Page 43 of The Way We Are Now

14

Maureen opened a door on the left and led the way in, smoothing the counterpane of the single bed before depositing a couple of towels onto it.

‘If there’s anything you want, just ask. I’m working all evening, so you’ll find me in the kitchen or helping with the drinks and serving dinner. I hope you’ll be comfortable.’ She offered up an on/off smile, gave Theo a bit of a strange look and left.

‘You OK?’ Theo put my overnight case on the floor and dress bag on the bed, walked over to the open window and looked out and down at the sound of laughter and raised voices heralding the obvious arrival of other guests, but then came over to me.

‘Fine, fine,’ I twittered, my pulse racing as he bent to kiss my cheek.

‘You sure? Can be a bit overwhelming all this, I guess…’ He trailed off.

‘You mean for a poor miner’s daughter from Rothersley?’ The words were out before I could stop them.

‘That wasn’t what I meant at all.’ He grinned down at me. ‘Stop being so scratchy. Right, no en suite to this room, I’m afraid. The bathroom and lavatory are down the corridor on your left. The plumbing can be a bit erratic, but there’s usually plenty of hot water for you to have a shower.’

Another shower? I’d already been in the bath and washed my hair that morning before walking the two minutes to Linda’s sister’s place.

Theo looked at his watch. ‘Drinks in the Great Hall – we pinch it back from the Trust for dos like this – at seven. Dinner will be in the ballroom and out into the marquee.’ He smiled down at me. ‘So, you’ve an hour or so to dress. That OK?’

An hour to dress? All I had to do was slip into the red dress and I was good to go.

‘Lovely,’ I said, wondering what the hell I was going to do with myself for an hour. It wasn’t as if I’d brought Carmen rollers or needed to redo Kath’s make-up. Good job I’d brought a book – The History of Working Conditions of Miners – with me. I could always do a bit of research for my dissertation.

‘OK, I’ll go and get showered and dressed.’ Theo kissed my cheek once more, and it was all I could do not to grab hold of him and kiss the face off him.

Once he’d left, I sniffed my armpits. Did I need a shower? But I didn’t have a shower cap with me and didn’t want to risk my up-do becoming a down-do. I undressed down to my underwear, walked over to the large enamel washstand and washed under my arms and between my legs, drying them with the somewhat scratchy white towel Maureen had left for me, and rolled on more deodorant. I cleaned my teeth, rubbing vigorously before hunting for chewing gum in my bag. Nothing worse than bad breath.

I stepped into the beautiful red dress, admiring the cut and style as I looked down but, unable to see the full effect without a long mirror, I looked round the room. There didn’t appear to be one of those long mirrors that tilt backwards and forwards. ‘Cheval – that’s what they’re called…’ I muttered. ‘And how appropriate for a horsey do like this…’ I bared my teeth in a neigh of laughter. Oh, God, now I was talking and neighing to myself like Mister Ed. I climbed onto the bed, desperately balancing on the overly soft and rather lumpy mattress while seeing as much as I could of my reflection in the mirror over the washstand.

Another couple of minutes had gone.

I wandered over to the open window, looking down onto a courtyard where lackeys and waiters were already assembling buckets of champagne and glasses, directing more overnight guests to the side door where I assumed they’d be allocated rooms and attended to by Maureen and her team. A rather horsey-looking girl, probably about my age, came into view appearing and sounding slightly exasperated. Wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, she didn’t seem to be one of the regular guests, but was now standing, hands on hips, gazing round at the courtyard and then towards the huge cream-coloured marquee whose top could just be seen in the field beyond the house.

‘Mary!’ she called, loudly. And then, to herself, but loud enough for me to hear: ‘Where the hell are you now?’

I turned from the window as a soft thumping came at the bedroom door and the handle moved slightly. Oh, was it Theo back? I did hope so. Baring my teeth once more, but this time for signs of lipstick, I waited with what I hoped was a sultry look on my face. (Linda had made me practise such a look in the office, but said I was no good at it, laughing that I looked like a constipated penguin.)

‘Oh, hello!’

A small girl stood at the entrance, a huge cheeky smile on her face. She had Theo’s fair hair and soulful brown eyes. And was, very obviously, a child with Down’s syndrome.

‘You not Susannah,’ she said, frowning while gazing round the room. ‘Where she is?’

Where indeed? The whole household appeared to have been expecting Susannah.

‘No, I’m Anna.’ I held out my hand and she took it solemnly. ‘Who are you?’

‘Mary. I’m a princess.’

‘Yes, I can see that,’ I said, taking in the fairy dress and tinsel in her hair. She’d clearly been at the Christmas decorations.

‘I’m going to the ball like Sindy.’

‘Sindy?’

‘Sindy Rella.’

‘Well, how fabulous!’