Page 93 of An Invitation to the Kennedys

‘Who cares?The servants can put it right when we get back to the house.’

But he wouldn’t, insisting on everything in its rightful place, until Brigid handed him his jacket back in fury and went to sit in the maroon-coloured Rolls Royce with Kick, saying, ‘No room, you’ll have to ride in the other car,’ when he tried to join them.

‘But there are more people in the other car …’ he said, momentarily confused.

‘No room,’ she said again and shut the door.

‘My mother won’t allow the windows down.He’ll be like a dog, desperate for air,’ Kick said.She rolled her window right down.‘But I think you’re being pretty hard on him.’

‘Did you see how he fussed over the butter tin?As though it haddiamondsor something in it.’

‘He’s meticulous, that’s all.’

‘Fussy.’Her early sympathy for him was gone, she found.Probably he had just made all that stuff up, about being surrounded and watched.‘What shall we do when we get back?There’ll be heaps of time before dinner.’

‘I’ll teach you to dance the Big Apple.It’s harder than it looks and you need a lot of people to do it right, because you have to make a big circle, but I can show you the steps.You and Fritzi can dance together.’

‘If he can dance,’ Brigid said.‘I hate a man who can’t dance.’

‘We’ll ask him.’

Chapter Forty-Six

Honor

‘Darling.’Chips said the word with impatience.‘I must have a word.’

He had tracked her to the small drawing room.Honor had chosen it because it was out of the way and might, she hoped, be overlooked.It was only half finished, Chips had said – meaning that there were only half the number of curios and objects and cushions that he would usually favour.Through the windows she could see down to the pool, empty now, a flat rectangle of blue in the sea of green grass.In any case, it wasn’t out of the way enough because here was Chips, sounding peevish.‘Elizabeth was seen cycling to the village on one of the maid’s bicycles.Wobbling dangerously all over the road,’ he said.

‘Yes, she said the front wheel wasn’t straight.’

‘Once in the village, she shoved the bicycle against a wall and made straight for the pub.Walked in and ordered a Tom Collins.’

‘Oh dear.How naughty she is.Were they very upset?’

‘Yes, very.She refused to sit in the ladies’ lounge—’

‘One can hardly blame her.I doubt any but sheepdogs have been in there in years.’

‘Maybe, but Thompson said some of the regulars were quite up in arms.Wanted her removed from the pub and, when Thompson said he could hardly do that, left themselves.Now I shall have to go down there and buy them all a drink, or they’ll tell everyone they meet that we are a group of London degenerates.’

‘And then, come election time, no one will vote for you,’ Honor said wryly.

‘It’s not that.Well, a little, but really, she is too bad.Why can’t she stay put?’

‘She says she’s bored.’

‘Well, she shouldn’t have come.’

‘Certainly.But now she has, perhaps we could have a party?Invite the Blounts, their house party, a few of the neighbours.’

‘I’ll think about it.But you must talk to her.’

‘There she is now.I’ll tell her.’Honor went and rapped on the window and, when Elizabeth turned towards the sound, beckoned her over, unlatching the door and holding it open for her.‘Darling, you really mustn’t be upsetting the poor regulars in Mr Thompson’s pub,’ she said when Elizabeth was in.

‘They were sweet,’ Elizabeth said vaguely, perching on the edge of the sofa.‘Kept insisting I’d be more comfortable in the ladies’ lounge.Dreadful pokey place.I think the landlord keeps pigeons in there.There seemed to be a great deal of birdseed.In any case, I assured them I’d much rather the bar, and we all had a perfectly jolly chat.’

‘No you didn’t, they didn’t want you there at all,’ said Chips.