Looking around at the people dancing, Lottie was quite happy to sit this one out with Adam, who had his arm around her waist. He did dance but he didn’t enjoy it much. It was her birthday, a night out spent celebrating it with Flora and Rufus and inevitably in a moment of reflection her mind went back to the last one spent with the Carsons, after Hugh had left for England, when she was treated as a future member of the family. How would they regard her now?
‘You look pensive.’ Adam gazed at her surreptitiously.
‘Just thinking,’ Lottie replied. ‘Wondering where I’ll be this time next year.’
‘And where were you last year?’
‘With the Carsons. Hugh’s family.’
His arm tightened round her waist, but he said nothing. Adam was very tactful. She had told him about Hugh; it was inevitable and she had to. Altogether he was a really nice man, kind, thoughtful, clever and above all considerate. In a short time he had taught her more about love than she had ever learned from Hugh, which was not surprising. But he wasn’t Hugh and she wasn’t in love with him. Not yet, anyway. Perversely she still yearned for Hugh. So she supposed that she was using Adam, who answered that desperate need that Hugh had inspired for completion, for a fuller sexual experience. Their love-making was good and happened often. But she knew it wouldn’t last and when the money ran out, as it nearly had, even with aid from the generous Flora, she knew she would have to go back to New Zealand. But Adam helped to ease the pain of her rejection by Hugh, even if it wasn’t completely assuaged. Also, the Feldmans were making polite noises that they might require her room.
It was late and she was tired, but didn’t want to spoil the fun. However, when the music stopped and Rufus and Flora came back to the table, indefatigable dancers as they were, they confessed they had had enough too.
‘It’s been a lovely evening,’ Lottie said sincerely. ‘Thank you for it.’
Adam and Rufus got up to pay the bill and Flora reached over and clasped her hand. ‘I’m glad we could share it with you and only by a fluke discovered it was your birthday.’
Lottie smiled. It was a fluke. Now that term had resumed she had started modelling for the art class, and when Flora suggested an outing Lottie had told her it was her birthday and immediately a trip was arranged to a small club, tucked away in the bowels of Soho, that did dinner and had a small dance floor. In many ways it had been a perfect evening – four people, well suited and relaxed and at ease in one another’s company.
‘I was wondering where I’d be this time next year. Last year I was with Hugh’s family. I told Adam when he asked me, but he didn’t mind. He is very sweet.’
‘He is sweet,’ Flora replied, ‘and I also think he is very sweet on you.’ She carefully examined Lottie’s face. ‘It’s too soon after Hugh, isn’t it, to know how you feel?’
‘I do like him,’ Lottie faltered, ‘but not like Hugh. Not “in love”. In a way I feel I’m using him.’
‘I don’t imagine he minds.’
‘But I have to go home, Flora. I can’t stay here forever.’
‘Why not? What is there to take you back home?’
‘My family. My sister, especially. I worry about her and also leaving Dad for too long. They are poor letter writers and I have had hardly any correspondence from them.’
‘But if they’re not missing you it’s a pity you have to go back just when you are settling in here, earning a bit of money and, well, beginning to enjoy life, which you richly deserve after what you’ve been through. Think of Katherine Mansfield.’
‘Yes, but I’m not Katherine Mansfield. I once thought I’d write books, but I have no desire now, no real talent. I am enjoying myself. I love it here but, well, I’ll have to think about it.’
Lying awake next to Adam in his small bachelor flat just behind the national Gallery and Trafalgar Square, high up overlooking Nelson’s Column, Lottie thought back over the conversation with Flora, the fun they’d had that evening and the fact that she was enjoying the kind of Bohemian student life that she was gradually being absorbed into more and more and loved. She knew she could never be like them, she was too ignorant and naive, but she did listen a lot. Above all, she observed, and now that she was modelling, she felt she was becoming more like them. Besides, Adam had taught her so much and not just about love.
He showed her places in London she could never have visited without him: Hampstead Heath, Greenwich, the River Thames at Richmond, Hampton Court, the gardens at Kew and even tourist spots like the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey and Buckingham Palace. He taught her much more about art in the various London galleries. He had no interest at all in sport so in every way could not be more unlike Hugh, who he had never questioned her about until gradually she had begun to reveal, little by little, her background with the Carsons carefully, hesitantly, because when one considered it, it was so dauntingly grim.
Adam stirred beside her in the cramped bed and groped for her, then, opening his eyes, blinked hard. ‘You awake?’
‘Yes.’
‘Thinking?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re always thinking.’ He heaved himself up in bed and looked at his watch. ‘It’s only five o’clock. Did you have any sleep at all?
