‘You look as pretty as a picture, I’ve been watching you.’
Freedom slipped his arm around her and she cuddled close.
‘Happy, manushi?’
She looked up into his smiling, handsome face. ‘I am, an’ you’re a rinkeney man all right, Freedom Stubbs.’
He roared with laughter at her use of the Romany word for ‘handsome’, and together they walked towards Ed and Freda’s cottage. They peered like children into the kitchen and then giggled. Ed had their son on his lap and Freda was standing by giving him instructions on how to change a nappy.
‘I don’t think ‘e needs one, love, ‘e’s just done it all over me best pants.’
The following morning there was bright sunshine and Ed talked the stableboys into allowing Freedom to ride. ‘Yer know, lads, if ‘e wasn’t a champion boxer ‘e could ‘ave been a jockey, will you look at ‘im with that animal, bloody marvel, my God ‘e’s a wonderful fella.’ Ed glowed with pride and beamed at Mr Plath as he strode through the stableyard.
‘Ah, Meadows, all the servants are to gather in the main hall for Christmas gift time, will you instruct your party to be in the hall on the dot of eight?’
‘Now, Freda, there’s no need to get all uppity, all they want is us all gathered, like. Sir Charles hands out ‘is gifts to the servants, see, then we ‘ave a shindig, a dance in the ballroom.’
Freda pursed her lips, furious to be classed with the servants.
Evelyne laughed, ‘Oh, come on, Freda, it’ll be fun, and you can get all dressed up. Of course we’re not servants, well, not any more.’
Ed refrained from pointing out to the two women that while they might not be staff, both he and Freedom were employed by Sir Charles. He was too relieved that Evelyne had accepted it and even seemed bent on enjoying her stay at The Grange.
Promptly at eight, not a minute before or after, the staff lined up in the hall. It was impressive to watch, there were kitchen maids, scullery maids, ladies’ maids, butlers, footmen, valets, cooks, gardeners, stableboys, dog handlers, gunsmiths. Miss Balfour stood at one end of the hall with the general house manager, the estate manager and two secretaries. In a small group slightly apart from the general household staff stood Ed, Freda, Freedom and Evelyne.
Everyone wore their Sunday best or their immaculate uniforms, and the line of more than forty people stood as though on parade. It dawned on Evelyne just how wealthy this household was, how could some have so much and others so little?
Miss Balfour shook hands with Freedom and congratulated him as if she was telling him he’d brought in muck from the stables, ‘Sir Charles will be coming down any moment, he will wish you all a happy Christmas, and then you are to file past him one at a time …’
At that moment he appeared on the staircase, and there was a sudden hush. In clipped tones he wished every one of them a happy Christmas and a prosperous New Year, thanked them for all their good work, and hoped they would remain one big family.
Sir Charles handed Ed and Freda their gifts, polite, charming, and then turned to Freedom, who received the same cordial handshake with his neatly wrapped gift. Evelyne felt humiliated, as if she was lined up in the poorhouse, and accepted her token gift with lowered eyes, not once looking into the monocle.
‘Do hope you will enjoy the dance, thank you for your service.’
‘Well, manushi, I suppose we should go an’ perform for our lord and master.’
Evelyne muttered that Sir Charles might be his lord, but he certainly wasn’t hers.
In the ballroom a small orchestra played a waltz. Evelyne removed the heavy coat she was wearing over the satin gown Sir Charles had bought her in Cardiff, and got many admiring glances. Freda had shortened it, sewn on a few sequins to freshen it up, and arranged Evelyne’s hair the way Freedom liked it in a long braid down her back with ribbon threaded through, green to match her eyes. This was the only time of year that Sir Charles actually mixed with his servants so it was quite an occasion.
Tables were laid for Sir Charles and his guests at one end of the ballroom, with pristine white cloths, silver and crystal, but they were empty as yet. A long buffet at one side was covered with cloths, and tables were ranged round the other walls for the staff. Evelyne and Freedom sat with Freda and Ed and a group of the stableboys. Ed and Freedom were sitting with their heads close together, discussing boxing as usual, and Freda gave Evelyne a little shake of her head and a shrug.
The orchestra played on, and the evening began to liven up as they all did the hokey-cokey around the room. Everyone was in high spirits, singing at the tops of their voices, ‘You put your right foot in, right foot out, in, out, in out, and shake it all about … and that’s what it’s all about … Oh, the hokey-cokey, oh, the hokey-cokey … Knees bend, arms stretch, Ra! Ra! Ra!’
During the dance Sir Charles and his guests arrived and crossed the floor to their reserved tables. When the music ended Freda flopped down in her chair, fanning herself with her hankie, ‘Oh, I’m too old, too old for this kind of dance, darlink, I must have a long drink.’
Evelyne laughed. She was flushed, too, and she headed for the table where drinks were being served. She turned to look over at Sir Charles’ table, and her heart stopped.
David Collins was standing staring across the ballroom. He was lighting a cigarette in a thin gold holder. She had forgotten how handsome he was, how refined. She was josded along the queue for drinks, and asked for two lemonades. As she waited for them she saw Sir Charles gesturing to Freedom to join his table. Evelyne stood on tiptoe to watch as Freedom bent to kiss Lady Primrose’s hand, then pulled out a chair to sit down. His back was to Evelyne and David was on his right. Freedom must have said something amusing, as the whole group laughed.
Taking a roundabout route Evelyne went back to her table, avoiding Sir Charles’ group. She sat down as Freda brought two plates piled so high with food it was spilling on to the cloth. ‘My darlink, eat, eat, I have never seen so much glorious food.’
Evelyne smiled, but her eyes strayed constantly to David as she sipped her drink. Lady Primrose stood up and pulled at Freedom’s arm, dragging him on to the dance floor. Evelyne felt sorry for him, she didn’t know if he could dance and wondered if she should go to his rescue, but that would mean meeting David.
Holding hands, Freedom and Lady Primrose walked over to the orchestra, and he tapped the conductor on the shoulder and spoke to him. Still waving his baton, the conductor nodded his head. Evelyne wondered what had been said and was fascinated to see how relaxed Freedom was, he seemed almost on intimate terms with Her Ladyship.
The orchestra struck up a tango, and on to the floor glided Freedom, his hand out for Lady Primrose to follow. She giggled and looked towards her table, then stood as Freedom demonstrated a step. A few couples stood and watched as he waited for the beat to begin the dance. He closed his eyes and stood quite still, head up, then slowly began to dance, clicking his heels in Romany style, putting the whole room to shame as he glided elegandy across the floor. After a short solo he swept Lady Primrose into his arms and she laughed, throwing her head back. Then, the show over, he began to teach her the steps.
Evelyne was so astounded by Freedom’s dancing that she was unaware of David’s approach until he was standing direcdy behind her chair. ‘I don’t know if I can tango, but I’m willing to try, would you do me the honour, Evie?’
Startled, she turned to him, then told him curtly that she didn’t tango. He promptly sat down, insisting he could wait for a waltz. He glanced at his wife on the dance door, then back to Evelyne. ‘You’ve not changed, not at all.’