But she wasn’t fooled. She’d glanced up just in time to see his expression in the split second before the mask came down, and she’d never seen such devastation in any man’s face. He actually seemed to wither, mouth growing pinched, eyes closing as if to shut out intolerable pain. The next moment he opened them again and smiled. But the smile only touched his mouth. His eyes were blank.
‘She just vanished without a goodbye,’ he whispered.
‘Mark, I’m so sorry,’ she whispered.
He raised his head. His face was set. ‘Sorry? What for? Sylvia has the right to do as she pleases. We weren’t engaged or anything like that.’
‘But to do it like this-’
‘Not very polite, but if she wants to be with him-’ His voice shook and for a moment he shuddered uncontrollably.
‘Dee, are you coming back in?’ It was her mother’s voice, approaching.
Swiftly, Mark put the letter into his pocket.
‘Say nothing until the party’s over,’ he said.
He was right. She wilted at the thought of telling her parents about this. Their eyes met and they each took a deep breath before heading back into the house.
Someone had brought a gramophone and a collection of dance records, which mercifully made talk impossible for some time. But there was no hiding the way people looked at Mark, or the almost tangible curiosity about Sylvia’s absence.
And how they would laugh, she thought angrily. Mark’s popularity had always contained a touch of jealousy, even spite. Every girl who’d yearned for him, every young man who’d envied him, would relish seeing him undermined now.
A fierce desire to protect him made her grasp his hand, saying, ‘Dance with me, Mark. It’s my birthday, and I get to choose.’
He seized her with what might have been eagerness, but she sensed mainly relief that with her he could briefly drop the bright mask.
‘Ignore that,’ she told him. ‘The fact is, you knew Sylvia wasn’t going to be here, and you’re completely relaxed about it.’
‘Am I?’
‘All you can think about now is enjoying yourself with me,’ she persisted, meeting his eyes urgently and trying to convey her message. ‘Hold me close and look deep into my eyes, as though I was all you cared about in the world.’
He nodded, understanding and following her lead with a good deal of skill. The house was tiny and ‘dancing’ consisted mainly of taking small steps from side to side, but that, too, was useful, because their ‘audience’ had a close-up view of the performance.
‘Smile,’ she whispered, favouring him with a dazzling smile of her own. ‘Pretend I’m Sylvia.’
He managed to stretch his lips, although his eyes were still blank. Dee raised her head so that her mouth was closer to his, not kissing, but conveying the impression that she would kiss him if they were alone.
Suddenly she clutched her head and said, ‘Oh, I’ve got such a headache.’
‘It’s getting late,’ Helen said. ‘It’s been a nice evening, but-’
Obediently, everyone began to drift off. It wasn’t really late at all, but everyone knew ‘something was up’.
‘Shame Sylvia couldn’t make it,’ someone murmured. ‘I wonder what kept her.’
There were several curious looks at Mark, then everyone was gone.
‘Right, what is it?’ Helen demanded, looking from one to the other. ‘What are you two keeping a secret?’
‘Sylvia’s gone away, Mum,’ Dee said. ‘She left a letter.’
Mark handed it over and Helen read it, her face becoming like stone.
‘She’s with a man,’ she said harshly. ‘My daughter’s a bad girl?’ She glared at Mark. ‘What do you know about this? Why didn’t you stop her?’
‘Because I didn’t know.’
‘You’re supposed to have been courting her all this time. Why didn’t you protect her?’
Dee forced herself to be silent. She longed to cry out that someone should have protected Mark from Sylvia’s treachery, but he would have hated that. She contented herself with saying, ‘Why don’t you save your anger for Phil?’
‘Just who is he?’ Helen demanded.
‘I think I saw him once, when I went to collect her from the shop,’ Mark said. ‘They were giggling together. We had a row about it.’
Suddenly Helen burst into sobs. Dee moved towards her, but her father appeared from the doorway where he’d been hovering and signalled for them to go. She left them in each other’s arms, while she and Mark went out into the garden.
Once outside, Mark leaned against the wall, dazed like a man in a nightmare.
‘We can’t just leave it there,’ he said. ‘I have to find her, but I don’t know how.’
‘She said she was already far away,’ Dee recalled. ‘They’ll probably know more at the shop. It’s my half-day tomorrow. I’ll go over and see what I can find out.’
‘Shall I come with you?’ he asked quietly.
She knew what it cost him to make the suggestion, for she felt everything with him: the pain of revealing himself as the rejected one, the shame of admitting how he’d been deceived, the awareness of smothered grins. Her heart ached for him.
‘It’s best if I go alone,’ she assured him. ‘They’ll talk more freely to me.’
‘Thank you.’ That was all he said, but she knew he’d divined her understanding and was grateful.
She went to the shop the next day and returned home that evening with a heavy heart.
‘They all know Phil,’ she said. ‘He’s the rep for a clothing firm so he was in and out quite a lot, and they got to know each other.’
‘But why did they run away?’ Helen asked wretchedly. ‘Why not just get married?’
‘They can’t,’ Dee said reluctantly. ‘It seems that Phil is already married.’
Helen gave a little scream and covered her face. Joe grew pale and said, ‘I don’t believe it. A married man, and she’s living with him. She wouldn’t do anything so wicked.’
‘I’m afraid it’s true,’ Dee said. ‘His wife was in the shop when I arrived. She’d come looking for him. They have two children and he seems to have just left them all.’
She was giving them only half the story, but there was no way she could tell them about the other things she’d learned-about Sylvia’s reputation as a minx who routinely flirted with any man, and perhaps more. His abandoned wife had gone further, calling Sylvia a prostitute, but this, too, she would always keep to herself.
At last Helen dropped her hands and lifted her head. Her face was hard. ‘She’s no daughter of mine,’ she said. ‘As far as I’m concerned, she’s dead.’
‘Mum!’ Dee protested.
‘She never sets foot in this house again. She’s not my daughter.’
Dee turned to her father.
‘I don’t know,’ he said helplessly. ‘Perhaps your mother knows best. Sylvia has put us out of her life.’
‘But maybe she’ll need our help.’
‘She’s dead to me,’ Helen said stonily. She rose and kissed Dee’s cheek. ‘You are my only daughter now. Remember that.’
She stalked out of the room, followed by Joe.
‘I’m going out,’ Mark said. ‘I need to get drunk.’
‘Let me come with you. We’ll get drunk together.’
She had no intention of drinking, but she wasn’t going to turn him loose upon the world in his present state. Taking him firmly by the hand, she led him out of the house. She, too, was in shock, but she’d had time to think about things on the way home. Mark was still stunned. When he spoke, it was in short, jerky sentences.