‘A bit.’
‘Tell me what you’re thinking about.’
‘I have to go home, Adam. The Feldmans want my room. I have to see my family. It’s a very uneasy situation.’
‘You could always come back.’
‘I could.’
‘I wish you would, Lottie. I’m beginning to – well, it must be obvious. I’m falling in love with you.’
She put her hand on his but continued to gaze ahead into the semi-darkness. Ahead of her stretched a future as uncertain as the kind of day it would turn out to be, sunshine or cloudy? The climate in London was not unlike that in New Zealand and one never knew what weather to expect.
‘You could always move in with me while you make up your mind. There’s not much room, but . . . Or I could move and get a larger flat. Or would that be too much of a commitment?’
She turned to him, gripping his hand. ‘You’re so good, Adam,’ and impulsively she leaned over him, positioning herself comfortably and invitingly in the bed as he moved towards her and locked her in a strong embrace.
He was too good. Much nicer than Hugh, but she knew it was too early to make any kind of commitment to someone she had only known a short time. She knew how things changed, how people changed. The Hugh in London – cold, remote – had been unrecognizable from the man she fell in love with in Wellington. He had become a completely different person, quite cynically making love to her when he knew he was in love with someone else and about to ditch her. Yet now she was sure he would disapprove of her relationship with Adam. He would consider her a ‘loose woman’, rather in the way he had condemned Flora, who obviously had entertained Rufus in her bed in Lamb’s Conduit Street. Not many men, just one, and Hugh had jumped to his own conclusions. But then men and women were supposed to behave differently. A woman who gave her body too often was loose, but for a man it was considered normal, even expected.
She had jumped on a bus going up Tottenham Court Road and then, after alighting at Russell Square, sat for a while in the square thinking over what Adam had suggested: to stay in London or to go home for a visit and then return, maybe forever, rather like Kathleen Mansfield. It was an appealing prospect, but then there was Bella and her father who she felt now she had let down, even neglected. Their silence worried her. She had written a letter only a few days before, one of many regular letters which unfortunately took so long to arrive.
Arriving in Mecklenburgh Square she let herself in and went straight up to her room to prepare for the day. She had a modelling session in the afternoon and Flora wanted to try and finish her portrait back here, where she would have time to talk to her about her future, relishing the prospect of Flora’s good common sense to help her in her dilemma.
She was about to take off her clothes ready for a bath when there was a knock on the door and she opened it to find Magda standing outside. ‘Oh, Magda,’ Lottie said apologetically, stepping aside. ‘Do come in. I was going to take a bath.’
Her heart sinking, she closed the door as Magda, expressionless, came in, fearing that she was now going to get her notice.
‘This came for you, Lottie,’ Magda said, handing her a buff envelope. ‘I think it came from your former digs and they had trouble finding you.’
‘Oh, thank you.’ Lottie reached for the envelope, her heart now racing. A wire could only mean bad news and she tore open the envelope.
She was right. Scanning the few words she slumped on to her bed and handed it to Magda, who read aloud: ‘We have trouble at home. Please come back, Dad.’
The two women stared at each other as Lottie said, ‘What can I do? This sounds awful.’
‘You could telephone him?’
‘We don’t have a telephone. They are not very common in Wellington. Oh, I know. Maybe the place where my father works. Could I use your phone, Magda?’
‘Of course,’ Magda said, putting a hand sympathetically on Lottie’s shoulder. ‘I’ll do anything I can to help.’
Getting the telephone number of Sir Eustace, or his whereabouts, was not a simple matter and took time, and also then to track her father, and it was not until the evening of the next day, due to the time difference, that Lottie was finally able to hear the sound of her father’s voice crackling over the wire.
‘Is that you, Lottie?’
‘Oh, Dad, it took ages to get to you. What is it, Dad? What is the matter? Are you all right?’
There was a silence and then the voice crackled again sounding nearer this time, maybe as he got used to the unfamiliar instrument and held it closer to his mouth. ‘Lottie, it’s about Bella. She is going to have a baby and we do need you here as quick as you can.’
As she stood on the deck of the boat which had brought her all the way from England and now steamed slowly into Wellington Harbour, Lottie was once again reminded of Hugh and the day when they had crossed it in his small yacht and climbed the hill behind Eastbourne and ran down the hill hand in hand after their kiss. Such a small but significant beginning had marked the start of a relationship which she had eventually come to think would endure.
Eventually her gaze turned towards the city of her birth with very different feelings from the ones she had had nearly five months before when she had said goodbye. Then it was a time of excitement, of hope, of anticipation. Now there was nothing but despair and anxiety on account not only of her sister, but the condition in which she found herself: no money, no job, nothing to look forward to.
