hampers of delicacies to eat in my dressing-room. On the last night of
The
Man
at
Six
, Leonard went down on bended knee in my dressing-room and proposed to me. It was September 1930. In the spring we were married, in St John’s Church in Hackney.’
‘And you lived happily ever after,’ said Alison.
Alicia looked at her sharply, to see if the girl was making fun of her. But no, Alison looked enchanted. She had sat quite motionless throughout Alicia’s story and although Alicia had been absorbed in the telling, she could still sense when she had a receptive audience. She cocked her head on one side sentimentally. ‘Well yes, we did, dear,’ she said.
*
It was the third time that Alison had come to tea with her and the last two stale fancies were sitting in front of them on the table. At first, Alicia had thought that she would eat them herself between whiles, but then it had seemed an awful extravagance. She had thought of wrapping one in a bit of paper and giving it to Pearl for her boy, but she had decided it was too good for him. Pearl said he was causing her a lot of grief and shame by cheeking the nurses. It was bad enough while he was stuck in bed – he could still flick things – but after Christmas he would be allowed up and she shuddered to think what he would get up to on his crutches. Alicia feltmean once or twice, watching Pearl toiling away and knowing that she would not give her one of the hidden fancies. She came and worked for Alicia, after all, whereas Alison only sat. But she told herself that Pearl was far too fat anyway, that she would gobble it down in a moment and not appreciate it. So, even on the Wednesday when Pearl came in a perfectly matching lemon yellow turban that was just the colour of one of the left-over fancies, Alicia resolutely kept her mouth shut and hardened her heart.
Alison said, ‘What a beautiful story.’
Alicia looked complacent. ‘It’s not like that any more nowadays, is it? You’re in too much of a hurry for courting.’
Alison giggled. ‘Yes, I suppose we are.’
Alicia said, ‘Well, I think that’s a shame. Where’s the romance? Where’s the magic?’ She narrowed her eyes and leant forward. ‘Your friend, your Robert, how did he go about it?’
Alicia was deeply suspicious of ‘that Robert’. It seemed to her, looking at Alison, that he could only be a cad. Alison just didn’t look the sort to have entered gladly into that kind of a set-up. Alicia suspected that she had been put upon. She had already foreseen a future episode of their acquaintance, which she viewed as a sort of private television serial, in which Alison was turned out by that cad and came to her in tears for help. How tenderly Alicia would rescue her!
Alison said, ‘I’m afraid it all happened rather quickly. He didn’t court me for two years.’
‘He wouldn’t,’ said Alicia.
‘I mean, he didn’t rush me into it or anything. Everything just happened rather fast.’ She seemed to brighten. ‘It was love at first sight, I suppose.’
‘Ah,’ said Alicia, ‘like me and Leonard. Well, that’s something. So where did you meet him? Partying?’
‘He came to the museum where I work. He wanted to look at some old furniture and I showed him round. Then, the week afterwards, he came back again to look at something else and he asked me to go out with him.’
‘So his mind was made up from the moment he set eyes on you?’
‘Well, I felt that way, Mrs Queripel, but I don’t know if he did.’
‘Leonard used to say that I appeared on that stage like a vision. He had been auditioning all morning and I was last but one on his list. That moment when our eyes met over the footlights was pure magic; me in my audition outfit and him with his pencil poised, watching. “You got a lifelong part, darling,” he used to say to me, “You got a lifelong part.” And you know what I felt.”
‘Gosh, our meeting wasn’t anything like as romantic,’ said Alison.
Alicia wanted
The
Man
at
Six
, Leonard went down on bended knee in my dressing-room and proposed to me. It was September 1930. In the spring we were married, in St John’s Church in Hackney.’
‘And you lived happily ever after,’ said Alison.
Alicia looked at her sharply, to see if the girl was making fun of her. But no, Alison looked enchanted. She had sat quite motionless throughout Alicia’s story and although Alicia had been absorbed in the telling, she could still sense when she had a receptive audience. She cocked her head on one side sentimentally. ‘Well yes, we did, dear,’ she said.
*
It was the third time that Alison had come to tea with her and the last two stale fancies were sitting in front of them on the table. At first, Alicia had thought that she would eat them herself between whiles, but then it had seemed an awful extravagance. She had thought of wrapping one in a bit of paper and giving it to Pearl for her boy, but she had decided it was too good for him. Pearl said he was causing her a lot of grief and shame by cheeking the nurses. It was bad enough while he was stuck in bed – he could still flick things – but after Christmas he would be allowed up and she shuddered to think what he would get up to on his crutches. Alicia feltmean once or twice, watching Pearl toiling away and knowing that she would not give her one of the hidden fancies. She came and worked for Alicia, after all, whereas Alison only sat. But she told herself that Pearl was far too fat anyway, that she would gobble it down in a moment and not appreciate it. So, even on the Wednesday when Pearl came in a perfectly matching lemon yellow turban that was just the colour of one of the left-over fancies, Alicia resolutely kept her mouth shut and hardened her heart.
Alison said, ‘What a beautiful story.’
Alicia looked complacent. ‘It’s not like that any more nowadays, is it? You’re in too much of a hurry for courting.’
Alison giggled. ‘Yes, I suppose we are.’
Alicia said, ‘Well, I think that’s a shame. Where’s the romance? Where’s the magic?’ She narrowed her eyes and leant forward. ‘Your friend, your Robert, how did he go about it?’
Alicia was deeply suspicious of ‘that Robert’. It seemed to her, looking at Alison, that he could only be a cad. Alison just didn’t look the sort to have entered gladly into that kind of a set-up. Alicia suspected that she had been put upon. She had already foreseen a future episode of their acquaintance, which she viewed as a sort of private television serial, in which Alison was turned out by that cad and came to her in tears for help. How tenderly Alicia would rescue her!
Alison said, ‘I’m afraid it all happened rather quickly. He didn’t court me for two years.’
‘He wouldn’t,’ said Alicia.
‘I mean, he didn’t rush me into it or anything. Everything just happened rather fast.’ She seemed to brighten. ‘It was love at first sight, I suppose.’
‘Ah,’ said Alicia, ‘like me and Leonard. Well, that’s something. So where did you meet him? Partying?’
‘He came to the museum where I work. He wanted to look at some old furniture and I showed him round. Then, the week afterwards, he came back again to look at something else and he asked me to go out with him.’
‘So his mind was made up from the moment he set eyes on you?’
‘Well, I felt that way, Mrs Queripel, but I don’t know if he did.’
‘Leonard used to say that I appeared on that stage like a vision. He had been auditioning all morning and I was last but one on his list. That moment when our eyes met over the footlights was pure magic; me in my audition outfit and him with his pencil poised, watching. “You got a lifelong part, darling,” he used to say to me, “You got a lifelong part.” And you know what I felt.”
‘Gosh, our meeting wasn’t anything like as romantic,’ said Alison.
Alicia wanted
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