me-not.' Then Frank again hovering just behind me, another glass in his hand, lemonade this time. 'No, Frank, I'm not thirsty.'
'Why don't you dance? Or come and sit down a moment; there's a corner in the terrace.'
'No, I'm better standing. I don't want to sit down.'
'Can't I get you something, a sandwich, a peach?'
'No, I don't want anything.'
There was the salmon lady again; she forgot to smile at me this time. She was flushed after her supper. She kept looking up into her partner's face. He was very tall, very thin, he had a chin like a fiddle.
The Destiny waltz, the Blue Danube, the Merry Widow, one-two-three, one-two-three, round-and-round, one-two-three, one-two-three, round-and-round. The salmon lady, a green lady, Beatrice again, her veil pushed back off her forehead; Giles, his face streaming with perspiration, and that sailor once more, with another partner; they stopped beside me, I did not know her; she was dressed as a Tudor woman, any Tudor woman; she wore a ruffle round her throat and a black velvet dress.
'When are you coming to see us?' she said, as though we were old friends, and I answered, 'Soon of course; we were talking about it the other day,' wondering why I found it so easy to lie suddenly, no effort at all. 'Such a delightful party; I do congratulate you,' she said, and 'Thank you very much,' I said. 'It's fun, isn't it?'
'I hear they sent you the wrong dress?'
'Yes; absurd, wasn't it?'
'These shops are all the same. No depending on them. But you look delightfully fresh in that pale blue. Much more comfortable than this hot velvet. Don't forget, you must both come and dine at the Palace soon.'
'We should love to.'
What did she mean, where, what palace? Were we entertaining royalty? She swept on to the Blue Danube in the arms of the sailor, her velvet frock brushing the ground like a carpet-sweeper, and it was not until long afterwards, in the middle of some night, when I could not sleep, that I remembered the Tudor woman was the bishop's wife who liked walking in the Pennines.
What was the time? I did not know. The evening dragged on, hour after hour, the same faces and the same tunes. Now and again the bridge people crept out of the library like hermits to watch the dancers, and then returned again. Beatrice, her draperies trailing behind her, whispered in my ear.
'Why don't you sit down? You look like death.'
'I'm all right.'
Giles, the make-up running on his face, poor fellow, and stifling in his Arab blanket, came up to me and said, 'Come and watch the fireworks on the terrace.'
I remember standing on the terrace and staring up at the sky as the foolish rockets burst and fell. There was little Clarice in a corner with some boy off the estate; she was smiling happily, squealing with delight as a squib spluttered at her feet. She had forgotten her tears.
'Hullo, this will be a big 'un.' Giles, his large face upturned, his mouth open. 'Here she comes. Bravo, jolly fine show.'
The slow hiss of the rocket as it sped into the air, the burst of the explosion, the stream of little emerald stars. A murmur of approval from the crowd, cries of delight, and a clapping of hands.
The salmon lady well to the front, her face eager with expectation, a remark for every star that fell. 'Oh, what a beauty… look at that one now; I say, how pretty… Oh, that one didn't burst… take care, it's coming our way… what are those men doing over there?'… Even the hermits left their lair and came to join the dancers on the terrace. The lawns were black with people. The bursting stars shone on their upturned faces.
Again and again the rockets sped into the air like arrows, and the sky became crimson and gold. Manderley stood out like an enchanted house, every window aflame, the grey walls coloured by the falling stars. A house bewitched, carved out of the dark woods. And when the last rocket burst and the cheering died away, the night that had been fine before seemed dull and heavy in contrast, the sky became a pall. The little groups on the lawns and in the drive broke up and scattered. The guests crowded the long windows in the terrace back to the drawing-room again. It was anticlimax, the aftermath had come. We stood about with blank faces. Someone gave me a glass of champagne. I heard the sound of cars starting up in the drive.
'They're beginning to go,' I thought. 'Thank God, they're beginning to go.' The salmon lady was having some more supper. It would take time yet to clear the hall. I saw Frank make a signal to the band. I stood in the doorway between the drawing-room and the hall beside a man I did not know.
'What a wonderful party it's been,' he said.
'Yes,' I said.
'I've enjoyed every minute of it,' he said.
'I'm so glad,' I said.
'Molly was wild with fury at missing it,' he said.
'Was she?' I said.
The band began to play Auld Lang Syne. The man seized my hand and started swinging it up and down. 'Here,' he said, 'come on, some of you.' Somebody else swung my other hand, and more people joined us. We stood in a great circle singing at the top of our voices. The man who had enjoyed his evening and said Molly would be wild at missing it was dressed as a Chinese mandarin, and his false nails got caught up in his sleeve as we swung our hands up and down. He roared with laughter. We all laughed. 'Should auld acquaintance be forgot,' we sang.
The hilarious gaiety changed swiftly at the closing bars, and the drummer rattled his sticks in the inevitable prelude to God Save the King. The smiles left our faces as though wiped clean by a sponge. The Mandarin sprang to attention, his hands stiff to his sides. I remember wondering vaguely if he was in the Army. How queer he looked with his long poker face, and his drooping Mandarin moustache. I caught the salmon lady's eye. God Save the King had taken her unawares, she was still holding a plate heaped with chicken in aspic. She held it stiffly out in front of her like a church collection. All animation had gone from her face. As the last note of God Save the King died away she relaxed again, and attacked her chicken in a sort of frenzy, chattering over her shoulder to her partner. Somebody came and wrung me by the hand.
'Don't forget, you're dining with us on the fourteenth of next month.'
'Oh, are we?' I stared at him blankly.
'Yes, we've got your sister-in-law to promise too.'
'Oh. Oh, what fun.'
'Eight-thirty, and black tie. So looking forward to seeing you.'
'Yes. Yes, rather.'
People began to form up in queues to say goodbye. Maxim was at the other side of the room. I put on my smile again, which had worn thin after Auld Lang Syne.
'The best evening I've spent for a long time.'.
'I'm so glad.'
'Many thanks for a grand party.'
'I'm so glad.'
'Here we are, you see, staying to the bitter end.'
'Yes, I'm so glad.'
Was there no other sentence in the English language? I bowed and smiled like a dummy, my eyes searching for Maxim above their heads. He was caught up in a knot of people by the library. Beatrice too was surrounded, and Giles had led a team of stragglers to the buffet table in the drawing-room. Frank was out in the drive seeing that people got their cars. I was hemmed in by strangers.
'Goodbye, and thanks tremendously.'
'I'm so glad.'
The great hall began to empty. Already it wore that drab deserted air of a vanished evening and the dawn of a tired day.
There was a grey light on the terrace, I could see the shapes of the blown firework stands taking form on the lawns.
'Goodbye; a wonderful party.'
'I'm so glad.'
Maxim had gone out to join Frank in the drive. Beatrice came up to me, pulling off her jangling bracelet. 'I