When she left not only Bella and her father but the Carson family had come en bloc to see her off. Now she was sure there would be no familiar face on the quay.
And she was right.
Her baggage unloaded, she took a cab to her house, fortunate that she had a key as the door was locked. No one was in. She was pleased about this, pleased and sad as she put her case down in the sitting room and looked instinctively at the chair her father had so often occupied in the corner, glad that there was no longer a sad, weary figure sitting there, something positive that had come from her association with the Carsons. But everywhere was just as she had left it and, to her surprise and pleasure, tidy. But, of course, they knew she was coming.
She had cabled her father that she was on her way, but deliberately gave no exact time of her arrival and was glad she had left it vague.
Even her room was as she had left it. Next door Bella’s bore signs of recent occupation: an unmade bed, clothes on the floor, stuff scattered about. But her room looked as though it would remain unoccupied for some time, as though the occupier had left for good.
Tired, as she had had little sleep the night before, she lay on the bed and gazed up at the ceiling. There was an ache in her heart on account of so many hopes dashed, and tears welled up which she furiously blinked away, angry with herself for this show of emotion. After all, she had had many weeks during the long voyage to try and rid herself of her bitterness over Hugh and concentrate on the good things that had happened since. Unexpectedly Adam had found a place in her heart – not love but gratitude for his friendship and affection. She had found a new friend in Flora and more than that she had seen something of a country some people still thought of as the motherland, the hub of a great Empire.
She must have drifted off to sleep because she was awakened by the voice of her father. ‘Lottie, is it you? Are you there?’
And quickly she jumped off the bed and flew down the stairs and into the arms extended towards her. ‘Oh, Dad.’
‘Lottie,’ he crooned, as though she were a baby, stroking her head. ‘We’ve missed you. We needed you.’ Then he held her away from him and gazed at her. ‘Tears?’ he asked in some surprise.
‘Emotion, Dad.’
Lottie also stepped back and, once again angry with herself, brushed them from her eyes. ‘I should never have gone away. I missed you.’
‘And we missed you, Lottie, and needed you. But I suppose you wanted to be with your fiancé and that was understandable.’
He lit a cigarette with hands that shook, and sat down in his chair. ‘You have your own life to live but you should have told me when the boat was due and I’d have met you. Or did the Carsons meet you?’
Lottie shook her head. ‘Tell me about Bella? How is she?’
‘She is very well, but of course I am very worried, frightened. She is a terribly young girl to be in the family way.’
‘And who is . . . the father?’ Lottie sat down by the table.
‘Well.’ Desmond stroked his chin. ‘That seems to be a matter . . . Well.’ He glanced nervously at his daughter. ‘Actually, we don’t know.’
Lottie looked at him in amazement. ‘Does Bella know?’
‘Lottie, a lot has been going on that I know nothing about. I fear that Bella may have been seeing a number of men, boys, call them what you will. I don’t really know. She doesn’t confide in me.’
‘We didn’t supervise her enough,’ Lottie said. ‘We never asked where she was. We are both to blame, Dad. I was so occupied with Hugh, thinking of myself. I blame myself, more than you.’ She crossed the room and, perching on the arm of his chair, took his hand.
‘Above all,’ Desmond said angrily, ‘I blame your mother for leaving us as she did.’
‘Does Mum know?’
‘Not that I know, but Bella has become a dark horse, very secretive. I can’t watch her all the time. I don’t even know where she is now.’
‘But isn’t she at work? At the salon?’
‘Oh, no, they dismissed her as soon as they found she was expecting. It’s becoming very obvious now, Lottie. They said she was a disgrace and a bad example to the other young girls. And I’m afraid she is. It is also a drain on me, Lottie, to have to keep her. I don’t like to suggest it, but I wonder if you can help in any way. What exactly are your own plans?’
Desmond looked up at her, a hopeful expression on his face as though he was relying on her to ease some of the burden from his shoulders and make everything all right.
Sadly she had to disabuse him and for the next half hour or so she told him in some detail about her disastrous visit to London and her rejection by her fiancé.
Some hours later Lottie lay on her bed cuddling her little sister, whose tears had practically ceased, but every now and then her body was shaken by huge sobs and Lottie’s arm tightened around her comfortingly, protectively. Then all movement ceased and Lottie thought she had fallen asleep.
Bella had arrived home shortly after Lottie finished telling her doleful tale to her father and when she saw Lottie she’d practically collapsed in her arms. An emotional reunion had followed, some food was eaten, mostly by Desmond, who had to go out to drive Sir Eustace to an evening appointment, and the sisters had been left alone talking endlessly until it was time to go to bed. Then Bella had crept in with Lottie and the tears had started all over again.
