‘The poor woman.’
They both looked across the crowded dance floor to where Julia was standing alone and glum-faced.
‘I feel sorry for her,’ said Isabella. ‘So much so, I’m going over to talk to her, seeing as nobody else is.’
Ralph held onto Isabella. ‘Not before you’ve promised to let me take you for dinner next week when we’re back in London.’
‘Tell you what,’ she said after a moment’s hesitation, ‘if you agree to dance with Julia and put a smile on her face, you can.’
He frowned and was about to say Julia was the last woman he wanted to be seen dancing with when he thought of his Plan B. ‘You’re on,’ he said.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Meadow Lodge, Melstead St Mary
October 1962
Julia
‘Stop, Ralph, you’re making me dizzy!’
‘Stop when we’re having so much fun, stepmother dearest? Nonsense!’
The band was playing a lively jive number and as Ralph spun Julia round again and again, she couldn’t help but laugh out loud. How different to the way she had been feeling before, standing on the edge of the dance floor in the marquee with nobody to talk to. She had always been a wallflower when it came to these social occasions, and so she had been grateful to Ralph when he had asked her to dance. Even if it had been an offer made out of pity.
‘See,’ he said with a charming smile as they continued dancing, ‘you didn’t mean it when you told me to stop.’
‘But I’m afraid I’ll fall over and make a spectacle of myself,’ she said with another giggle.
He winked. ‘Then you’d better hold on tight so that doesn’t happen!’
When the music did come to a stop, and with her head spinning, Ralph suggested he fetch them both another cooling drink. He led her off the dance floor and went in search of a waitress, leaving her to worry that the punch she had already drunk had gone to her head a little. While she waited for him to return, she caught her breath and tried to locate Arthur amongst the crowd.
She felt guilty that she was having such a good time without him, and he’d gone to so much trouble to buy her this new dress for the evening. It wasn’t really to her liking – the colour was wrong for her pale complexion, and the style made her feel matronly compared to all the other women here. They must think her dreadfully plain and dowdy. She longed to wear something dazzling, or even daring like some of the young girls here, but then she never had before, so why did she think she could now? She had been brought up to dress and act modestly, never to draw attention to herself.
It was one of the things that Arthur said he liked about her, her natural propensity for humility. He said she was very different to his previous wives who he described as vain show-offs who cared for nothing but their appearance, an attitude he couldn’t abide. It explained why he had such definite ideas on how she should dress.
‘You’re mistress of Melstead Hall,’ he would say, ‘so you need to dress appropriately, not like those young tarts in the village.’
This was why she knew there was no truth in that malicious rumour she’d once heard in the village, that Arthur had forced himself on one of their maids. He simply wasn’t the type of man to chase after young girls. Probably it was the other way round, the maid had thrown herself at him and he’d firmly rebuffed her. Maybe it was the same girl who had sent Julia that anonymous letter.
‘There you go,’ Ralph said, back with her now and passing her a glass that was full to the brim. ‘Bottoms up!’
‘I mustn’t monopolise you,’ she said, after she’d taken a sip of the sweet liquid, taking care not to spill it down her new dress. ‘Not when you should be dancing with girls your own age.’
‘Time for that later,’ he said. ‘For now I want to make you laugh some more. You know, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you this jolly. You always give the impression of being so serious.’
She blushed at his words, not knowing how to respond.
‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘apart from dancing with your stepson, what else makes you laugh?’
‘All sorts of things,’ she replied.
‘Such as?’
‘Charles; he always—’ she broke off, realising she was about to betray herself by saying he always cheered her up. To say that would make her sound as though she weren’t happy. And she was happy. It was just that now Charles was away at school she was lonely at times.
‘What does Charles always do?’ Ralph prompted.
‘Smile,’ she said. ‘He makes me smile.’
‘Do you miss him?’ he asked.
Surprised by the question, Julia said, ‘What sort of a mother would I be if I didn’t?’
‘He’s lucky to have you as his mother in that case. I doubt mine gave me a second thought once she left my father. She was glad to be shot of us both.’
‘Don’t say that.’
‘Why not? It’s the truth. Drink up, I’m going to claim another dance with you, so brace yourself!’
‘Oh, I’d better not,’ she said.
‘What, better not drink up, or better not dance some more?’
‘Both. I ought to find Arthur. He’ll be wondering where I’ve got to.’
‘Come on, Julia, let your hair down. You’re not shackled to the old man. You’re not afraid of him, are you?’
With a slight recoil, she frowned at the taunting tone in Ralph’s voice. ‘What makes you say that?’ she said.
‘You’re like a timid little mouse when he’s around.’
‘Don’t be silly, of course I’m not. I just don’t like to antagonise him like you . . . ’ her voice trailed off as she lost her nerve.
‘As I do, you were going to say?’
‘Well, you do seem to fall out with him such a lot. Can’t you be nicer to your father?’
‘I would if he were nicer to me.’ He drained his glass and looked at her with his charming smile. ‘I say, I don’t suppose you could do me a huge favour, could you?’
‘What sort of favour?’
‘Put in a good word for me and see if you can get the old man to change his mind about increasing my allowance?’
‘I’m not sure he’ll listen to me,’ she said, startled at his suggestion. Money was not something Arthur discussed apart from how to save it. He gave her housekeeping money and it was her job to make it cover all the bills. She took pride in doing that, because she knew it pleased him.