‘Stop it!’ May protested. ‘You’re just making this up.’
They stopped, having teased May enough. ‘I’m bored,’ said Lindy. ‘What shall we do?’
An imp of mischief seized Daisy, and she said: ‘Let’s come down to dinner in men’s clothes.’
She regretted it immediately. A stunt like that could ruin her social career when it had only just got started.
Eva’s German sense of propriety was upset. ‘Daisy, you don’t mean it!’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Silly notion.’
The twins had their mother’s fine blonde hair, not their father’s dark curls, but they had inherited his streak of naughtiness, and they both loved the idea. ‘They’ll all be in tailcoats tonight, so we can steal their dinner jackets,’ said Lindy.
‘Yes!’ said her twin. ‘We’ll do it while they’re having tea.’
Daisy saw that it was too late to back out.
May Murray said: ‘We couldn’t go to the ball like that!’ The whole party was to attend the Trinity Ball after dinner.
‘We’ll change again before leaving,’ said Lizzie.
May was a timid creature, probably cowed by her military father, and she always went along with whatever the other girls decided. Eva as the only dissident was overruled, and the plan went ahead.
When the time came to dress for dinner, a maid brought two evening suits into the bedroom Daisy was sharing with Eva. The maid’s name was Ruby. Yesterday she had been miserable with toothache, so Daisy had given her the money for a dentist, and she had had the tooth pulled out. Now Ruby was bright-eyed with excitement, toothache forgotten. ‘Here you are, ladies!’ she said. ‘Sir Bartholomew’s should be small enough for you, Miss Peshkov, and Mr Andrew Fitzherbert’s for Miss Rothmann.’
Daisy took off her dress and put on the shirt. Ruby helped her with the unfamiliar studs and cufflinks. Then she climbed into Bing Westhampton’s trousers, black with a satin stripe. She tucked her slip in and pulled the suspenders over her shoulders. She felt a bit daring as she buttoned the fly.
None of the girls knew how to knot a tie, so the results were distinctly limp. But Daisy came up with the winning touch. Using an eyebrow pencil, she gave herself a moustache. ‘It’s marvellous!’ said Eva. ‘You look even prettier!’ Daisy drew side-whiskers on Eva’s cheeks.
The five girls met up in the twins’ bedroom. Daisy walked in with a mannish swagger that made the others giggle hysterically.
May voiced the concern that remained in the back of Daisy’s mind. ‘I hope we’re not going to get into trouble over this.’
Lindy said: ‘Oh, who cares if we do?’
Daisy decided to forget her misgivings and enjoy herself, and she led the way down to the drawing room.
They were the first to arrive, and the room was empty. Repeating something she had heard Boy Fitzherbert say to the butler, Daisy put on a man’s voice and drawled: ‘Pour me a whisky, Grimshaw, there’s a good chap – this champagne tastes like piss.’ The others squealed with shocked laughter.
Bing and Fitz came in together. Bing in his white waistcoat made Daisy think of a pied wagtail, a cheeky black-and-white bird. Fitz was a good-looking middle-aged man, his dark hair touched with grey. As a result of war wounds he walked with a slight limp, and one eyelid drooped; but this evidence of his courage in battle only made him more dashing.
Fitz saw the girls, looked twice, and said: ‘Good God!’ His tone was sternly disapproving.
Daisy suffered a moment of sheer panic. Had she spoiled everything? The English could be frightfully straight- laced, everyone knew that. Would she be asked to leave the house? How terrible that would be. Dot Renshaw and Nora Farquharson would crow if she went home in disgrace. She would rather die.
But Bing burst out laughing. ‘I say, that’s terribly good,’ he said. ‘Look at this, Grimshaw.’
The elderly butler, coming in with a bottle of champagne in a silver ice bucket, observed them bleakly. In a tone of withering insincerity he said: ‘Most amusing, Sir Bartholomew.’
Bing continued to regard them all with a delight mingled with lasciviousness, and Daisy realized – too late – that dressing like the opposite sex might misleadingly suggest, to some men, a degree of sexual freedom and a willingness to experiment – a suggestion that could obviously lead to trouble.
As the party assembled for dinner, most of the other guests followed the lead of their host in treating the girls’ prank as an amusing piece of tomfoolery, though Daisy could tell that they were not all equally charmed. Daisy’s mother went pale with fright when she saw them, and sat down quickly as if she felt shaky. Princess Bea, a heavily corseted woman in her forties who might once have been pretty, wrinkled her powdered brow in a censorious frown. But Lady Westhampton was a jolly woman who reacted to life, as to her wayward husband, with a tolerant smile: she laughed heartily and congratulated Daisy on her moustache.
The boys, coming last, were also delighted. General Murray’s son, Lieutenant Jimmy Murray, not as straight- laced as his father, roared with pleased laughter. The Fitzherbert sons, Boy and Andy, came in together, and it was Boy’s reaction that was the most interesting of all. He stared at the girls with mesmeric fascination. He tried to cover up with jollity, haw-hawing like the other men, but it was clear he was weirdly captivated.
At dinner the twins picked up Daisy’s joke and talked like men, in deep voices and hearty tones, making the others laugh. Lindy held up her wine glass and said: ‘How do you like this