She did know the father of her baby, but had been reluctant to tell her father, fearful of the action he might take. He was a boy called Len a little older than her and he worked on the wharves. She had not told Len because she thought she didn’t like him very much and was frightened of his parents. He had been quite rough and forceful with her – she was rather afraid of him and had decided not to see him again. And, no, she had not had sex with anyone else. Her father was quite wrong to suspect her of something like that. She hadn’t liked it at all and never wanted to do it again. She only realized she was pregnant when her periods stopped and she went to see the doctor who, fortunately, was a woman who was very kind to her. Lottie resolved to go and see her as soon as she could.
It was a sad, sad story, Lottie thought, for a girl of just fifteen and without any real adult help. She felt guiltier than ever that she had left her to go to London in pursuit of her own pleasure. In retrospect it seemed terribly selfish and the thought of returning to London was now quite out of the question. She had a lot to atone for by leaving her sister alone.
Bella was pretty and vulnerable and she should have known that she would be prey to unscrupulous male attention and too weak to resist. Bella had thought of telling her mother, but was too shy and fearful of what she might say. Bella’s life recently had been dominated too much by fear and she had been terribly alone, but now Lottie was back she had someone to look after her.
As if this message penetrated her consciousness Bella stirred, opened her eyes and her arm around Lottie tightened. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve let you down.’
‘I let you down.’
‘What will Hugh say?’
‘Hugh won’t know.’
‘When is he coming back?’
‘I don’t know.’ She looked down at her sister. ‘The romance is over, Bella. Hugh found someone else he loved more than me.’
‘Oh, Lottie. How awful for you. Were you very upset?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you still love him?’
‘Yes. Sadly, I think I do. I despise myself for it. I don’t mean to but I do think of him a lot. However, he is staying in London and I’m here and I’m here with you, Bella.’ Her tone suddenly changed and she turned and looked her sister straight in the eyes. ‘You’re not thinking of keeping your baby, are you?’
Bella’s eyes grew round. ‘How do you mean?’
‘It will be very difficult for you, for us, to look after a small baby.’
‘Well, I’m not going to give it away, if that’s what you mean.’
‘Have you thought about this seriously, Bella? I mean, seriously.’
‘I am not giving it away. That’s all I know.’
Bella’s hand went to her stomach and rested there as if she were protecting the vulnerable unborn. ‘Never, ever,’ she said firmly and her eyes began to close again. Lottie lay for a long time next to her sister, as if conscious of that other heartbeat next to her, as though there was a third person in the bed.
She knew she would support Bella, whatever she did. She would never let her down again and if that meant the end of her dream to return to London, so be it.
Mr Harvey had seemed pleased to see her and her hopes were high. She had dressed carefully and suitably in one of the frocks she had bought during her heyday with Hugh, the glorious six months when everything was going well and they were both in love.
He had enquired politely about her trip and was sorry to hear of her broken engagement. She felt she had to tell him the truth. But she tried to give an impression of cheerful optimism, as if the past was behind her. So it was a shock when, at the end of it, Mr Harvey crossed his hands on the desk and shook his head regretfully. ‘I’m sorry, Lottie, but I can’t offer you your position back or any other in the firm. I do feel you let us down and that is not an attitude we encourage at Harveys, where we place a high value on loyalty.’
‘But . . .’
He held up a hand. ‘No “buts”, I’m afraid. It’s a fact. You told me you were going to get married and I said I was sorry that you gave us so little notice.’
‘I didn’t have much myself.’
‘Well, then, maybe that was rather an impulsive thing to do and all in all your behaviour is rather impulsive. That is not the kind of employee we wish to have here. Who knows that you won’t do the same thing and change your mind again, perhaps?’
With an emphasis on the word ‘again’ he stood up. ‘I did have a word with Mrs Morgan when I got your letter and she was quite adamant about your attitude. In fact,’ he managed a bleak smile, ‘it might have been kinder not to see you, but I liked you and I felt I owed you an explanation. I once considered that you had a very good career ahead of you and you were well thought of but, for whatever reason, you let us down. Promise not fulfilled I’m afraid, Lottie, but I wish you well.’ And he extended his hand and shook hers, while showing her politely to the door.
She supposed they all thought that was what happened to a jumped-up woman who had the nerve to aspire to marrying a Carson. She’d got what she deserved. She didn’t feel she wanted to see Mavis, who doubtless would have rubbed that in with some glee. Instead she took herself for a long walk by the waterfront, trying to think constructively, but no constructive thought came and it was in a mood of profound pessimism that she returned home, where she found her father unexpectedly back early and making himself a cup tea.
