The Daffodils Of Newent by Susan Sallis

Author:Susan Sallis [Sallis, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-10-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

APRIL, BRIDGET, TOLLIE, Tollie, David and Manny Stein went to one of the Cadena’s famous tea dances. David did not dance but he wanted to enjoy watching the impact of April’s lampshade dress. He was not disappointed. William Bishop, who was rumoured to be about to expand his Bon Marché into most of the new Kings Square, approached him with an enquiry. David led him through the tables to walk around the balustrades and look down on the Saturday shoppers in the restaurant below.

Tollie held April gingerly as they fox-trotted unadventurously.

‘What you don’t seem to understand, April,’ he said, ‘is that if only there are enough Labour members – prospective members that is – they are bound to be voted in. Now that the working-class man has a vote he will obviously return a working-class representative.’

‘There’s no guarantee of that,’ April said without much interest. ‘They’ve only got to look at what happened before. Mr MacDonald couldn’t make it work even with the help of the Liberals so—’

‘It wasn’t the time,’ Tollie said eagerly. ‘But now . . . things are getting worse. Baldwin is hopeless. Did you read all that drivel about the Coal Commission last year? You see, if it goes on like this there’ll be an uprising in less than twelve months.’

April opened her eyes wide. ‘D’you mean a revolution? Like in Russia?’

‘The same.’

‘Oh Tollie. This is England.’

‘Exactly. A land fit for heroes.’ He laughed. She looked at him uncertainly and laughed too.

Bridget held him very tightly indeed. ‘I saw you laughing together Tollie, don’t try to deny it. April is my best friend. My very best friend, but if you think you can play fast and loose – even with my best friend – especially with my best friend—’

Tollie said wearily, ‘Do you ever think of anything but sex, Bridget? Anything at all?’

‘Yes. I think of your advancement. Daddy says he needs someone for the antiques. And I told him—’

‘I wish you wouldn’t, Bridget. I’m not interested in antiques. I’m not interested in the auctioneering business at all.’

‘What are you interested in, Tollie? Apparently it’s not sex. So just what is it?’

‘Politics. I’m going to go in for politics. Socialist politics.’

If he thought he might put her off, he was wrong. She was silent, staring at him while they circled the floor again. Then she said, ‘Darling. Of course. It’s absolutely you. And I can help you. I know so many people. You’ll be one of the intellectuals like that man with the funny name.’

‘Chiozza Money,’ he supplied glumly.

‘Do you know him, Tollie?’

‘Not personally.’

‘You will. You’ll know them all.’ She threw back her head triumphantly. ‘And what is more my dear, they will know you.’

Tollie felt his heart like lead inside his chest.

Manny Stein drank his tea and put down his cup to take April’s fingers in his. She tried to free herself and could not.

‘April, listen to me. David will return in a moment, I haven’t long. Leave him. Come away with me. You know I love you and I can give you anything you want.

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