Bourbon Creams and Tattered Dreams Read online

  Coming to her side, Nellie leaned her back against the large wheel of the penny-farthing. ‘Remember the night we spent in that shed when the Zeppelins bombed Courage’s?’

  Matty laughed and nodded. ‘Then Freddie “found” a few barrels of beer washed up on the foreshore and rolled home blind drunk!’

  They were silent for a moment, then Matty shivered.

  ‘Are you cold?’ Nellie put an arm round Matty to keep her warm.

  Matty sighed miserably. ‘No, I was thinking about Tom.’

  Nellie gave her a long look. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve given him the elbow again! Matty, he’s a lovely feller! I was half expecting to hear you’d be getting engaged. He’s waited long enough for you.’

  ‘No, we’re not engaged! I would have said we’re happy as we are, but the truth is lately we haven’t been getting on... he can be a bit over-protective.’

  Nellie sniffed her disapproval. ‘If that’s all that’s wrong with him, then think yourself lucky. You only have to remember that feller Rossi you left behind in America. Give me protective any day!’

  She leaned her head on Nellie’s shoulder. ‘You’re right, as usual. You’ll miss this old place, won’t you?’ Matty smiled up at her in the moonlight.

  ‘But not the rats...’ Nellie said. ‘Nor the stink of the glue factory. But Will was telling me you’re off to somewhere a bit grander for New Year.’

  Matty lifted her head and pulled a face. ‘I haven’t decided yet.’

  ‘Why not? You need to get out of Bermondsey, Matty. You’ve been used to a different life. You go.’

  ‘Truth is, Nellie, I’ve got nothing to wear and the council pays me less than Peek’s. I don’t know how I’m going to afford any new dresses.’

  Unnoticed, a pale shadow had joined them, and both Matty and Nellie jumped when a small voice said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll ask my sister Milly to make you some if you like. She’s a lovely seamstress.’

  Bobby’s wife, Elsie, always seemed to gravitate towards Matty. She was a lifelong fan and Matty found her adulation touching. She was going to refuse when Nellie pronounced decisively, ‘If Milly Hughes makes your dresses you wouldn’t look out of place in a palace!’

  ***

  Will had described it as a jumbled mixture of medieval castle, Elizabethan manor and eighteenth-century mansion, a history of England in linked wings, with some rooms furnished like Hampton Court, and others decked out in Lady Fetherstone’s choice of stark, angular modern furnishings, looking more like the Savoy Hotel. She was intrigued by what she’d heard of Feathers’ family: their ancestors had come over with William the Conqueror and an unbroken line of Fetherstones had lived in Fonstone since then. But his mother had injected a strain of modernity, taking over the decoration and entertaining. It was rumoured she’d had many lovers, mostly from the theatre world, though her current favourite was Neville Piper, a playwright and songwriter, who would be among the New Year guests.

  They had been collected from the station by the Fetherstones’ car, which was now negotiating the steep, winding drive. They reached a break in the screen of trees and Matty had her first glimpse of Fonstone, spreading proudly across the brow of a hill. The sight drew a simultaneous intake of breath from both her and Tom.

  The central russet-brick mansion was flanked by two grey stone wings, each with a terrace reached by a flight of curved stone steps. The house was fronted by a long, striped lawn the size of Southwark Park, with green columns of clipped yews lining the final stretch of drive. As they mounted still higher she could see beyond the main house, where another two-storey building, pierced by pointed windows, formed a cloistered courtyard. The fourth side of the courtyard was a turreted wall ending in a massive circular tower, with arrow-slit windows. The arms of the Fetherstone family fluttered on the tower and Matty thought the castle Douglas Fairbanks had stormed in Robin Hood must have been modelled on it.

  ‘Impressive, isn’t it?’ Will asked, obviously proud of his friend’s home.

  Tom shifted uncomfortably in his seat next to her. ‘I can’t see why Lady Fetherstone would want to get involved in our little operation,’ he said with an audible swallow.

