The Dressmaker Part 14

'They've grown airs, think they're cla.s.sy. You're not doing them any good.'

'They think I'm not doing you any good.' Tilly handed Teddy her smoke. 'Everyone likes to have someone to hate,' she said.

'But you want them to like you,' said Molly. 'They're all liars, sinners and hypocrites.'

Teddy nodded, blowing smoke rings.

'There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so,' said Tilly.

Molly directed her gaze again at Teddy, but the young man was looking keenly at Tilly.

'I'm gunna dig the garden,' said Barney.

'Not now,' said Teddy, 'it's dark.'

'No,' he said, 'tomorrow.'

Tilly nodded, 'Tomorrow, then we'll plant more vegetables.'

'You've got yourself a golf partner and a first cla.s.s gardener,' said Teddy.

'It's his garden,' said Tilly.

'Freeloaders. You only want food for that rabble down at the tip,' said Molly.

Tilly winked at Barney, who blushed. Later, when the embers nestled in soft ash, when Molly had nodded off and Barney had long gone home to bed, Teddy looked at Tilly with his head on the side and a twinkle in his eye. She found it unsettling, he made her palms sweat and her feet itch when he looked at her like that.

'You're not a bad sort of a sheila are you?' He suddenly put his boots to the floor and leaned close to Tilly, elbows on his knees. 'You could make some bloke pretty happy.'

He was about to take her hands when she stood. 'I pray you, do not fall in love with me, For I am falser than vows made in wine. I must put Molly to bed now.'

'I don't know that one,' said Teddy.

'Ah ha,' said Tilly. 'Good night, good night, parting is such sweet sorrow ...'

She threw a seat cus.h.i.+on which hit the door as it closed behind him. His head appeared again. He blew her a kiss then vanished.

Tilly blew a kiss at the closed door.

He came to collect her for the ball wearing a new dinner suit, bow tie and patent leather shoes. She was not dressed.

'You're wearing your dressing gown?'

'What if no one talks to you, like last time?' she asked, grinning.

Teddy shrugged, 'I can talk to you.'

'They'll make it uncomfortable '

He took her hand. 'We'll dance.'

When she looked doubtful, he put his arms around her waist and she leaned into him.

'I knew you couldn't resist me.'

She laughed. He could make her laugh these days. He pulled her to him and they tangoed around the kitchen table. 'We'll do a jitterbug that'll send them running from the floor!'

'And they'll hate me even more!' she cried and arched back over his arm, her hair hanging to the floor.

'The more they hate you the more we'll dance,' said Teddy and pulled her up, holding her close. They looked at each other, their faces close, the tips of their noses almost touching.

'Sickening,' said Molly.

Teddy zipped up the back of her dress and shoved his hands into his pockets, looking closely at the perfect way the zipper sat over her backbone, the way it raised mounds of skin, the way she'd scooped up her hair, admiring her lovely ear lobes and the fine down across the top of her lovely lip. He stepped back and looked at her standing there in her fabulous dress. Tilly had copied one of Dior's most famous gowns the Lys Noir, a strapless, floor-length creation conceived as a sarong but she had shortened the hem, so the magenta silk organza sat just above her knees at the front and swung behind to catch between her shoulder-blades and then fell away to a short train that frothed along the floor behind her. 'Dangerous,' said Teddy.

'You said it.' She held her hand out to him. He took it, folding it in his strong hands. He was her good friend and he was her ally. She gathered her train, draping it over her free arm. He pulled her to him and kissed her. It was a warm, soft, delicious kiss that found its way to the soles of her feet, curled her toes and melted her. It made her knees want to lift and her legs open, it pulled her hips against his and made her groan in the back of her throat. He kissed her slowly all the way across her neck and back up to her ear, then to her lips where he found her a little breathless.

'What am I doing?' she whispered.

He kissed her again.

