Whereas you hardly know either of them. So why would he tell his best friend’s best-kept secret to you? You must have been asking him about Orson in a very particular way … like you cared.’
Olivia halted the car in front of the closed gates, let down her window and called out confidently, ‘It’s me, Olivia, with my friend Rose Durcan.’
As they waited for the gates to open, Olivia turned and grinned wickedly at Rose. ‘Rose, honey, if your cheeks get any redder we could sell you for ketchup. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’ve been trying to talk me into dating, so now you’re going to take your own advice and let him know you’re interested. We’ll make it a double date. You and Orson are going to be the cutest young couple at the Midwinter Ball!’