  Tom hadn’t been keen to come, but she’d persuaded him they’d be more likely to secure Lady Fetherstone’s support if he were there to argue the case. Now she wondered if she’d done the right thing to push him. At least she’d had some experience of being wined and dined by high society in America. Frank had taken her to the best hotels and restaurants, although now she doubted he’d ever had to foot the bill. With Will sitting between them, she’d had no chance to talk to Tom on the train journey and their estrangement was stripping her nerves. She wasn’t going to apologize again. She’d confessed to him all that she wanted to, all that she dared, and if it wasn’t good enough, then she’d have to live with that. If he wanted an open book for a companion he could go to a library!

  They drew nearer the house and just as the car crunched gravel the heavy front door was flung open and a butler appeared on the front steps. Barrel-chested and grim-faced, he was soon joined by two uniformed footmen who began unloading their luggage. The chauffeur helped her out of the car and for a moment she didn’t know where to go. Should she follow the footman and her suitcase or approach the unsmiling butler?

  ‘He looks a friendly type,’ Tom hissed into her ear and she grabbed his arm. Will hopped out of the car. ‘Don’t mind Daring. He likes to think he owns the place,’ he said under his breath.

  ‘Dear chap!’ Matty was relieved to see the familiar, gangly figure of Will’s friend hurrying out to meet them. He was dressed differently than he’d been in Bermondsey, in a smart tweed suit and tie, and he’d obviously made an effort for his guests, but the floppy hair and broad smile were the same. He greeted her with a warm handshake.

  ‘Follow me. Ma Feathers is desperate to meet you. I’ve been given instructions to take you straight to her sitting room!’ He took Matty’s hand and led her past Daring, the butler, who fortunately was shorter than Matty, so couldn’t look down his nose at her, though she suspected he would have liked to.

  Lady Fetherstone was a tall, thin woman, with an almost concave figure. Long-limbed like Feathers, she was otherwise very different from her fair-haired, round-faced son, who must have taken after his father. Her dark hair, parted on one side, shone in rippling waves to her drop earrings, which dangled with sparkling brilliance. She flowed elegantly towards them, hands outstretched to greet Matty as if she’d known her all her life.

  ‘My dear Miss Gilbie, Gerald has told me so much about you. And this must be Mr Roberts.’ She shook Tom’s hand and he smiled nervously. ‘Will, tiresome child, I should lock you in the tower for daring to drag my son into Herr Hitler’s lair!’ She tried to frown at Will, but then her smile and kiss belied the stern words.

  ‘You’ll have to lock me up too then. I’ve told you, Ma, I’m as much to blame.’

  Matty saw a look pass between mother and son, and guessed that the discussions between them had been heated.

  ‘I’ve beaten you to it, Lady Fetherstone, Will’s already been imprisoned with me in Bermondsey for a month,’ Matty said.

  ‘Which was punishment enough...’ Will muttered.

  ‘Enough recriminations! Come and have some tea.’ Lady Fetherstone rang a bell and sat down near the blazing fire.

  The room was furnished in the latest art-deco style. A coffee and cream circular rug filled the centre of the room and curve-backed sofas and chairs in cream leather were placed round the fire. On the walls, black ebony panelling was inlaid with lighter wood, each panel seeming to tell a pictorial story. Matty was intrigued by the panel above the fireplace, showing stylized images of industrial machinery, which, if she hadn’t known better, Matty would have taken for the belt-driven machines that carried the biscuits from the bakeroom in Peek Frean’s.

  ‘Ah, do you like my tribute to Great-Grandfather’s model production line?’ she asked Matty, spotting her inter
est. ‘My father’s family made their money in biscuits!’ she said proudly.

  ‘A bit like Matty really!’ Will whispered to his friend mischievously.

  She was relieved to see that the remark had gone unnoticed, for Lady Fetherstone tucked her long legs to one side and leaned forward, elbows on knees, chin propped on hands in an attentive attitude.

  ‘Now, Miss Gilbie, may I call you Matty? Will you tell me all about these wonderful films you are making in Bermondsey? I’m fascinated to hear how you became involved.’ She glanced at Tom. ‘And where did you find Mr Roberts?’

  Matty saw Tom raise an eyebrow and begin to open his mouth. Before he could say anything clever, she said, ‘Oh, he found me!’

  Once she’d launched into a description of the public health films she felt on safer ground, and invited Tom to talk about the cinemotors and their MP Dr Salter’s vision for a borough full of the latest health centres, maternity clinics and a purpose-built solarium.

