Left alone, Rhiannon sat pushing her hair into place at the mirror. She wished very much she could look forward wholeheartedly to the coming excursion. The way Malcolm had sounded over the telephone when he invited her originally, and still more so his manner as he confirmed the arrangement at the Club the previous evening, had puzzled her, troubled her, nothing to do with his old awkwardness which had never been a problem. No, there was something, perhaps the way he had kept pausing as he talked, that had suggested to her that there might be going to be more to this half-day outing than met the eye. Still sitting, she crossed fingers on both hands.
The sound of her daughter's voice from below, duly raised in tones of unreserved triumph and admiration, got her moving again. By the time Rosemary came back to the bedroom she was in pants and bra at the dressing- table mirror putting on foundation.
'Just you think yourself lucky she didn't drop that lot up here is all I can say.'
'I will, I do. Thank you, dear.'
'Right, well now let's just take a look at this, this _suit__ we've heard so much about, shall we? Tell me, you like it yourself, do you?'
'Well, I feel nice in it.'
'M'm.' Rosemary accepted the point. 'Any ideas about shoes at a1l?'
'I thought these,' - lace-ups in the same or much the same blue denim.
There was a bit of a hiccup over the shirt, with an alternative in frilled terracotta silk considered and briefly tried on, but in the end everything went through all right and, after a final squirt of Christmas-present cologne, Rhiannon trooped off downstairs carrying her linen-look sand-coloured shoulder-bag. She wore no jewellery, just her wedding ring.
In the kitchen again Rosemary made coffee and the contents of the bag were gone over in a comparatively relaxed spirit. Compact, spare handkerchief, purse with window showing essential telephone numbers on card, toothbrush - all passed in lenient silence. But then 'What's _this__ for God's sake?' asked Rosemary, sounding at the end of her tether.
'Plastic mac. Rolled up.'
'I'm not blind, you know. _Honestly__, Mum. _Christ__. Why haven't you got an umbrella?'
'I keep losing them. Leaving them in places.'
'There are ones that fold which you clearly haven't seen, and go in your bag and don't cost the earth.'
'Well, I haven't got one.'
'M'm. I suppose there's a hat to match, is there?'
'No, there's a hood attached to the collar that hangs over my eyes. I'll wear it all through lunch if you don't look out.'
Rosemary peered into the bag. 'Funny, I can't find any wellies here.'
'You wait, I'll fetch Dad's galoshes in a minute.'
'I'd better get you my umbrella.'
'No, I'll lose it. And there's no need to treat me as if I'm fourteen years old.'
'Oh yes there is, because that's all you are. When I was that age you were much older, but now you've gone back. You are fourteen years old. Aren't you?'
'M'm,' whined Rhiannon, cringing and trotting her feet on the floor.
The telephone rang. Rosemary was there first and asked who was calling. With a face of stone she passed her mother the handset. 'Gwen.'
'Hallo Gwen.'
'Rhiannon dear, this is old _Gwen__.' These words and the way they were spoken were enough to banish expectation that any sort of genuine apology or voicing of regret might be at hand. 'Thank you for a super party. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, in fact it rather seems a bit too thoroughly towards the end and got sort of carried away. Over the top I believe you're supposed to call it nowadays. I hope it wasn't too embarrassing for you.'
'That's all right.'
'I'm afraid I do tend to get ever so slightly cross with poor dear Alun from time to time over, well what the hell is it over, I suppose you'd have to call it _Wales__ I'm sorry to say. The thing is that, you know, according to me there's a touch of the stage Welshman about him, he says so himself, fair play, but perhaps it's more than a touch - still, and he thinks I'm a dried-up schoolmarm. Well, there we are, and it's all right until I drink too fast because I'm having a good time and Alun says something to do with I don't know what and then I find I've - '
'That's all right, dear. All forgotten.'
'Well... It wasn't very seemly, I'm afraid. Turning nasty in my drink. Alun about?'
'No, he's away all day today.'
'I'll talk to him again. It really was a fantastic party. I'll ring you later.'
'Good-bye, love.'
'There's lucky you've got a fine day for your excursion now. Young Malcolm's on pins. Cheers.'
Rosemary, who after some hesitation had stayed in earshot, gave her mother what could not but be an inquiring look and got a kind of mock-doleful one back.
'She got cross about something Dad said about Wales.'
'Oh I _see__. Golly, what a terrific help. Must have cost her a bomb to come clean like that.'
