It had been on impulse that she’d invited Evelyn to Clara and Courtney’s party. She would have been in attendance anyway, usually with the intention of locating and charming her next lover. Clara and Courtney’s guests were almost exclusively the lesbians of fashionable London, their hangers-on, and those who were intrigued by them. Women who loved women. The rest of the world might call them inverts and attest that they were mentally ill, but they knew otherwise and these gatherings were a celebration of that. Much though she was not a fan of being put into a neatly labelled group, it was pleasant to be in a place where she was not only accepted, but seen as one of the more interesting and desirable people in the room. It was also one of the only reliable ways to meet women who would not potentially be offended by her attentions.
Jos was nervous that Evelyn would be overwhelmed by such a Sapphic gathering. However, if she could cope with the decadence of the Yellow Orchid, a house party with a group of women was hardly something to fear. She was also very curious as to how Evelyn would respond. If she was right and there really was the spark of something like desire in Evelyn, how would being confronted with the reality of it make her feel? In some ways, Jos reflected, it was a kill or cure situation. Either Evelyn’s eyes would be opened to the possibilities, or she would be horrified and overwhelmed and Jos’s chance would be lost. She dared to hope that it would be the former. Evelyn was a strong woman with a real curiosity for the world so far beyond her experience. She had already met Clara and Courtney and would be under no illusions, surely, about the nature of the guests at the party. Besides, Evelyn had looked flattered and excited to be invited. Jos had really enjoyed the look of delight that had crossed her face.
As they walked, Evelyn looked lost in thought too. It was as though the walk from theatre to restaurant was the pause they needed, in company with each other but not talking, judging the other’s responses. The quiet between them was companionable enough but spoke of their active minds. Jos wished she could read Evelyn’s mind and know how welcome her advances would be. She knew she would have to take the initiative here, and that was not a role she was familiar with. The idea of rejection was actually quite terrifying to her.
She broke out of her reverie when, having turned onto the broad sweep of Regent Street, they arrived at the restaurant. “Here we are, this is the place I was thinking of. What do you think?” she asked Evelyn, before they went inside.
Evelyn took a step back on the pavement to look up at the sign above the door. The restaurant was named for its owner, Adalfieri de Pasqua, who had moved from Rome with his parents at the turn of the century. Jos considered him a friend and he could always find space for her in his restaurant. Jos watched as Evelyn read the name, in gold writing on a black background, and then glanced down at the windows, where there were fresh white lace curtains.
“It looks lovely,” Evelyn said. Jos was pleased. She opened the door and ushered Evelyn through in front of her.
“Jos Singleton!” The exclamation went up as soon as she passed over the threshold. Adalfieri, a tall, wiry man with thinning hair but a certain handsome quality, was beaming at her from the centre of the room. He hurried towards her. “It’s been too long, mio caro!”
“It’s only been about a fortnight, Adalfi. But it’s good to see you.” Jos submitted to a warm embrace. Once he let her go, she was aware that his attention had fallen on Evelyn, who was looking rather awkward. “Mr. Adalfieri de Pasqua, allow me to introduce Miss Evelyn Hopkins. Evie, this is Adalfi, he’s a very good friend and employs a very good chef.”
“Only the best for Jos and her friends.” Adalfieri looked at Evelyn with a knowing look in his eye. “It’s good to meet you, Miss Hopkins.”
“You too.” Evelyn smiled, although she still looked slightly uncomfortable. Perhaps it had been a mistake to bring her here and subject her to Adalfi. Somewhere anonymous might have been easier. But she wanted to share things with Evelyn, including her favourite restaurant.
“I’ve not seen you before, I don’t think.” Trust Adalfi to be nosey, Jos thought, glaring at him.
“No, I’ve not been in London long,” Evelyn replied, with the air of someone who was getting used to giving this explanation. “I’m from Devon, but I’m staying for a while. Jos has been showing me her theatre today.”
“Has she now? I’ve not had that honour myself yet.” Adalfieri raised an eyebrow in Jos’s direction.
“You’ve never asked,” Jos retorted. She loved him but wished she could tell him that today was not a good day for teasing. So he’d seen her bring other women here. This was different. “You know I’d show you around, if you wanted.”
“Of course, of course, mio caro.” Adalfieri narrowed his eyes, as if trying to discern more about the nature of Jos and Evelyn’s relationship. Well, she would fill him in later, but this was not the time.
“We’d like a table for two, please, Adalfi. What are your specials this evening?”
“Your favourite table, by the window, is free. In fact, they’re all free right now, you might notice—you’re early.” Adalfieri led them towards a small circular table with a pristine white cloth. There was a single evergreen sprig in the vase on the table, which was already set with silver cutlery. Each dark wood carved-back chair had a green cushion