  ‘In fact we’ve brought along a film to show you,’ he said. ‘Feath... Gerald tells me you’ve got a projector.’

  ‘Yes, mostly for our holiday films, but it would be marvellous if we could have a screening. Now tell me about the new talkies you intend to make with Matty as the “Modern Woman”. These are where I think I can help. I’m on the committees of various women’s charities, which may well want to support them. I’m sure I could steer them in the right direction.’

  Her gaze strayed to one of the long windows with a view of the front drive. She sat back and began playing with her long string of pearls. ‘Ah, Neville,’ she said, almost to herself, and stood up. ‘One of my other guests. Would you excuse me? We’ll talk more this evening!’ She gave Matty a lingering smile, as if she genuinely couldn’t bear to drag herself away, and glided out of the room.

  ‘A promising start,’ Feathers said, and only then did Matty realize that he’d been nervous about introducing her and Tom to his mother. However progressive Ma Feathers might be, she’d been elevated well beyond her great-grandfather’s biscuit-making roots.

  They stood up and Matty glanced out of the window. She recognized the man getting out of the car as Neville Piper, toast of London’s theatre land.

  As Feathers came to join her at the window, they watched his mother greet Neville with a very unmaternal kiss. Matty felt herself blushing, but the young man looked on impassively and said, ‘You’ll find that we are that rarest of things – a family without secrets.’

  *

  She was delighted to find that her room was in the older, cloister-like wing at the back of the house. A stone-mullioned arched window gave her a view of the gardens and the park beyond. Hedges divided the garden into separate rooms, with a rose garden nearest. In the fading light, black bare-stemmed bushes were outlined in crusted frost with only the large red hips giving any colour. Beyond the rose garden, Matty could make out a rectangular pool surrounded by the interwoven hedges of a knot garden. She was trying to imagine the scene in summer when a knock came on her door. It was Tom.

  ‘Are you sure you should be here?’ she said, letting him in anyway.

  ‘There’s bound to be some rule against it, but what would your charming little oik know about that?’ He shoved his hands in his pockets and went to the window.

  ‘Tom! What’s the matter?’

  ‘Where did you find me?’ His pale eyes flashed irritation.

  ‘Oh, she didn’t mean anything by it. What’s your room like?’

  ‘Better than yours.’

  ‘Don’t let it go to your head, and remember why we’re here. Just be your usual charming self and you’ll win her over in no time. It’s the films that matter, after all.’

  ‘I’m not sure she’s really serious, Matty. I feel as if we’re her latest hobby.’

  This wasn’t like Tom. Whatever his faults, lack of enthusiasm wasn’t one of them. She suspected it had more to do with her own trustworthiness than with Lady Fetherstone’s.

  She joined him by the window. He was staring towards the line of trees in the park, which had now turned black against a violet sky. If things had been easier between them, now would be the time he’d take her in his arms, in laughing defiance of propriety.

  ‘Tom—’

  He interrupted her. ‘Better get dressed for dinner.’

  But at the door, she wouldn’t let him go without a kiss. He pulled away as a maid appeared at the end of the long corridor.

  ‘I’ll come and knock for you,’ he said and disappeared in the direction of his room.

  She went to the wardrobe where the new silver-grey evening dress had already been hung up for her. Elsie’s sister, Milly, had lovingly crafted it, cleverly bias-cutting the satin so that its fluid folds enhanced Matty’s slim figure. She had been impressed by the woman’s quick understanding of exactly what was needed – maximum impact for minimum cost. Milly Hughes certainly had an eye for style and knew better than Matty what hemlines and colours were in fashion. But she felt guilty at the many hours it must have taken her to sew on all those beads, and also at her insistence she only charge Matty for materials. ‘Because you’re family,’ she’d said with finality.

  Matty dressed carefully, finally draping a black velvet wrap over the low-backed dress. When Tom called for her, she was rewarded with a wide-eyed look of appreciation.

  ‘You really do look like a screen goddess!’ he said, but this time, when he didn’t bend to kiss her, she understood the depth of his hurt. She was certain she had lost him.

