Debutantes (23 page)

‘That’s right,’ said Daisy.

‘Do you no good, old girl,’ said Justin affably. ‘No money at all for girls, you know.’

The ballroom at the Mayfair house was magnificent, thought Daisy when they went through after dinner. It was the first time that she had been in there. It was very different from the long, bare room on the top storey of Beech Grove Manor. This was a splendid and lofty apartment built on to the back of the house. It had glass walls and a glass roof and there were several small rooms leading off the central hall, including a suite of ladies’ cloakrooms, a men’s cloakroom and a caterers’ kitchen. A forest of potted palms stood around the walls interspersed with the elegant gilt chairs, carefully arranged in friendly groups of varying sizes. These would be for the chaperones and for those young ladies who were unfortunate enough not to have a partner for a dance. High above the hall was the musicians’ gallery and the sound of instruments being tuned floated down as the dinner party guests walked in through the side door that led from the dining room. Each girl, even the younger ones, linked arms with a partner and made a stately procession from the dining room until they reached the ballroom and melded into one large chattering group.

Catherine and the Duchess took their places in front of a row of potted palms and waited for the guests to arrive. Most of them would have been entertained to dinner by other hostesses, friends of the Duchess. She, in her turn, would do the same thing for their daughters’ balls. The house party chattered eagerly while waiting, each girl keen to tell what had been planned for her season. To Daisy’s appalled ears it sounded as though six months of non-stop parties, balls and other events were already arranged. It would take a fortune to do all this. Unless the Duchess sponsored Violet and allowed her a share in Catherine’s season, it would be impossible for Violet to have the same as these other girls.

Catherine was very flushed and for the first time Daisy thought that she looked pretty. I suppose she has been looking forward to this for months, if not years, she thought and was half sorry that she had not made a point of admiring the girl’s splendid dress earlier in the evening. The rich magnolia with pale pink rosebuds suited Catherine’s fair colouring and her hair was expertly dressed, though the style was a little old-fashioned.

‘Catherine looks lovely, doesn’t she?’ Daisy turned towards Paula, hoping that Catherine’s sister would pass on the compliment, but she was wasting her time, she thought, as Paula’s only response was to turn to Violet and demand loudly, ‘What are you doing for your season, Violet? You’re being very quiet.’

Every head turned at that and all eyes were fixed on Violet, who coloured up and was suddenly at a loss for words.

‘What date is your ball planned for?’ asked a girl called Sybil, while Paula whispered in the ear of another girl.

‘You are going to have a ball, aren’t you?’

‘Have you sent out the invitations?’

‘Have you had an invitation, David?’

‘No, we haven’t been asked – none of us.’ Paula’s voice was so loud that the Duchess looked across at the little group.

‘I say, everyone,’ interrupted Justin, ‘why doesn’t Daisy take a photograph of us all before the rest arrive? Come on, girls, let me get you all lined up, beauty in the front and the rest at the back. All the fellows stand in a straight line and I’ll arrange the girls at the front. If I don’t get a job in the law, then I’ll turn to flower arrangement. Stand here, Marjorie – you will be a lily, and Esmé – you’ll be a rose.’

Justin chattered on while Daisy darted across to the shelf where she had put her camera. Violet’s cheeks were flushed, she noticed when she came back, but she had been placed at the end of the line beside a quiet, shy girl who was unlikely to cross-question her. In any case, as soon as the photograph was taken, Violet took David by the arm and strolled over with him to examine one of the portraits that lined the walls.

The new arrivals swarmed in and after removing their coats in the suite of cloakrooms they came up to greet the Duchess and Catherine one by one. After this they moved to the centre of the floor and stood around chattering. Most seemed to know each other and greetings were called out and hands waved. As the line of newcomers started to grow thin and peter out, Catherine began to look uneasy. Nothing could start until Prince George arrived and there was no sign of him yet.

‘I think I’ll take some film now before they start dancing,’ Daisy said to Justin, and taking her camera from her bag she positioned herself unobtrusively by the door and began filming. After a while everyone would forget about her, but in the beginning, she had learned from the film she had taken yesterday, it was best to be at a distance.

Oh bother, she thought. I suppose that if the Prince has the first dance with Catherine I will definitely have to film that and I’ll miss my dance with Justin.

‘No sign of His Royal Highness yet, Robert,’ she murmured to the footman as he obligingly shifted a small table out of her way.

‘No, my lady,’ he whispered back. ‘Mr Curtis is walking up and down the hall, peeping out every minute.’ But as he spoke the butler came through the door, went up to the Duchess, gave a stately bow and said something.

The Duchess had stood in the one position for almost an hour without slouching or showing any signs of fatigue but at the butler’s words she stretched up to her full height, her elaborately dressed hair seeming to grow an inch nearer to the ceiling and her tiara sparkling in the light from the chandelier overhead. Catherine straightened up too.

Another footman came in at that moment and said something to Robert about it just being the photographer and journalist from
Tatler
who had arrived.

‘Trust them,’ muttered Robert. ‘They’ll be out there waiting until he gets out of the car. We’ll see His Royal Highness in a minute now,’ he said, nodding his head wisely and speaking to Daisy out of the corner of his mouth. ‘Those photographers are always just ahead of the game. They track the four young princes all around London trying to take photographs of them. You keep your camera ready, my lady. I’ll block the magazine reporters and you can get a good scoop of the Prince greeting Her Grace. Trust me.’ He slipped through the door after Mr Curtis.

