Free Past Imperfect by Julian Fellowes Page B

little moue of regret with her mouth and wish aloud she could have come. But this time she thought for a moment and said 'all right. Why not?' It may not seem a very enthusiastic response, but at the sound of her words songbirds rose in flight in my heart. Lucy was there, trying and failing to escape Philip, her nemesis, who had proposed himself after her car had left. Damian came, of course, and a new girl, whom I had not met before that evening, a ravishing, Hollywood-style blonde with little to say for herself, Joanna Langley. I say I did not know her, but I had heard of her as being very rich, one of the richest girls of the year, if part of the new post-Presentation crop. Her father had founded a sales catalogue for casual clothing or something similar, and while the money ensured that no one was rude to her face, things were not quite so pleasant behind her back. Personally, I liked her from the start. She was sitting on my left.
    'Are you enjoying it?' she asked as I sloshed some wine into her glass.
    I wasn't sure if she meant the dinner or the Season, but I assumed the latter. 'I think so. I haven't done much yet, but it seems a nice crowd.'
    'Are you?' This came from Damian, further down the table. I could see he was already training his headlamp glare on to Joanna. Like me, he clearly knew who she was.
    She was a little startled, but she nodded. 'So far. What about you?'
    He laughed. 'Oh, I'm not part of it. Ask him.' He indicated me with a jocular flick of his chin.
    'You're here, aren't you?' I replied rather crisply. 'What other qualification do you think we have?' Which was dishonest, but I didn't worry much, as I knew nothing would dampen his ardour.
    'Don't let him mislead you.' Damian had brought his gaze back to Joanna. 'I'm a perfectly ordinary boy from a perfectly ordinary home. I thought it would be fun to see it for myself, but I'm not part of this world at all.' It was carefully measured, like everything he said, and I can understand now what it was intended to achieve. It meant that every girl at that table would at once feel protective of him and none of them, or their friends, would ever be allowed to accuse him of pretending to be something he was not. His apparent modesty would give him permission to take and take, but never to feel any responsibility to a world he had declared he did not belong to and to which he owed nothing. Above all, it washed over their defences. From then on they were not afraid of being used by such a man. How could they be when he said himself he had no ambition? We had not even ordered before he was writing down his address for Joanna and two of the other girls present.
    I note I have stated that Damian was 'of course' with us. Why was it so understood that he would be? At this early stage of his London career? Perhaps because I had begun to reckon his gifts. I looked down the table to where he sat, with Serena on one side and Lucy on the other, making them both listen and laugh but never overplaying his hand with either, and I understood then that he was one of those rare beings who can fit seamlessly into a new group until, before much time has passed, they seem to be an integral, a founder, member of it. He joked and ribbed, but frowned a little, too. He took them seriously and nodded with concern, like someone who knew them well, but not too well. In all the time I knew him, he never made the classic parvenu mistake of lapsing into over-familiarity. Not long ago I was talking to a man before a shoot. We had got on well at dinner the night before and he, supposing, I imagine, that we were now friends, began to poke me jocularly in the stomach as he joshed me about my weight. He smiled as he said it and looked into my eyes, but what he saw there cannot have encouraged him as I had decided, on that instant, I would never seek his company again. Damian made no such error. His approach was relaxed and easy but never egregious or impertinent. In short, it was carefully