And All That Jazz Episode 12
Dora spent a restless night thinking about Vincent, the expression on his face as she’d helped him to his feet to speak.
She hadn’t the first inkling he was expected to talk before hearing his name called.
In fact, she’d made it very clear that he wouldn’t, and Mother had seemed to accept that at the time.
Dora should have known better.
Her mother was adept at manipulating people until she had what she wanted.
At first, she blamed her for Vincent being so upset, but later Dora saw it was her own fault.
She had automatically done as she was asked, knowing it would upset him, unable to break the conditioning of a lifetime.
Vincent had returned to Coventry the day after.
The thought of him being angry with her pained Dora, but there was at least something she could put right.
* * *
Bea’s face was blank as she led Dora up the narrow stairs and into the rooms she shared with Lizzy.
“She’s not at work, so she slept in,” Bea informed her.
Dora had only visited the flat once before, but it was brighter than she remembered.
Every surface was softened with a chenille throw, the walls covered with sketches – charcoal, pencil, chalk.
“Are these yours, Miss Winborn?” Dora asked, peering at the nearest one.
“Yes. Lizzy has wonderful bone structure but a short attention span.” Bea laughed, throwing herself into a chair and motioning towards the one opposite.
There was a large woollen jumper on the seat and a pair of stockings hanging on the back.
“Tidiness is not a priority, either,” Dora commented.
She pushed the jumper aside and sat on the edge of the seat.
“I’m surprised you put up with her at all,” she added.
Bea watched her through narrowed eyes.
“I’m very fond of her. She is a good person,” Bea said.
Dora flushed.
Why did she always say the wrong thing?
“You had a falling out,” Bea remarked, sitting back in her chair.
With her straight nose and strong brows, she resembled a Greek sculpture come to life.
“Yes, we did,” Dora confirmed. “That’s why I’m here. To say how sorry I am.”
Bea nodded.
“Mrs Vale, I hope you don’t mind me being honest?” she asked.
Dora’s stomach sank.
“No, of course not,” she replied.
“Yours is an old family, and there were once expectations of women from such families,” Bea said.
“Well, yes.”
“Marry well, produce dozens of children, preferably male heirs.”
Bea leaned forward, curls falling from her scarf.
“But the war, it’s changed so much, don’t you see?” she continued. “You have the vote, I assume?”
“Well, yes . . .” Dora replied.
“Well, Lizzy and I don’t, just because we don’t own property,” Bea explained. “But this will soon change, Mrs Vale, and women like Lizzy will make that change.”
Seeing her conviction, Dora was in no doubt she was right.
“What are you saying, Miss Winborn?” she asked.
“That some women want a house, a husband and children, and some don’t,” Bea pointed out.
“Just because we don’t crave certain freedoms, we shouldn’t begrudge them for others,” she added.
Is that what she did? Dora thought. Begrudge Lizzy her freedom?
A knock at the door heralded a fuzzy-haired Lizzy, barefoot, wearing a silk kimono.
“I have a commission to complete,” Bea declared, then left the two sisters
by themselves.
Lizzy settled in the chair Bea had just left, tucking her feet under her.
“I think I’ve just had a telling off,” Dora said, feeling rather bruised.
Lizzy rolled her eyes.
“Oh, she does that to me all the time.” She shot Dora a shy smile. “Look, I –”
Dora held up her hand.
“Please, Lizzy, let me speak first,” she stated. “I’m so very sorry for the other day. I never meant
to upset you about
Charlie –”
“I know,” Lizzy replied. “I talked it all over with Bea and she gave me a good ticking off.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes. She said I was vile to say what I did and a silly goose expecting you to use Mother’s friends to help out.”
“But I do want to help, truly I do.” Dora reached her hand across the divide between them.
Lizzy untucked her feet and came to sit in the chair beside her.
She put her arms around Dora, pulling her close.
Tears sprung to Dora’s eyes at the warmth.
When was the last time she’d been held?
They pulled apart, Lizzy giving Dora a handkerchief from her pocket, dabbing her own eyes with her sleeve.
“What are we to do, you and I?” Lizzy asked. “We are always at cross purposes.”
“But we needn’t be,” Dora replied, gripping her hand. “I want us to be closer again.”
“So do I.”
“You truly like Charlie, don’t you?”
Lizzy nodded, tears springing to her eyes again.
Dora wondered how she’d feel if Vincent was taken from her now.
She squeezed her sister’s hand.
“Then listen to me. I have an idea,” she said.
To be continued…