And then there was a strong draught. Not just the door to the hall, but the door to the outside world was opened wide and held open. Daisy shivered with excitement. London was out there. London – full of street lights that made starlight look dim, London – full of radiance and energy, of young talent, of people who were breaking the patterns of stuffy behaviour and old-fashioned rules of conduct. She wanted to be part of it and she had only courage, a good eye, a feeling for a picture and a Kodak camera with which to achieve her dreams.

From a distance, she thought, lifting her camera to her eye.

Yes, from a distance would be good – symbolic, really. The long empty path between the Duchess and the door . . . The young royal would tread it lightly, airily, like a prince in a fairy tale. And the Duchess would greet him, introduce him to her daughter. The archetypal story of romances – the fair young girl and the handsome young prince.

And Daisy lifted her camera, ignited her flash, and as Prince George came in swiftly and charmingly, two hands outstretched, she filmed the greeting between him and the Duchess, filmed the bow to the charming daughter and the perfect curtsy that returned it, filmed the signal to the orchestra from Mr Curtis, the butler, filmed the slow start to the stately waltz, filmed the handsome perfection of a young prince who held the world in his hands, filmed him and Catherine waltzing, the expression of ecstasy on Catherine’s face. Daisy hoped that it might stand for every girl’s young dream come true. Some day, she thought, she would make another film – a prize-winning film that would demonstrate what Sir Guy called ‘a universal theme’.

And then the first dance was over.

Daisy went up to the Duchess. The look of excitement on the woman’s face touched her. ‘I think that the film will be marvellous,’ she said with sincerity. ‘I got everything. I’ll get it developed tomorrow but I’ll have to work on it at home. Don’t worry – I’ll make it good. Catherine looked lovely.’

And then she left her and went over to Justin.

‘You stood me up,’ he grumbled, but there was a smile on his face.

‘You’d do the same thing to me if it was a question of a job with a top London law firm,’ she retorted, and he laughed. She didn’t feel guilty. He had quickly got himself another partner, she had noticed. Justin with his charm, his decided profile, his handsome face, would never lack partners. Quickly she struck out the first dance and inserted his name into the second. He had booked Violet for her third dance – she remembered that.

‘All right for the second?’ she queried, showing it to him, and noticed that a photographer, accompanied by a smartly dressed young woman, was at the door, blocked by the faithful Robert while the butler went to check matters with his mistress.

In a moment the Duchess had arranged a posed photograph of Catherine and Prince George and, when that was taken, Mr Curtis and Robert, aided by the second footman, tried to remove the two from
Tatler
, who had got their photograph and a few lines for a headline. They were having problems, though, as the journalist and photographer smoothly eluded them and darted in and out of the crowd, taking photographs and noting names.

‘
Prince Dances with Young Debutante. Will the Beautiful Eighteen-Year-Old Daughter of the Duchess of Denton Be the Debutante of the Year?
’ said Rose in Daisy’s ear.

‘Hold my camera,’ Daisy started to say, and then she stiffened.

Violet was laughing with David. She was parodying children at a dancing class, dropping stiff little curtsies and looking apprehensively over their shoulders in case their teacher scolded them. It was a clever piece of acting and Daisy felt that she had underestimated her sister. Perhaps Violet could become an actress after all.

But she was not the only one watching Violet.

Prince George politely disengaged himself from the Duchess. He walked across the ballroom floor and bowed before Violet, She gave a parody of the curtsy offered by the Duchess and her daughter and he laughed. Laughed! The Prince of royal blood, fourth in line to the throne of England, threw back his head and laughed with Violet Derrington, who was wearing a second-hand dress cut down from a seventeen-year-old-gown found in an old trunk in the attic of a semi-derelict house.

And then they began to dance.

The music played a slow waltz.

Violet and Prince George danced it as if they had been dancing together for years. Cheek to cheek they drifted around the ballroom floor, moving perfectly in step with each other. Daisy looked at her camera, started to lift it, and then saw the Duchess’s face and lowered it. But the photographer from
Tatler
could not be so easily restrained. His camera clicked and clicked again as he dodged around the room, taking photographs of the Prince dancing with this unknown girl. The reporter was already eagerly cross-questioning Marjorie and scribbling frantically in a notebook. Daisy did not need Rose at her elbow to imagine the headlines in
Tatler
.

Prince Dances with Earl’s Daughter. Will Lady Violet Derrington Be the Debutante of the Year?

Daisy hardly dared to look at the Duchess’s face. How could Violet be so silly as to infuriate the woman at this stage?

‘Let’s dance,’ she said to Justin. Poppy, she noticed, was dancing with the elderly cousin – the big businessman who had said he would come to find Justin if ever he needed a lawyer. Poppy was looking bored but extremely beautiful as he exerted himself to charm her. ‘Now’s your chance,’ said Daisy as they took to the floor and she saw Justin’s eyes leave Violet for a moment. She had to distract him. ‘Now’s your chance,’ she repeated. ‘Look who Poppy’s dancing with. When this dance finishes, what could be more natural than for me to join my sister? And then you can chat up the big noise in the City while Poppy and I have a girlish gossip.’

‘About your sister and her prince,’ said Justin, but there was a gleam of interest in his eye.

‘You don’t need to make conversation with me; you can just run over points of company law in your head,’ said Daisy obligingly.

‘Stop ordering me around, young woman,’ Justin said loftily, looking down at Daisy. ‘I know you manage everyone in your family but you’re not going to manage me. I have everything to do with company law on my fingertips. When I waltz with a girl, I chat. I don’t study.’