Molly wheeled quietly up to them. They turned to look down at the old woman with the tea cosy on her head, the wool threads and ribbons dripping from her chair like soiled horsehair and the dried geraniums clinging to the spokes of her chair.

'My intentions are only honourable,' said Teddy.

'You know perfectly well girls who wear dresses like that don't warrant honourable intentions,' said Molly.

They laughed out loud together and she felt her b.r.e.a.s.t.s press against him, felt his heart beat and his belly s.h.i.+mmer gently against hers when they laughed. Teddy held her as though she were crystal and she smiled. He drove down The Hill holding her hand.

The couturiered ladies of Dungatar arrived late and entered the hall at three-minute intervals, poised, their noses aimed at the lights and their mouths creased down. They moved slowly down the centre of the hall through the gaping guests from Winyerp.

Usually Marigold sent her measurements and a picture of what she wanted to Tilly via Lois, but this time she had gone for a fitting. Tilly had swathed her tightly-sprung and trembly form in long, soothing lines of pastel blue silk crepe, very closely cut on a bias with a saucy short train. A high, fine net draped softly over her throat (to hide her rash) and was sprinkled with light diamantes. The sleeves were slightly angel cut, three-quarter-length net. She had dressed her hair in a high, curled fringe. Evan told her she looked 'like a seraph', and rubbed his hands together.

Lois Pickett had brought a drawing to Tilly and said, 'What about this?' Tilly looked briefly at the long-sleeved cuffed blouse with a neckline featuring a high stand-up collar and flounced peasant skirt, then made her a sculpted, floor-length black crepe gown with a lifted front hem which exposed her slim ankles. The sleeves were bangle-length Magyar, the decolletage horse-shoe shaped and low, exposing a respectable but alluring show of Lois's cleavage. Tilly st.i.tched a pink satin rose at the front, just inside her hip, softening her barrel appearance. Lois floated down the centre of the hall looking quite the bon vivant and three sizes smaller, her hair bobbed and waved and sprinkled with glitter. For Miss Prudence Dimm, Tilly had tailored royal blue wool crepe close to her body and inserted a sky blue silk double pleat down one side which kicked and s.h.i.+mmered when she moved. She followed Nancy, who oozed in only just wearing a silver lame halter-necked backless gown that clung like warm toffee over an apple. She was unable to swagger since the skirt was firm, and she held herself erect (unaided by a broom handle) in case the lame lapels curled and exposed the side of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Ruth followed Prudence. Tilly had created the perfect outfit to hide Ruth's sun-baked shoulders: a long-sleeved, high-necked diaphanous black top with light beading that started at her nipples and acc.u.mulated at her waist. The silk skirt was long and soft, split to the top of her slim thigh. She looked like someone normally seen at New York's Cotton Club.

Purl had pointed to a picture of Marilyn Monroe in Bus Stop and said, 'I want to look like that.' She stood in the doorway on Fred's arm, milky white and sparkling in an itty-bitty frost-green satin bodice with thin beady shoulder straps. A frothy ice-green tulle skirt curled seductively from her tiny waist to hang in jagged handkerchief triangles about her beaded ankle straps and spike heels. She had gone platinum and copied Jean Harlow's shoulder-length creases and curves. Fred's smile equalled her glow.

The fas.h.i.+on parade continued. Tilly had chosen pastel pink satin for Gertrude. The bodice was chic boat-necked with cap sleeves and the waist dipped at the back, rising gently at the front to accommodate her fecundity. The skirt fell to a bias A-line that kicked happily about her ankles. William had grown a Clark Gable moustache and escorted his wife down the centre of the hall, one hand behind his back, the other raised slightly, Trudy's palm resting on it. They followed Elsbeth, who glided as though she had a vase balanced on her head. Her gown was lush, bottle-green velvet, sleeveless, with a black satin-trimmed square neck. A wide satin belt, fitted low across her pelvis, tied over her bottom in a huge knot that trailed the floor behind her. Tilly had made her elbow-length black satin gloves to match. Elsbeth and Trudy both dressed their hair in a French pleat coiffure.

