Lettice & Victoria by Susanna Johnston Read Free Book Online Page B

not left her room.
    Before the church party returned, Harold, waxy-faced and slightly toothy, went into the sitting room – a bow-windowed extension to the tower added at a later date. He sat silently in a rank dark suit and watched Victoria closely as she huddled by the fireplace obscured by green knitting and cigarette smoke. She had tried harder than usual with her appearance and the effort had made her uneasy. Her brown hair was curly and prettily brushed but despite her tidiness it seemed that a small disturbance might blow the whole thing into confusion.
    The others came in, superficially chastened by the church service.
    Lettice, barely hiding disapproval at the sight of knitting and leaning backwards to avoid cigarette smoke, dug her fingers into Victoria’s arm.
    ‘Now, darling. I want you to meet one of our oldest friends. Archibald Thorne. I can see that you and Harold have already made friends. Whatever you do, don’t let Archie bully you. He can be an absolute beast.’
    Archie saw humour in the girl’s face, which surprised him. He went forward to charm her.
    ‘Is that a jumper for Edgar? Aren’t you girls wonderful! Not only do you pledge yourselves to these young men for life but you knit jumpers for them as well. Lettice. Did you ever knit a jumper for Roland?’
    Victoria laughed. She said that she was having a hippy phase and was knitting herself a poncho-cum-trouser suit, but planned to make a jumper for Edgar as soon the present task was finished. He advanced further towards her, scowling and wagging a meaty hand. ‘A poncho-cum-trouser suit! I suppose that you approve of the adolescent of today. The shock-headed and dishevelled, with hair that seems to have run to seed hiding neck and ears in whiskery overgrowth, make me sick. I’ve seen them. Believe me. They’re everywhere, clad in patched jeans and dirty anoraks, padding hand in hand, sometimes with bare feet, along the city pavements. Horrible specimens of humanity.’
    Victoria began to laugh. She liked him very much. He wasamused by her laughter and held up his hand in mock fear of her disapproval.
    Then he advanced even closer wearing a slightly dragging, floppy suit. His shoes were rather bulgy but expensive looking . ‘Have you ever heard of a pop group called the Rolling Stones?’ The word ‘pop’ exploded as a Chinese firework. ‘The leader of this repulsive group – I forget his name – referred to the Mona Lisa as a load of crap! A load of crap. There.’ His eyes glittered above bifocals. Lettice trembled and feigned amused collusion with his whims, her face clouded by a desperate effort to appear affectionate and understanding. Archie continued to address Victoria.
    ‘My dear. You don’t take me seriously, do you?’
    ‘I don’t know how to take you. You attack in areas where I hold no views.’
    ‘No views! Do you mean to tell me that you hold no views on the hirsute and the hispid?’ Onlookers were silent.
    Edgar took Victoria’s hand as if to protect her from further harassment.
    Archie’s chuckle and Victoria’s obvious enjoyment made Lettice shudder but she ran for her camera and held her hand up in an urgent fashion. ‘Never allow a golden moment to go unrecorded. Flashing smiles, please. Where’s Orpheus? Doggy’s included. Say it after me. Papa, potatoes, poultry, prunes and prisms. Say the words and your mouths will be set fair for the photograph.’
    Harold strove to do her bidding but got no further than ‘potatoes’.

Chapter 3
    I n the afternoon, Archie and Harold left in the Daimler. Harold was too nervous to have learned to drive. He manoeuvred his long legs into the space in front of the passenger seat.
    Edgar and Victoria left too and, once back in London, he assured her that they would not return to The Old Keep until she was quite well.
    ‘But you must understand Mother. She has a deadly time in the country with Father painting and listening to birdcalls on the gramophone. You resist the