here on any sort of regular basis.” There was a note of caution in his voice that May was in no mood to be troubled by.
“I am sure Mr. Julian will manage somehow,” she said gaily. “And now I must be off to London to see my brother. Would you mind dropping me at the station, Mr. Hooch?”
Mr. Hooch and May stood together on the platform as they had done on the day they had first met. He shook her hand, his glove leaving a small oily mark on her palm although no blemish could dampen May’s elated mood.
“Here we are then, and cheer-oh, as we soldiers used to say in the old days. Stay safe, my dear. I don’t mind telling you I am already looking forward to your return on Monday.”
As the train rumbled towards London May briefly considered her feelings of relief that Duncan had always just stopped himself from advancing his foul interest in his daughter to its horrible conclusion. Whatever he had done to her, he had left her essential purity intact for another to discover. Mr. Hooch’s mention of Lottie had made no impact on her that afternoon and it was not long before she drifted back to the memory of Julian’s parting kiss and his promise that he would be back with her at Cuckmere soon.
Oak Street felt musty when May let herself in the front door. Despite the spic-and-span order of the house, the Castors and the Greenfelds rarely opened a window, even in the summer, and the small downstairs rooms could become clogged with smells of cooking and Simon’s pipe smoke. She was pleased to find Sam home on a day’s leave, making a cup of tea.
“Let’s go outside to the park before dinner,” she urged, pulling him away from the teapot and handing him his overcoat. “I haven’t seen you for ages and I’ve got loads to talk to you about.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
There had been times recently when Evangeline had felt lonelier than at any moment since her arrival in England. With the absence of Wiggle and the incapacity of her godmother, the diversions that had previously filled her London days were becoming fewer. Walks in the park, visits to the dressmaker, outings to the cinema, and even treats to the outstanding patisserie department at Fortnum and Mason lost their appeal when there was no one to enjoy them with.
The London house had developed a sense of abandonment. Philip often spent the night but left for work immediately after an early breakfast, returning only to change into his evening clothes before going out again until after dinner. Even Julian never dropped by anymore, although Evangeline knew from May how often he visited Cuckmere. She had no longer felt quite as well disposed towards May since noticing her inappropriate and frankly ridiculous need to follow Julian all over the place: up to the North, down to the South, over the fields and yonder. Poor Julian. That flat-chested young woman must be driving him mad. And May was certainly close to overstepping the limitations of professional relationships. Evangeline had even considered mentioning the matter to Philip but was not confident she would get the response she was seeking.
Rupert and Bettina came and went as they wished but were as tedious as ever, obsessed by their own social engagements, arriving at all hours of the night with their loud-mouthed friends. An invitation to Evangeline to accompany Bettina and her friend Charlotte in loco parentis to their formal presentation to the king at the Buckingham Palace garden party had resulted in a washout. In truth, Evangeline had felt sorrier on that occasion for the girls than for herself. The presentation was to have been the high point of their debut year. Fittings for white silk dresses and discussions about the feathered headdresses had even begun to bore Evangeline. But the garden party had been rained off.
Well over a hundred girls had been waiting for their big moment, running over the presentation curtsey in their heads, trying to ignore their mothers’ fussing while fluttering their fans and doing their best to keep their feathers dry. Suddenly it was announced that not only would there be no more presentations that day but that the king had decided that the curtsies of those debutantes who had been foiled by the rainstorm were to be “taken as made.” No alternative arrangements were to be scheduled, rendering entire outfits and the rest of the grand hullaballoo redundant.
“I know Daddy hobnobs