Casting Off: Cazalet Chronicles Book 4 by Elizabeth Jane Howard

Author:Elizabeth Jane Howard [Howard, Elizabeth Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, British, Historical, Classics, Contemporary, Genre Fiction, Family Saga, Literary, Women's Fiction, Domestic Life, Romance, Contemporary Fiction, Family Life, Sagas, Literary Fiction
ISBN: 0671534297
Amazon: B004LLIEF2
Publisher: Pan
Published: 2011-01-29T23:00:00+00:00

RUPERT

November 1946

‘What did you think of her?’

‘She seemed friendly.’ She thought for a moment, and then said, ‘She had very ugly hands. And those rings Edward’s given her make one notice them more.’

‘Oh, Zoë! I never noticed them.’

‘You asked me.’

‘I meant a bit more generally than that, I suppose.’

They were driving down West End Lane; it was late, and rather foggy.

‘She’s very much the opposite of Villy, isn’t she? To look at, I mean.’

‘Amazing eyes,’ he said, ‘sort of bluebell-coloured. Well, you wouldn’t expect her to be like Villy, surely.’

‘I don’t know. I thought men usually went for the same type. And there were some things that were the same about her.’

‘What?’

‘Well, she was a bit dramatic, a bit what the Duchy would call theatrical.’

‘I can’t see that at all—’ he began, but she interrupted.

‘Yes! She was theatrical about being sincere. She kept saying how much she believed in people saying what they thought, being straightforward, that sort of thing.’

‘You didn’t like her, then.’

‘Well, I didn’t dislike her.’

‘Oh, well. We don’t have to be enormous friends with her. Edward wanted us to meet her, and we have.’

‘We’ll have to have them back, though, and we’ll have to shut up to Villy about having met her.’

‘And Hugh,’ he said. ‘Oh, damn!’

They had almost reached the bottom of the lane and, without warning, were surrounded by dense fog. Rupert slowed down at once as he narrowly missed hitting a parked car.

‘It’s like the fogs before the war!’

‘Can you watch out for the left-hand kerb – and any more parked cars. Wind your window down.’

She did, and the acrid smell filled the car. ‘I can only see about three or four feet ahead,’ she said, ‘so do slow down.’

The occasional street-lights had become dull yellow blurs against which the fog writhed and swirled as though it was being blown upon them, although there seemed to be no wind. After a few minutes, he pulled up against the kerb. ‘I want a fag,’ he said. ‘And also, I’ve got to think what would be the best route. It’s going to take us hours to get home.’

‘We may come out of it. Can I have one?’

‘Of course. Wind the window up, darling, while we’re thinking – there’s no point in you getting cold.’

‘I suppose we could try to get to the Duchy’s,’ he said, when he had lit their cigarettes. ‘It’s far nearer. We haven’t got a torch, by any chance, have we?’

‘I’m afraid I let Jules have it for Torchlight Ogres.’

‘Or we could get down to Edgware Road and then straight to Marble Arch and along Bayswater Road. That’s all main roads. There’ll be more light and there won’t be parked cars.’

‘Won’t the fog be worse by the park?’

‘Probably. Well, we could go via Carlton Hill and see if—’

At this moment there was a thud behind them. The car rocked.

‘Oh, Lord! Stay put, darling.’

He got out of the car and a woman’s voice said, ‘I’m most terribly sorry. I was trying to follow the kerb and I simply didn’t see you.

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