Sergeant Farrat arrived in top hat and tails and went straight to his table. Evan and Marigold sat opposite. Trudy and Elsbeth were on either side of William and leaned across him talking. 'When shall we have Belle of the Ball?' asked Trudy.

Elsbeth looked about the hall. 'Can you see a mag-enta dress?'

'She's not here yet,' said William.

Elsbeth turned to her son. 'What table is she on?'

Evan patted his wife's hand and said, 'I don't think the judges will have much trouble finding Belle of the Ball tonight.' He winked at Elsbeth and Trudy.

Beula Harridene came marching through the door. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair untidy and she wore a white cardigan over a floor-length, pale green b.u.t.ton-through with a dusty hem.

'They're on their way!' she said and sat down next to Sergeant Farrat.

Elsbeth, Trudy and Evan stood and moved to the stage. The Faithful O'Briens played 'My Melancholy Baby'. Lesley turned to Mona and said formally, 'Shall we dance, my dear?' and they moved to the dance floor, followed by Sergeant Farrat and Marigold and the remaining Dungatar couples. They swished and shuffled in circles with their chins high. The ladies from Winyerp and Itheca remained in their seats hiding their frothy frocks and net shawls. When Nancy visited the ladies' powder room, a woman in a stiff, strapless bird's-eye gown stood beside her at the mirror and asked, 'Who makes your enchanting gowns?'

'That's our secret,' said Nancy and turned her back.

Evan Pettyman stood in front of the microphone and wiped the sweat from his brow with a square white handkerchief. He welcomed the guests from out of town, then went on to speak about good neighbours and compet.i.tors, and begged the entrants for Belle of the Ball to rise and parade the floor just once more so the judges could make their final, very difficult decision. Purl, Lois, Nancy and Ruth, Miss Dimm, Mona and Marigold crossed the floor, stiff and smiling in front of Trudy and Elsbeth who leaned together, nodding and whispering. Evan leaned down to them as Hamish played a drum roll.

'Oh my,' exclaimed Evan, putting his hand to his heart. 'This is indeed the right judgement. Tonight's Belle of the Ball is ... my good lady wife, Marigold Pett-e-mon!' He moved towards his blus.h.i.+ng wife, took her small hand and ushered her onto the dance floor to lead the evening's first waltz.

At the end of the waltz, Beula moved to Marigold and a.s.sisted her to the powder room to catch her breath and splash cold water on her wrists. Beula stood over her fanning her with a thick wad of toilet tissue. 'So, you won Belle of the Ball, in a dress she made,' she hissed. Marigold nodded.

'You know who her father is, don't you?' said Beula.

'A travelling repair man, a Singer Sewing-machine man,' replied the Belle.

'Wrong. Molly gave her his name, it's her middle name.'

Marigold leaned closer to Beula who whispered into her ear, then stood back to make sure she had heard, watching her rash turn purple.

Tilly and Teddy stood holding hands, smiling in the open doorway. They tapped their feet to the music, watching Tilly's gowns float about the floor. 'Oh Lord,' she said when Faith tried for F sharp. There was no one at the door just two empty seats, the raffle book and the door prize a new thermos and a collapsible canvas stool.

Tilly reached for the floor plan of the tables and leaned over the diagram. There were six tables with about a dozen names listed on each. She peered hard at the names.

'Look for where table six is,' said Teddy. Fred Bundle beckoned to him from a crowd of footballers lounging by the entrance, so Teddy stepped just inside the door, letting her hand slip from his.

