Font Size:  

Ruby said: "You're not one of them, are you?"

"No! Don't be ridiculous."

"No need to be insulted. You're handsome enough for a pansy, except for that squashed nose."

He laughed. "That's what they call a backhanded compliment."

"You are, though. You look like Douglas Fairbanks Junior."

"Well, thanks, but I'm not a pansy."

"Have you got a girlfriend?"

This was becoming embarrassing. "No, not at the moment." He made a show of checking his watch and looking for the train.

"Why not?"

"I just haven't met Miss Right."

"Oh, thank you very much, I'm sure."

He looked at her. She was only half joking. He felt mortified that she had taken his remark personally. "I didn't mean . . ."

"Yes, you did. But never mind. Here's the train."

The locomotive drew into the station and came to a halt in a cloud of steam. The doors opened and passengers stepped out onto the platform: students in tweed jackets, famers' wives going shopping, workingmen in flat caps. Lloyd scanned the crowd for his mother. "She'll be in a third-class carriage," he said. "Matter of principle."

Ruby said: "Would you come to my twenty-first-birthday party?"

"Of course."

"My friend's got a little flat in Market Street, and a deaf landlady."

Lloyd was not comfortable about this invitation, and hesitated over his reply; then his mother appeared, as pretty as a songbird in a red summer coat and a jaunty little hat. She hugged and kissed him. "You look very well, my lovely," she said. "But I must buy you a new suit for next term."

"This one is fine, Mam." He had a scholarship that paid his university fees and basic living expenses, but it did not run to suits. When he started at Cambridge his mother had dipped into her savings and bought him a tweed suit for daytime and an evening suit for formal dinners. He had worn the tweed every day for two years, and it showed. He was particular about his appearance, and made sure he always had a clean white shirt, a perfectly knotted tie, and a folded white handkerchief in his breast pocket: there had to be a dandy somewhere in his ancestry. The suit was carefully pressed, but it was beginning to look shabby, and in truth he longed for a new one, but he did not want his mother to spend her savings.

"We'll see," she said. She turned to Ruby, smiled warmly, and held out her hand. "I'm Eth Leckwith," she said with the easy grace of a visiting duchess.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Ruby Carter."

"Are you a student, too, Ruby?"

"No, I'm a maid at Chimbleigh, a big country house." Ruby looked a bit ashamed as she made this confession. "It's five miles out of town, but I can usually borrow a bike."

"Fancy that!" said Ethel. "When I was your age, I was a maid at a country house in Wales."

Ruby was amazed. "You, a housemaid? And now you're a member of Parliament!"

"That's what democracy means."

Lloyd said: "Ruby and I organized today's meeting together."

His mother said: "And how is it going?"

"Sold out. In fact we had to move to a bigger hall."

"I told you it would work."

Source: www.allfreenovel.com