long tables were in place, covered in gold cloths, empty as yet, but soon to be filled with all the delights from Fortnum and Mason and with the ranks of champagne bottles: all the food that they had dreamed up between them, even including Squashy’s favourite lemonade and a bone for Barky.
Simon was obviously testing the electrics, for even as she stood there the lights went out and the cascades fell quiet and the eerie silence of the grotto’s normal demeanour took over, broken only by distant birdsong from outside. Lily stood absorbing the space and the astonishing sight that had quite overwhelmed her. For several moments she felt she was not in the real world at all, and then the usual echoes of cheerful birdsong filtered in along the corridor and she followed the familiar sound until it led her to the bright landing where the water lapped softly against the stones: out in the everyday again.
Then she laughed, enchanted by her visit, amazed by her own surprise, that she had never envisaged the finished product all the while she had worked there with the boys. She sat then on the stones, kicking off her lovely sandals as her feet dipped into the water, and let herself enjoy the moment. Never in her life had something so sweet and lovely appeared to her. In quite a different department from the parachutejump, it was just as valuable: a memory to be stored for the future, to recall when things got bleak. For her future was not bright, she knew. Like Antony she put off thinking about it.
It was so quiet here now, on the familiar spot where they so often played. Tonight the boats would land here, one by one, bringing the guests from the far shore, and Squashy was going to help Cedric take the empty boats away and park them. He was very at home on the water and with the boats and it would keep him nicely occupied. Helena was going to arrive with an escort, in the best punt, which Lily had seen cushioned and padded and made to look like a royal barge. Antony and Simon were going to punt her, and then change to rowing nearer the grotto where the water became deep. Lily had been told to be ready to receive her and help her disembark. ‘Nothing must go wrong,’ Antony had said several times. ‘It must all be perfect for her.’
While Lily sat there, she saw Antony come roaring down the airfield in his father’s Rolls-Royce with a full complement of friends arranged over the seats and the bonnet. He was going to take them up one by one for what he called a spin, and Lily decided to disappear, to nurse her happy thoughts back home where she needed to spend time working out what she was going to wear. Her wardrobe was so hopeless it wouldn’t take long. If only she had thought ahead and arranged something with the few girls in the village she still called her friends! But too late now, even if she could be bothered. Thank goodness it was going to be very hot, so her mother’s nicestsummer dress would do. And Squashy must have a clean shirt if she could find one.
Her father was working on their own vegetable patch behind the cottage, complaining that there was no getting to work at the big house for all the idiots roaming over the place. Honest as he was, Lily had noticed that he had not worked quite so hard since Mr Sylvester had departed. Antony was taxiing out with his first volunteer and shouting and laughing echoed across the lake from the gathering guests outside the house. Lily lay on the bed to think about things, and fell fast asleep.
The party was not to start until dusk.
12
Rose and Violet were thrilled at Antony’s request to bring Helena out, looking her most beautiful, for the admiration of all his friends.
‘Our little duck, she will love this! She knows, doesn’t she, that something is going on? She senses it. See her face, all alight – oh, what a beautiful evening for her, and those beautiful lights across the lawn! She will feel it even if she cannot see it, how she will love it!’
Helena did
Simon was obviously testing the electrics, for even as she stood there the lights went out and the cascades fell quiet and the eerie silence of the grotto’s normal demeanour took over, broken only by distant birdsong from outside. Lily stood absorbing the space and the astonishing sight that had quite overwhelmed her. For several moments she felt she was not in the real world at all, and then the usual echoes of cheerful birdsong filtered in along the corridor and she followed the familiar sound until it led her to the bright landing where the water lapped softly against the stones: out in the everyday again.
Then she laughed, enchanted by her visit, amazed by her own surprise, that she had never envisaged the finished product all the while she had worked there with the boys. She sat then on the stones, kicking off her lovely sandals as her feet dipped into the water, and let herself enjoy the moment. Never in her life had something so sweet and lovely appeared to her. In quite a different department from the parachutejump, it was just as valuable: a memory to be stored for the future, to recall when things got bleak. For her future was not bright, she knew. Like Antony she put off thinking about it.
It was so quiet here now, on the familiar spot where they so often played. Tonight the boats would land here, one by one, bringing the guests from the far shore, and Squashy was going to help Cedric take the empty boats away and park them. He was very at home on the water and with the boats and it would keep him nicely occupied. Helena was going to arrive with an escort, in the best punt, which Lily had seen cushioned and padded and made to look like a royal barge. Antony and Simon were going to punt her, and then change to rowing nearer the grotto where the water became deep. Lily had been told to be ready to receive her and help her disembark. ‘Nothing must go wrong,’ Antony had said several times. ‘It must all be perfect for her.’
While Lily sat there, she saw Antony come roaring down the airfield in his father’s Rolls-Royce with a full complement of friends arranged over the seats and the bonnet. He was going to take them up one by one for what he called a spin, and Lily decided to disappear, to nurse her happy thoughts back home where she needed to spend time working out what she was going to wear. Her wardrobe was so hopeless it wouldn’t take long. If only she had thought ahead and arranged something with the few girls in the village she still called her friends! But too late now, even if she could be bothered. Thank goodness it was going to be very hot, so her mother’s nicestsummer dress would do. And Squashy must have a clean shirt if she could find one.
Her father was working on their own vegetable patch behind the cottage, complaining that there was no getting to work at the big house for all the idiots roaming over the place. Honest as he was, Lily had noticed that he had not worked quite so hard since Mr Sylvester had departed. Antony was taxiing out with his first volunteer and shouting and laughing echoed across the lake from the gathering guests outside the house. Lily lay on the bed to think about things, and fell fast asleep.
The party was not to start until dusk.
12
Rose and Violet were thrilled at Antony’s request to bring Helena out, looking her most beautiful, for the admiration of all his friends.
‘Our little duck, she will love this! She knows, doesn’t she, that something is going on? She senses it. See her face, all alight – oh, what a beautiful evening for her, and those beautiful lights across the lawn! She will feel it even if she cannot see it, how she will love it!’
Helena did
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