The Death of the Heart - Elizabeth Bowen [80]
Daphne's party walked in a Sundayish dogged manner, using without sensation their deep lungs. They knew every inch of the sea wall; they looked ahead to Southstone, where the dome of the Splendide was bright gold. The sense of exposure this airy bareness gave them made them, with one another, at once sidelong and bold. On the whole, they walked abreast, but as far apart as they could; at times they converged so close that they jogged elbows; if they split up into twos, the twos called across to each other—this was daylight: there were no tête-à-têtes. At the end of a mile and a half they reached the old lifeboat station, where without a word they all wheeled round to return. The girls fell into a three; the three young men kept pace exactly behind them. They faced west.
With the first touch of evening, the first dazzle, a vague poeticness invaded them. Yawnfuls of ozone stopped the desultory talk. Evelyn took Daphne's arm; Cecil veered out alone to the edge of the esplanade and began to kick a lonely pebble along. A lovely brigantine appeared on the Channel, pink with light.
Portia drew a breath, then suddenly said to Daphne: "A friend of mine—could he ever come and stay here?"
Brought out with a bang like this, it sounded quite all right.
Daphne veered thoughtfully round, hands in her pockets, chin deep in the folds of her doggy scarf, and Evelyn peered across Daphne, holding on to her arm. "What say?" Daphne said. "A boy friend, do you mean?"
Evelyn said: "That's what she's been in such a study about."
"Could he how much?" said Daphne.
"Ever come and stay here?"
"Come and stay here when?"
"For a week-end."
"Well, if you have a boy friend. I don't see why not. Do you see why not, Evelyn?"
"I should have thought it depended."
"Yes, it depends, naturally. Have you really got a friend, though?"
"Just fancy, her," added Evelyn. "Still, I don't see why not."
Daphne said swiftly: "Friend of your sister-in-law?"
"Oh yes. She, he, they—"
"He'll be a bit ritzy for us, then, won't he? However," said Daphne looking at Portia derisively, but with a touch of respect, "if he's really as keen as all that it won't hurt him to lump it. Well, you certainly don't lose any time, do you? Of course, you'll have to square it with Mumsie, of course.... Go on: don't be such a little silly. She won't think anything of it; she's used to boys."
But boys were not Eddie. Portia paused, then said: "I thought I would ask you, then I thought you might ask her."
"What's your friend in?" put in Evelyn. "The Diplomatic?"
"Who's in the Diplomatic?" said Charlie, coming alongside.
"Portia's friend who's coming."
"Well, he is not really: he's in my brother's office."
"Well, after all," said Evelyn, adjusting to this. She was the receptionist in Southstone's biggest beauty parlour: her face, whatever Dickie might think of it, continued to bloom in luscious and artificial apricot tones. Her father was Mr. Bunstable, the important house agent who not only negotiated the Waikiki summer let but had clients throughout the county. Evelyn was thus not only a social light but had a stable position—consequently, she could not be hoped to enter into Daphne's feeling against the Quaynes. Business people were business people. She said kindly: "Then it's been nice for him, picking up with you."
"Your sister-in-law," said Daphne with some relish, "would probably have a fit."
Evelyn said: "I don't see why."
"Say, Cecil," cried Daphne, whisking round sharply at him, "must you keep on kicking that old stone?"
"So sorry: I was thinking something out."
"Well, if you want to think, why come for a walk? Anyone might think this was a funeral—I say, Wallace, I say do listen, Charlie: Portia doesn't think much of any of you boys! She's having her own friend down."
"Local talent," said Wallace, "not represented. Well, these ladies from London—what can you expect?"
"Yes, you'd think," said Daphne, "it should be enough for anyone, watching Cecil kicking that old stone."
"Oh, it isn't that," said Portia, looking at them anxiously. "It's not that, really, I mean."