  The dining room was the opposite of Lady Fetherstone’s sitting room. It was an ugly confusion of coloured marble, the floor chequered with russet, black and white, and the walls panelled in turquoise and ivory. A heavy marble sideboard held silver dishes and the chandeliers bounced light along the dining table. She was glad to be on Tom’s arm, unsure of who else would be among the party. But she needn’t have worried. She’d been placed next to Neville Piper, who it turned out was, apart from Elsie, her greatest fan.

  ‘I saw you at the Hippodrome before you went to America and I have your recordings, my dear – and there are far too few of them! Of course I adored London Affair. But I have a bone to pick with you! How could you deprive us of the Cockney Canary? You’re far too young to have gone into retirement. Can’t I persuade you out of it?’

  Will, who was sitting opposite, came to her aid. ‘Oh, she’s doing far more important things now, really making a difference.’ And though Neville Piper didn’t seem impressed to have been interrupted, she was grateful for the distraction.

  The dinner was proving less daunting than she’d expected. It seemed that Lady Fetherstone was a widow and the only other member of the party was Frances, Feathers’ sister. She was a hearty-looking young woman of about eighteen, conspicuously without make-up, with hair bound loosely in a Grecian loop, and dressed in a wide-shouldered voluminous garment that looked more home-made than Matty’s own.

  ‘Look at Miss Gilbie’s divine dress, darling,’ Lady Fetherstone remarked to her daughter at one point. ‘Perhaps you could give Frances the name of your dressmaker in London,’ she asked Matty pointedly.

  ‘Man-made fibres are anathema to me, Mother,’ Frances said fiercely. ‘You should know that.’

  ‘Our dear Frances is a keen member of the Kindred of the Kibbo Kift,’ Feathers explained. ‘She’ll give us a demonstration of wood craft later, if we ask her nicely.’

  ‘Oh, shut up, Gerald, it’s more than just camping and wood carving.’ She addressed Matty. ‘We’re working towards a better world, you know, one where your Bermondsey factories would be made redundant – surely that would make your work a lot easier?’

  ‘Well, Frankie, if it weren’t for Great-Grandpa’s biscuit factories you might never have had the leisure to handcraft your delightful costumes and walk barefoot in the dew!’

  Frances shot her brother a venomous look and Lady Fetherstone suggested they retire to the drawing room. It was only when the men came in from drinking th
eir port that Matty began to feel awkward. Neville made a beeline for her and she wasn’t sure that Lady Fetherstone enjoyed being deprived of his attention. He insisted on taking her on a tour of the room, which was vast and high-ceilinged and covered in the most deceptive trompe l’oeil paintings on walls and ceiling. The illusion was of a Roman villa, with recessed arches and niches housing stone vases and statues. And the curtains weren’t real curtains at all, but painted drapes that Matty felt the need to reach out and stroke.

  ‘It’s like a film set!’ she exclaimed. ‘None of it’s real!’

  And Neville Piper seemed pleased. ‘Hideous, isn’t it, darling? Painted by a former favourite of Lady Fetherstone,’ he said tartly. ‘And now, of course, they can’t get rid of it without tearing the bloody walls down.’

  To Matty it was as magical as any Hollywood studio, but she said nothing. Their circuit of the room ended at a cocktail table. A table lamp glowed through various exotic-looking bottles, their gem-like colours of green and ruby red splashed on to cocktail glasses and the tall silver shaker. Feathers was mixing drinks.

  ‘Tom’s been showing me how to make a Gibson. Here, try this,’ he said, pouring the drink from the cocktail shaker and adding a silverskin onion.

  She took a sip. ‘Perfect!’ But before she could drink any more, Neville Piper whipped the glass away and took hold of her hand.

  ‘Come with me, darling. I’m determined you shall make a comeback and there’s no time like the present!’

  He led her to a gleaming black grand piano, sat down and struck a chord. Matty wanted to run. This was not why she’d come. She looked appealingly at Tom. Either he didn’t want to see her or he really was engrossed in his conversation with Lady Fetherstone about the ‘Modern Woman’ in films. She heard the words ‘biscuit factory’ and hoped to God he wasn’t elaborating on her stint at Peek Frean’s. Will and Gerald were lounging together on the sofa, cocktails in hand, ready to be entertained. Her only hope was Frances. She was sure the girl would prefer an evening of folk songs, but now she surprised Matty with a request.