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"Yes."
And Lloyd was leaving in the morning.
"You don't seem very pleased," Boy said. He looked at her dress. "Did you have something else planned?"
"Such as what?" she said. She had to regain her composure. "A night out at the Two Crowns pub, perhaps?" she asked sarcastically.
"Speaking of that, let's have a drink." He left the room in search of booze.
Daisy buried her face in her hands. How could this be? Her plan was ruined. She would have to find some way of alerting Lloyd. And she could not declare her love for him in a hurried whisper with Boy around the corner.
She told herself that the whole scheme would simply be postponed. It was only for a few days: he was due back next Tuesday. The delay would be agonizing, but she would survive, and so would her love. All the same, she almost cried with disappointment.
She finished putting on her stockings and shoes, then she went into the little sitting room.
Boy had found a bottle of Scotch and two glasses. She took some to be convivial. He said: "I see that girl is making a fish pie for supper. I'm starving. Is she a good cook?"
"Not really. Her food is edible, if you're hungry."
"Oh, well, there's always whisky," he said, and he poured himself another drink.
"What have you been doing?" She was desperate to get him to talk so that she would not have to. "Did you fly to Norway?" The Germans were winning the first land battle of the war there.
"No, thank God. It's a disaster. There's a big debate in
the House of Commons tonight." He began to talk about the mistakes the British and French commanders had made.
When supper was ready, Boy went down to the cellar to get some wine. Daisy saw a chance to alert Lloyd. But where would he be? She looked at her wristwatch. It was half past seven. He would be having dinner in the mess. She could not walk into that room and whisper in his ear as he sat at the table with his fellow officers: it would be as good as telling everyone they were lovers. Was there some way she could get him out of there? She racked her brains, but before she could think of anything Boy returned, triumphantly carrying a bottle of 1921 Dom Perignon. "The first vintage they made," he said. "Historic."
They sat at the table and ate Maisie's fish pie. Daisy drank a glass of the champagne but she found it difficult to eat. She pushed her food around the plate in an attempt to look normal. Boy had a second helping.
For dessert Maisie served canned peaches with condensed milk. "War has been bad for British cuisine," Boy said.
"Not that it was great before," Daisy commented, still working on seeming normal.
By now Lloyd must be in the Gardenia Suite. What would he do if she were unable to get a message to him? Would he remain there all night, waiting and hoping for her to arrive? Would he give up at midnight and return to his own bed? Or would he come down here looking for her? That might be awkward.
Boy took out a large cigar and smoked it with satisfaction, occasionally dipping the unlit end into a glass of brandy. Daisy tried to think of an excuse to leave him and go upstairs, but nothing came. What pretext could she possibly cite for visiting the trainees' quarters at this time of night?
She still had done nothing when he put out his cigar and said: "Well, time for bed. Do you want to use the bathroom first?"
Not knowing what else to do, she got up and went into the bedroom. Slowly, she took off the clothes she had put on so carefully for Lloyd. She washed her face and put on her least alluring nightdress. Then she got into bed.
Boy was moderately drunk when he climbed in beside her, but he still wanted sex. The thought appalled her. "I'm sorry," she said. "Dr. Mortimer said no marital relations for three months." This was not true. Mortimer had said it would be all right when the bleeding stopped. She felt horribly dishonest. She had been planning to do it with Lloyd tonight.
"What?" Boy said indignantly. "Why?"
Improvising, she said: "If we do it too soon, it might affect my chances of getting pregnant again, apparently."
That convinced him. He was desperate for an heir. "Ah, well," he said, and turned away.
In a minute he was asleep.
Daisy lay awake, her mind buzzing. Could she slip away now? She would have to get dressed--she certainly could not walk around the house in her nightdress. Boy slept heavily, but often woke to go to the bathroom. What if he did that while she was gone, and saw her return with her clothes on? What story could she tell that had a chance of being believed? Everyone knew there was only one reason why a woman went creeping around a country house at night.
Lloyd would have to suffer. And she suffered with him, thinking of him alone and disappointed in that musty room. Would he lie down in his uniform and fall asleep? He would be cold, unless he pulled a blanket around him. Would he assume some emergency, or just think she had carelessly stood him up? Perhaps he would feel let down, and be angry with her.
Tears rolled down her face. Boy was snoring, so he would never know.