‘Didn’t get the job, any job,’ Lottie said disconsolately, sinking into her father’s chair. ‘In fact, Mr Harvey gave me what you might call a good talking to. I am apparently unreliable and not the sort of person they want to employ.’ She looked up at her father with a kind of despair. ‘Never mind, I’ll go on trying. I’ll find something, anything.’
Her father put a hand on her shoulder. ‘That’s very unfair of Mr Harvey. You are not at all unreliable. If he knew what I know about you he’d realize that you are the most reliable person in the world. A rock.’
‘I did go off to London and leave my young sister at the mercy of, well . . . anything. My mind was too focused on myself, Dad, and Hugh.’
‘It doesn’t mean you’re unreliable. It means you were in love and that can happen to anyone. Even Mr Harvey. Cup of tea, dear?’
‘That would be lovely, Dad.’ Surprised and gratified that her father was now apparently capable of getting his own tea, she put out a hand and clasped his. ‘You’re my rock. Where’s Bella?’
‘She went out with Gertie from next door. I think they’re just going for a walk.’
Lottie took the tea cup from her father and sipped it thoughtfully. ‘What are we going to do about her?’
‘I suppose she will have the baby adopted. Did she say anything to you?’
Lottie nodded. ‘Oh, yes, she definitely wants to keep it. she is very firm, if a little woolly-minded, as if she likes the idea of having a small baby to care for – rather like a doll, I expect. Something to play with.’
Bella had always been a girl who liked playing with dolls. She was a very girlish girl, unlike her sister.
Her father slumped in the chair opposite her, tea cup in hand. ‘How can we look after a baby as well as Bella?’
‘We’ll have to manage somehow, Dad. We’ll cope.’
‘Oh, this came for you, a letter from England. Maybe from Hugh?’
Her father turned to the table and passed her an envelope, and momentarily Lottie’s heartbeat quickened with the fleeting, irrational thought that maybe Hugh had changed his mind. But the handwriting was unfamiliar and she tore open the envelope, drew out a couple of sheets of paper, and looked at the signature.
‘Oh, it’s from someone I met in England. I’ll read it later,’ she said and hurriedly stuffed it in her pocket. ‘Bella rather liked the doctor she saw, a young woman, so I thought I’d go and see her and ask her advice, though if Bella wants to keep her baby I’ll support her, even though at the moment I don’t know how I’ll be able to.’
Desmond finished his tea and got up. ‘I must get back to work; take Lady Frobisher to some meeting or other.’
‘Oh, you drive her around too?’
‘All the family. Sir Eustace is in court all day. Lady Frobisher does a lot of charity work. Oh, by the way, Lottie, Sir Eustace and Lady Frobisher are having a big party in a couple of weeks. Maybe you could help out waitressing? I know the firm who are doing the catering – I could see if there’d be room for you? Would you mind that? It would be paid, of course.’
‘Anything, Dad.’ Lottie got up. ‘That is, if I don’t get a job before. I’ll go to Kirkcaldies tomorrow and then just try around.’
After her father had gone Lottie went upstairs and, lying on her bed, read the letter from Adam. Its tone surprised her. It was quite passionate and he told her that he realized he had fallen in love with her, missed her and wanted her back again. Finally it ended:
I know you love London and there is so much for you here, Lottie. You were a great success as a model and a lot of the students have asked after you. I hope if you solve your family problems you will give some thought to my suggestion. Don’t worry about money or accommodation. It will all be taken care of.
Yours ever devotedly,
Adam
P.S. Flora sends her love and wants to finish her portrait of you. It’s very good.
Lottie put the letter on one side and gazed out of the window. The only view it offered was the tops of the houses opposite and the sky. Not like the tops of the trees swaying in lovely Mecklenburgh Square or Admiral Nelson atop his statue as seen from Adam’s tiny flat.
London. A place of enchantment, of adventure, and an introduction to a new kind of life, new opportunities. She knew she had been a success in the art class and though she had so far refused to pose nude there was plenty of work, especially to those who wished just to draw or paint her face, usually in profile. Also, having seen how decorous the nude models were and how professional and respectful the students, it had crossed her mind that one day she just might consider posing in the nude and earn a lot more money as well.
She felt that in Flora and Adam she had made two new, good friends in London and, when the time was right, in her heart of hearts she knew she yearned to go back, away from unwelcoming cold Wellington with all its unhappy memories, to the chance to mix in the kind of Bohemian environment that so appealed to her, a chance to start a new life.