Page 49 of The Sun Sister

‘Cecily, honey, what on earth are you doing lying there on your bed? We’re leaving for the party in half an hour.’

‘I’m not coming, Mama. I told you that at lunch.’

‘And I told you that you absolutely were. Do you want everyone who is anyone in Manhattan gossiping about the fact that you didn’t show up tonight?’

‘I don’t give a fig for gossip, Mama. Besides, I’m sure they have more interesting things to talk about than me and my broken engagement.’ Cecily Huntley-Morgan cast her eyes back toThe Great Gatsbyand continued to read.

‘Well,youmight not care, missy, but I wouldn’t want the indignity of everyone thinking that my daughter was hiding away at home on New Year’s Eve because she was heartbroken.’

‘But, Mama, Iamhiding away on New Year’s Eve. And Iamheartbroken.’

‘Here, drink this.’

Dorothea Huntley-Morgan proffered her daughter a champagne flute filled to the brim. ‘Let’s toast in the New Year together, but you have to promise me you’ll take it down in one, okay?’

‘I’m not in the mood for it, Mama—’

‘That is simply not the point, honey. Everyone drinks champagne on New Year’s Eve, whether or not they are in the mood for it. Ready?’ Dorothea raised her own glass encouragingly.

‘If you promise you’ll leave me alone afterwards.’

‘Here’s to 1939 and new beginnings!’

Dorothea chinked her glass against her daughter’s.

Reluctantly, Cecily drank down the contents of the glass as her mother had asked. The fizz made her feel nauseated – probably because she hadn’t eaten anything more than the odd spoonful of soup for the past four days.

‘I just know it will be one, if youletit be so.’

Cecily allowed herself to be embraced in a bosomy hug and, from the smell of her mother’s breath, knew that it wasn’t the first alcoholic beverage she’d downed that afternoon. And it was all because of her: Jack Hamblin had broken off their brief engagement two days before Christmas, while her family had been gathered for the festive season at their house in the Hamptons. She and Jack had known each other from childhood, his family owning one of the neighbouring estates in Westhampton. They had summered together and Cecily couldn’t remember a time when she had not been in love with him. Even when he’d told her on the beach at the age of six that he’d brought her a present, then handed her a crab that had immediately bitten her finger and made it bleed all over her bathing suit. But she had not let him see her cry then, and almost seventeen years on, neither had she cried when he’d told her he couldn’t marry her because he loved somebody else.

She’d heard rumours about Patricia Ogden-Forbes – who hadn’t in New York society? A Chicago heiress, the only daughter of a hugely wealthy family, her beauty had been the talk of the town since she’d appeared in Manhattan for the Christmas season. Jack – who Dorothea never tired of reminding her and anyone else who cared to listen was a distant relative of the Vanderbilts – had apparently taken one look at Miss Ogden-Forbes and all bets had been off. Including his forthcoming nuptials with Cecily.

‘Remember, honey, Patricia has no breeding,’ her mother whispered breathily in her ear. ‘When it comes down to it, she’s a meatpacker’s daughter.’

And you’re the daughter of a toothpaste manufacturer,Cecily thought but didn’t say.

It was something she’d often pondered – that the so-called High Society in America was made up of tradespeople and bankers. Nobility had been bestowed on the families with the largest fortunes, rather than those with the bluest blood. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but unlike Europe there were no lords or dukes or princes here in the Land of the Free.

‘Won’t you come to the party, Cecily? Only for an hour or so if you can’t face it for longer,’ Dorothea begged her.

‘Maybe. Butshe’llbe there, Mama, with him.’

‘I know, honey, but you’re a Morgan, and we Morgans are brave and strong and face our enemies!’ Dorothea tipped her daughter’s chin up to meet her eyes. ‘You can do this, I know you can. I’ve had Evelyn steam your green satin gown and I’m going to lend you my mother’s Cartier necklace. You’ll be a sensation – and who knows who might be there in that ballroom, just waiting for you.’

Cecily knew that whatwaswaiting for her was humiliation, as her ex-fiancé paraded his rich Chicago beauty around the Waldorf Astoria ballroom in front of the crème de la crème of New York society. But her mother was right: she may be many things, but she wasn’t a coward.

‘Okay, Mama,’ she sighed. ‘You win.’

‘That’s my girl! I’ll get Evelyn to bring in your gown, sort out your hair and run you a bath. You smell less than fragrant, honey.’

‘Gee, thanks, Mama,’ Cecily shrugged. ‘I’ll need some more champagne,’ she called as Dorothea left the bedroom. ‘Buckets of it!’ Then she grimaced as she put her bookmark inThe Great Gatsby, shaking her head at this ridiculous notion that love – and a big mansion – could conquer everything.

Cecily had both. And she knew it couldn’t.

The good news was that the ballroom of the Waldorf Astoria was so vast it felt like you had to walk the Oregon Trail to get to the other side. A dazzling chandelier hung from the high recessed ceiling, and lights glittered in the balconies that ringed the room. The murmur of conversation and laughter was muted by the plush red carpet, and musicians were tuning up on a bandstand that had been constructed at one end of the room, with a gleaming parquet dance floor in front of it. The adjacent dining tables were immaculately set with fine linen, bone china, sparkling crystal and ornate flower arrangements. A waiter appeared at her side with a tray of champagne flutes and Cecily grasped one in her sweating palm.

Everyone who was anyone in New York was there, of course.The jewels on the women alone could surely buy a country big enough to house the hundreds of thousands of poor in this great nation, Cecily thought as she found her place card at one of the tables and sat down. She was glad she was facing a wall rather than staring into the abyss of wealth and imminent humiliation behind her, and trying, even though she knew she shouldn’t, to spot Jack and Patricia...