‘It sounds hilarious!’ said Meg.
‘I think it sounds quite … romantic,’ said Lizzie. ‘I can just imagine people waltzing round the room in their lovely dresses, jewels sparkling.’
‘Yeah, it is sort of sweet,’ Vanessa agreed. ‘But it is so far from what I had in mind when I asked Mummy if I could have a party for my friends.’
‘And this is Electra’s fault?’ asked Lizzie.
Vanessa nodded. ‘But good old Hugo has saved the day!’
‘How?’ asked Lizzie.
‘He’s arranged for us, and the rest of the younger crowd, to have a party tonight! After dinner,obviously, but it’ll be brilliant fun. He’s bought lots of records. The Beatles, the Beach Boys, all sorts—’
‘Won’t the noise annoy the grown-ups?’ asked Meg.
‘And won’t it make an awful lot of work for the servants? Having parties on consecutive nights?’ Lizzie was now obsessed with the well-being of people about whom she’d only previously read in books.
‘Hugo had a brilliant idea – we’re going to have it in the barn!’
‘A barn dance?’ asked Alexandra. ‘Like inSeven Brides for Seven Brothers? I love that film!’
‘Oh, so do I!’ said Lizzie.
Vanessa frowned a little at their enthusiasm. ‘It’ll be a normal party but in the barn, which is empty. There are bales of hay to sit on. And no band, just records. Hugo has bought so many! I think he felt guilty about Electra taking over. And of course he’s got his old rock and roll records out from his room.’
‘I love rock and roll,’ said Lizzie.
‘Come on,’ said Vanessa. ‘Let’s finish the bottle. The bell will go at any moment. Daddy will expect everyone to wear long for dinner but you can change into whatever you like afterwards. The party in the barn doesn’t start until nine.’
As Lizzie got ready for dinner, in her discreet, long velvet dress, which no one could possibly objectto, she thought of the dress she’d wear afterwards. It was one of the few dresses she’d brought from home: the last dress her mother had bought for her from the local department store that she had actually liked. It was primrose yellow with tiny little white dots on it. It had a full skirt and a boat neck and ended on her knee – perfect for jiving in!
Dinner was as about as tortuous as it could be, Lizzie thought, given that the food was quite nice and she was seated fairly near Hugo.
It started off badly when she heard herself referred to by Sir Jasper as the girl who was wearing the non-existent skirt. Electra, to whom the remark was addressed, giggled and said, ‘She does lack in sartorial taste although she is rather a clever little needlewoman.’
‘Do we invite our seamstresses to stay for the weekend these days?’ Sir Jasper went on. ‘It seems we do.’
The meal was made worse by the man on one side of Lizzie talking about nothing except hunting, a subject which was of no interest to Lizzie at all. But although she thought it was cruel, she didn’t have the nerve to say so.
The man on the other side said, ‘Aren’t you cold having such short hair?’
Lizzie said, ‘Aren’t you? Mine is probably a bit longer than yours is.’
‘But I’m a man, I’m used to it,’ he said.
Lizzie was annoyed with herself for swallowing all the hunting talk and had drunk quite a lot of wine by now, given what they’d had in the attic and the sherry they’d been given before dinner. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I’m a woman, and I’m used to it too!’
The man stared at her. ‘What a very rum thing to say! Never heard such nonsense!’ He turned away from her to talk to his neighbour although Lizzie knew (Vanessa had told her) that he was supposed to talk to her until they’d finished eating their chicken chasseur. All this made it doubly annoying when he put his hand on her knee. She jerked it away with all the vigour she could manage, given the lack of space under the table.
‘Just a minute!’ said Lizzie, seemingly hours later but in fact a mere thirty minutes. She was scrubbing her little brush over the block of mascara she had just moistened. ‘I want to put on a little bit more.’
Dinner had been awful but the one good thing had been the men all being keen to get the women to leave the table so they could get on with the port and the smutty stories. While the older women had gone to the drawing room, Vanessa had asked her mother if it was all right for her and her friends not to join them. Given the snatches of conversation overheard by Lizzie, Vanessa’s mother had been delighted.
‘Actually,’ Lizzie said, ‘you go down. I’ll find you.’
‘We’re in the barn – you’ll find that all right?’ said Vanessa. ‘I’d wait but people will be turning up. I should be there to greet them.’
‘We could wait with you,’ said Meg.
