“I’m not a scotch drinker,” she replied to Clara. “So what do you recommend?”
Clara grinned. “Dangerous tactics, Evelyn.”
“Now, Clara, I didn’t bring Evelyn here to be corrupted by you,” Jos said.
“Oh, how dreadfully disappointing,” Clara replied, with a wink at Evelyn.
“I don’t think Courtney would approve of you corrupting anyone except her,” Jos pointed out, as Courtney crossed the room to join them.
“Are you talking about me? Should my ears be burning?”
“Talking about me, not you, sweetest.” Clara wrapped an arm around Courtney’s shoulders.
“We were discussing Clara’s corrupting influence, actually,” Jos said.
“Oh, well, then I’m the prime example. I was such an innocent before I met her.”
“Don’t believe a word of it,” Clara said to Evelyn. “It was she who seduced me. Although, of course, I’m only in it for the money.”
“If it’s only the money, you’re welcome to sleep on the settee tonight,” Courtney said, pretending to look offended.
“Perhaps it’s a little more than the money,” Clara conceded. “She is rather a doll, don’t you think?”
“Everyone loves me,” Courtney said with a bright, insouciant smile. “And now that’s established, here’s your scotch, Jos. Evelyn, can I recommend the gin? With ice, of course, tonic if you want.”
“That would be lovely, thank you,” Evelyn replied. She’d enjoyed being part of another conversation with Clara and Courtney, who seemed to take nothing too seriously and yet to live a fascinating life.
She watched as Courtney went towards the drinks table again, admiring her black and gold dress, fringed all around the bottom. Courtney’s clothes always seemed to fit her to perfection, but Evelyn did not feel any pressure to live up to her standards of fashion, not in the way she did when Lilian looked her up and down. She glanced at Clara, whose Eton-cropped hair was immaculate as ever and who was attired in a striped sports jacket. They were such a striking couple, it really was quite hard not to stare.
However, she was also increasingly aware of the other women in the room, still looking at her curiously.
Eventually, one of them called to Jos, “So, Jos, aren’t you going to introduce us?”
The woman who had spoken was more plainly dressed, in a simple blue dress. Her hair was in a short bob and she wore no make-up. So not everyone in this world was fashionable or unconventional, Evelyn thought.
“Of course I am, Catherine. Give a woman a moment to enjoy her first scotch of the day, won’t you?” Jos sipped her drink.
“No, I won’t. You can’t leave the poor thing just standing there, with us all looking at her.”
“All right, settle down.” Jos glanced briefly around the room. “Ladies, this is Miss Evelyn Hopkins, she’s new in London, and we met at my brother’s questionable establishment. I’ve been showing her backstage at the theatre today and I thought it would be nice for her to meet you all. So play nicely.”
“We always do,” Courtney said.
“Except when we don’t,” Clara added, nudging Evelyn with her elbow and winking. Evelyn giggled and waited for the second half of the introduction.
“Evie, you’ll never remember their names, but here in the room we have Catherine Wakefield.”
Evie nodded to the woman who had demanded the introduction. Next to her on the settee sat a woman in a rather austere blouse, with short, straight dark blond hair.
“That’s Stevie Robertson. Across from her are Gisela Blumstein and Abigail Blessing-Cooper.” The two women, seated in separate chairs but close to each other, smiled at Evelyn. Gisela was a very slim dark-haired woman who wore a bright red dress and seemed the most likely of the gathering to compete with Courtney in terms of style. Abigail was a rather plump young woman, whose long platinum-blond hair was tied into a long plait which hung down over her shoulder. She wore a masculine black tuxedo, but it did not fit as well as Clara’s and gave her a slightly ramshackle appearance.
Jos went on with her introductions. “The triumvirate on the chaise longue there are Lottie Green, Irene Jacobs, and Ronnie Mackenzie.”
Evelyn smiled and realised she had no chance of remembering these women’s names at all, just as Jos predicted. She barely had time to make brief eye contact with each of them. Lottie had bright ginger hair styled into ringlets and very pale skin. Irene had a very aquiline face and was wearing a vivid green dress. Ronnie was a little older, her dark brown hair beginning to grey. She wore loose trousers and sat with her right hand holding Irene’s left.
Jos went on. “Helping herself to the best scotch is Suzanne Flint. Next to her is her sister Sarah. And last but not least, this is Caro Booth. I think that’s all of them.” Suzanne and Sarah were both tall and long limbed, with light brown hair, Suzanne’s short and Sarah’s worn pinned onto the top of her head. Caro wore an embroidered cap that covered most of her auburn curls, and her most memorable feature was a face liberally sprinkled with freckles.
Evelyn took a deep breath and looked around the room again. “It’s good to meet all of you. Jos is right, I can’t remember a single name, so do forgive me. Hopefully I’ll remember by the end of the night.”
“And if you don’t, lass, we won’t be offended.” This was Ronnie, who spoke with a Scottish lilt in her voice. “There’s no standing on ceremony here. Just a likeminded gathering and plenty to drink.”
“Then might I suggest we start drinking?” This was Clara, who raised her glass to toast the room. “To new friends and a long night to enjoy them!”
“New friends!” was returned by most of the women in the room, who raised
