wore the green with the gold chain, and when she went downstairs it was a relief to find that Mrs Duvant was wearing a plain wool dress, and although Jake had changed, the suit he had on was a conservative grey. She had to admit that it fitted him very well. So it should, considering what it had cost to have it made.
Dinner had a slightly festive air, partly due to the champagne Jake had brought with him, and partly owing to Mrs Duvant’s high spirits. She was such a happy person it was impossible to be ill-tempered or miserable in her company.
They set off for the Assembly Rooms presently, in the best of spirits, driving through the rain-swept streets in Jake’s Bentley, Mrs Duvant beside him wrapped in mink, and Annis behind, in her elderly winter coat. She was enjoying herself so much that she had quite forgotten that.
They sat with Mrs Duvant in between them and listened to the excellent orchestra, and later when the singer appeared, and turned out to be not only a very pretty woman but with a glorious voice, Annis couldn’t stop herself from turning a little and peeping at Jake. He wasn’t looking at the singer at all, but at her. He smiled before he looked away, leaving her with the feeling that although she didn’t like him, she was becoming very aware of his charm.
When the concert was over they had a drink before going back to the house and she was nonplussed to find his manner towards her casual to the point of coolness; she must have imagined the warmth of that smile, and anyway, she told herself peevishly, why was she getting all worked up about it? She couldn’t care less what he thought of her.
When they got back she waited merely to ask Mrs Duvant if she needed her for anything before saying goodnight and going to her room. It had been a lovely evening, she told Mrs Duvant, and she had enjoyed herself very much. Her goodnight to Jake was brisk and delivered to his chin, since she wanted to avoid looking at him.
It would be a pity, she thought as she undressed, if he were to upset the gentle pattern of their days, but since he was to stay only a short time, that didn’t really matter. She dismissed him from her thoughts and went to sleep, to dream, most infuriatingly, of him all night.
Mrs Duvant wasn’t at breakfast the next morning, but Jake was. He was at table, reading the paper and making great inroads into eggs and bacon when Annis went down at her usual time. He got to his feet, wished her a friendly good morning, hoped that she had slept well, passed her the coffee pot and resumed his breakfast. Only good manners, she felt, prevented him from picking up his newspaper again.
Instead he carried on a desultory conversation, just sufficient to put her at her ease. Indeed, by the time their meal was finished, she found herself talking to him with something which amounted to pleasure.
‘Aunt Dora wants to visit the American Museum this morning,’ he told her as they left the room together. ‘There’s some embroidery exhibited there she intends to study. You’ll be coming?’ His voice was nicely casual.
‘I expect so, Mrs Duvant likes someone with her, but perhaps if you’re going there…’
He gave her a glance full of amused mockery. ‘My dear Annis, I know absolutely nothing about embroidery.’
She left him in the hall, wishing as she went upstairs that he was as nice as he had been at breakfast all the time, and not just when he felt like it. The way he looked at her with that horrid half-smile… She bounced into her room, dragged a comb ruthlessly through her hair, which didn’t need it anyway, and went along to see how Mrs Duvant did. If it were possible, she would see if she could get out of going out that morning.
It wasn’t possible. Mrs Duvant was so enthusiastic about the outing, pointing out how useful Annis was going to be, although Annis couldn’t quite see why, that she didn’t even suggest it. And as it turned out, Jake was charming, and once they got to the embroidery exhibition, wandered off on his own, leaving Mrs Duvant to exclaim over feather-stitching, smocking and the like while she made Annis write down a variety of notes which she thought might be useful to her later on.
It was during lunch that Jake observed that he would have to go back to London in two days’ time. Annis was shocked at the keen disappointment she felt when he said it; she couldn’t stand the sight of him—well, for most of the time anyway, but she would miss him. Which made it all the stranger that she hesitated about going downstairs again after she had tucked Mrs Duvant up for her post-prandial nap. But as she left Mrs Duvant’s room she saw Jake disappearing out of the front door. She would be able to go downstairs and read by the fire in the small sitting room; she didn’t want him to think that she was avoiding his company—that was if he thought about it at all, nor did she wish to bore him with her own company if he had a mind to be on his own. She found her book and curled up in one of the deep arm chairs drawn up to the cheerful fire.
She had read two pages when the door opened and Jake came in. ‘Ah,’ he said blandly, ‘I had an idea you might have gone into hiding for the afternoon.’
A remark which instantly set her on edge. ‘And why should you think that?’ she wanted to know tartly. ‘I have no reason to hide.’
‘Oh, good, I can’t help feeling that if we see more of each other we may eventually become friends. How about coming to dinner tomorrow evening? We’ll go to Popjoy’s and then go on somewhere to dance.’
A distressing vision of the blue velvet and the green jersey floated before Annis’s eyes. She’d heard of Popjoy’s, it was smart and expensive, and nothing would induce her to go there in either of these garments. With real regret she knew she would have to refuse, and the awful thing was that she actually had the money in her purse to buy that pretty blue crêpe she’d seen, only there was no time in which to buy it.
‘That’s awfully kind of you,’ she said carefully, ‘but I—I’m afraid I can’t accept.’
‘Why not?’
She sought for a good reason in a frenzy and couldn’t think of one. Being a parson’s daughter and the eldest, with a good example to set the others, she had been taught to speak the truth; only if it was going to hurt the hearer was it permissible to prevaricate. Well, she couldn’t see that Jake was going to be hurt. If anyone was, it would be herself, having to admit that she had nothing to wear. She gave him a very direct look and explained: ‘I haven’t got a dress.’ She had pinkened slightly in anticipation of his amusement, but she didn’t look away.
Jake didn’t smile, he said in a calm voice: ‘That’s a problem, but surely we can get round it? Have you got enough money to buy one?’
Strangely she didn’t feel offended at the question. ‘Well, yes—Mrs Duvant paid me, but you see I wouldn’t have time to get to the shops.’
‘Any particular shop?’
‘Jolly’s in Milsom Street.’
‘I take it that if you did have a dress you’d come to dinner with me?’ He wanted to know.
‘I’d like to, that’s if we could…that is, if we wouldn’t get on each other’s nerves.’
He did smile then, but in such a friendly fashion that she smiled back. ‘You never got on my nerves,’ he assured her. ‘Tell me, are you one of those women who take hours to buy something or could you find what you wanted in half an hour or so? Because if you could, we’ll go now: I’ll run you there in the car.’
Annis was out of her chair and making for the door. ‘Give me five minutes!’
The dress was still there. She left Jake browsing in a book shop and went to try it on. The colour was becoming, a shade darker than her eyes, and the dress, although inexpensive, was quite well cut, made of some thick silky material with a chiffon ruffle outlining the neck and the cuffs. Examining herself in the fitting room, Annis decided that it would do very well; it could take the place of the blue velvet and that garment she could consign to the jumble sale. She didn’t think it was quite the sort of dress Jake’s girl-friends would wear, but since she wasn’t one of them that didn’t matter. She paid for it and on the way out spent most of the change on a pair of bronze sandals going