'Table six,' said Tilly. 'Norma and Scotty Pullit, Bobby Pickett and T. McSwiney ...' T. Dunnage was printed lightly beneath T. McSwiney but it had been scribbled out. She located her name again on a table with the Beaumonts but they had used a red biro to cover her name. At the primary school table with Miss Dimm, Nancy, Ruth and others, someone had gone to the trouble of using the pinp.r.i.c.k-on-felt technique to perforate the plan where a name had been written, then tear the tiny piece out, leaving a jagged little square. On Purl's table, a name tacked onto the very end of the table had been scribbled out in black ink. Down the front at the band table, written in big pencil letters, some of them backward, was BARNEY. Next to his name Barney had added '+ TILLY' in red pencil. Barney was in charge of re-filling the band members' drinks and turning the pages on Faith's music book. But even then, someone had scrubbed out her name.

She straightened and turned to the doorway, but Teddy was not there only the solid backs of footballers. She stood unsure. Councillor Evan Pettyman turned to her, snorted and spat at the floor near her hem. She gazed down at the grape-coloured splash, then up into Beula Harridene's amber eyes. Beula smiled and said, 'b.a.s.t.a.r.d, murderer,' then pulled the door shut. Tilly stood alone in the foyer in her brilliant magenta Lys Noir gown, then wrapped her shawl tight about her and reached for the handle. Someone held it from the other side.

Teddy found her sitting in the park under a tree, shaking and completely unnerved. He handed her some watermelon firewater.

'They just don't want us to show them up.'

'It's not that it's what I've done. Sometimes I forget about it and just when I'm ... it's guilt, and the evil inside me I carry it around with me, in me, all the time. It's like a black thing a weight ... it makes itself invisible then creeps back when I feel safest ... that boy is dead. And there's more.' She drank again.

'Tell me.'

She started to cry.

'Oh Til,' he said and held her. 'Tell me.'

He took her back to his caravan by the tip and they sat opposite each other and she told him everything. It took a long time and she cried a great deal so he kissed her over and over and cried with her and pulled her close. He stroked her and soothed her and told her that it wasn't her fault, that nothing was her fault, that everyone was wrong. In the end they made close and tender love and then she slept.

He covered her in her magenta gown and sat naked next to her and smoked cigarettes, pondering her disturbed sleep, with tears sliding over his cheeks. Then he woke her. He handed her a gla.s.s of champagne and said, 'I think we should get married.'

'Married?' She laughed and cried at the same time.

'It's what they'd hate most and besides, you're the girl for me. There could never be anyone else now.'

She nodded, smiling through her tears at him.

'We'll do it here. We'll have a big wedding in Dungatar then we'll move away to somewhere better.'

'Better?'

'Away from bad things, to a good place, where the Sat.u.r.day night dances are better '

'And will you take my mad mother as well?'

'We can even take my slow brother.'

'Barney,' she laughed again and clapped, 'yes, Barney!'

'I'm serious.'

She didn't reply so he said. 'It's the best offer you're ever going to get 'round here.'

'Where would we go?'

'To the stars,' he said, 'I'll take you to the stars, but first ...' She stretched out her arms to him, and he lay down with her again.

Later they lay together on top of the silo looking up; two silhouettes on a corrugated silver roof under a velvet black sky shot with stars.h.i.+ne and a cold, white moon. The air was chilly, but the Autumn sun had warmed the iron.

'You never played with me when I was little,' said Tilly.

'You never came near us.'

'I watched you play here, you and Scotty and Reg. You used binoculars to search for rockets from "out of s.p.a.ce". Sometimes you were cowboys scouting for conquering Indians on horseback.'

Teddy laughed. 'And Superman. I got into real trouble once,' he said. 'We'd jump into the grain trucks as they pulled out of the loading dock then stay on top of the wheat until we crossed the creek, where we'd jump in. The sarge waited one day with Mae. Boy, did she kick my b.u.m.'

'Fearless,' said Tilly softly.

'Fearless,' he said, 'and I still am.'

'Are you?' She sat up. 'What about my curse?'

'I don't believe in curses. I'll show you,' he said and stood.

Tilly sat up and watched him inch down the sloping roof to the edge. 'What are you doing?' He looked down to the grain trucks lined up beside the loading dock.

'They might be empty,' she called.