Free An Awfully Big Adventure by Beryl Bainbridge Page A

She propped her elbow on the table and resting her chin on her hand gave her full attention to Stella. ‘I wanted to believe he was a tragic figure,’ she said. ‘More sinned against than sinning, if you follow me. That way it made his rejection of me easier to bear. You do see that, don’t you? He’d had a serious liaison before the war with a young girl whom he’d got pregnant. He was only a boy, hardly out of drama school and scared stiff and, by the time he’d pulled himself together and gone back to do the right thing by her, the girl had disappeared. She’d given a false name so he couldn’t trace her. I thought I could help him to forget. Dear God, how wrong can one be!’ Her chin slumped in the palm of her hand.
    ‘I don’t feel sorry for that girl,’ said Stella. ‘She shouldn’t have given herself.’
    ‘Stanislaus has a serious liaison with me,’ cried Babs Osborne indignantly. Dotty told her to hush. ‘You think you’ve got troubles,’ she said. ‘Think of poor Grace.’
    ‘What did happen to Miss Bird’s husband?’ asked Stella. She didn’t want any gaps in the conversation. Babs Osborne was now weeping quite loudly and her nose was running. A string of mucus hung from her left nostril and clung to the curve of her lipsticked mouth; the waitresses kept looking across at the table.
    ‘They made a pact,’ Dotty said. ‘Foolish of her perhaps, but one does these things in the grip of passion. He agreed to marry her on the understanding that he could bow out if and when something better turned up. And of course it did, albeit twelve years later – a woman older than Grace with a private income.’
    ‘Still,’ said Stella, ‘she had a good innings.’
    ‘Stanislaus loves me for myself alone,’ Babs whined. ‘He disapproves of inherited wealth.’
    Stella thought of Meredith. ‘Has Mr Potter’s friend got money?’ she asked.
    ‘Hilary?’ said Dotty, and laughed on her jam-filled scone. ‘Not a brass farthing.’
    ‘I expect she’s pretty though,’ probed Stella. ‘I expect she’s elegant.’
    Babs Osborne stopped crying. Dotty looked thoughtfully down at the tablecloth. Stella supposed they were taken aback at her knowing details of Meredith’s private life.
    ‘Mr Potter told me to send a telegram. It was of a personal nature.’
    ‘I can imagine,’ said Babs.
    ‘I don’t mean to pry,’ floundered Stella. ‘It’s just that Mr Potter is such an interesting man . . . I mean, he isn’t run of the mill, is he? . . . and I thought any lady friend of his was bound to be unusual.’
    ‘How very true,’ murmured Dotty. Suddenly she caught sight of St Ives seated with Dawn Allenby in a corner of the restaurant. She waved to him extravagantly, blowing kisses as though she was on board an ocean liner that was carrying her away from him for ever. ‘Poor Dicky,’ she sighed. ‘What a cross he has to bear.’
    ‘Some people like being burdened,’ said Stella. ‘It gives them an interest.’
    ‘And what does Mr Fairchild like, do you suppose?’ asked Dotty. ‘What is your estimation of him?’
    ‘He’s a cunt,’ said Stella.
    She was crossing the square an hour before the box office opened, sent by George to buy a bottle of milk from Brown’s Café, when she saw Dawn Allenby buying a bunch of flowers from the stall near the telephone box. She waved, but Dawn didn’t see her, being too engrossed in stuffing the flowers into a large carrier bag.
    Rose Lipman went round the dressing-rooms before the half-hour call to wish everyone good luck. ‘I expect you to do your best,’ she said. ‘I ask nothing less.’ She was followed by Meredith who wore his monocle threaded on a silver chain. When he passed Stella in the corridor she could smell scented soap.
    A telegram from Stanislaus arrived shortly before curtain up; Babs was over the moon. Prue told George that Dawn Allenby was in high spirits because an admirer had sent her flowers. There was no card but Dawn