Page 20 of A Summer Scandal

‘Keris and Cal. You just missed them.’

‘And you? Have you any grand plans today?’

‘Well, I hadn’t,’ she sighed. ‘But it seems I’m expected to go to a town meeting about the pier this evening.’

She held the poster out for Barty to examine, watching his face carefully. Very few people had known she was here – just two, actually, Barty and Cal. She liked them both, but it would appear that one of them had been talking about her arrival in the bay, or else how would anyone know?

‘Oh dear.’ Barty leaned against his doorframe, downcast. ‘I rather think that might be my fault, Violet. I mentioned your arrival in passing last night at Zumba.’

The idea of Barty at Zumba had Violet half laughing despite herself. ‘Zumba?’

‘Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,’ he said. ‘You haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen my hip gyrations. Snake-like, if I say so myself.’

Vi looked down at her boots, smiling. ‘Will you come to the meeting?’ She swallowed. ‘Please?’

His eyes softened. ‘Of course. We’ll go together, shall we? I’ll be the envy of the place.’ He checked his watch, regretful. ‘I better get on, tea dance at the town ballroom at eleven. Need to polish my dancing shoes.’

‘You have a better social life than most twenty year olds,’ she said, shaking her head. Swallow Beach had a ballroom?

‘Life in the old dog,’ he said, waggling his eyebrows as he stepped back inside his flat and closed the door.

All neighbours off about their business, Violet trudged off up the stairs, screwing up the neon poster as she went.

Surrounded by red feathers and gold sequins, the radio on quietly in the background, Vi rediscovered her happy place. She had an order in from a theatre in London for a set of eight identical military-styled corsets, all embellished in gold and red with matching feather headdresses. Completing the first one had been a work of art, but thankfully the company loved it and had given Vi the green light to go ahead with the whole order, one of her most ambitious to date. She’d borrowed her grandmother’s tailor’s dummy from the bedroom, setting it up in the corner of the living room dressed as a military showgirl to serve as a consistent reminder to ensure they all matched. It looked fabulous, and given how kitsch the Lido apartment was, not even that much out of place.

‘I’m going to call you Lola,’ she said, positioning the dummy to best show off the costume. ‘Barry Manilow himself would be impressed.’

Everything about her work soothed her. The low hum of the sewing machine, the tape around her neck, the feelof the feathers as she sorted them by colour and size to ensure a spectacular finish. Tall ostrich plumes to work into headdresses, shorter dyed marabou feathers for the corsets. Black grosgrain ribbons, gold buttons … She had everything sorted into boxes and the open drawers of the sideboard, and for a few blessed hours she forgot all about Swallow Beach, or the pier, or that damn meeting. Much as she’d come here in search of adventure, what she was actually used to was peace and simplicity, both of which were in short supply around here.

When someone knocked the door just after one, she debated whether to pretend she wasn’t home. What if it was another angry local come to tear a strip off her?

‘Violet, open up. I’ve brought lunch.’

Cal.And more to the point, given that Violet had yet to eat, Cal with food. Laying her work down carefully, she stepped over the sewing machine’s electricity cord and went out to open the door.

Cal looked her up and down, taking in the tape measure around her neck and the red feathers tucked into the pocket of her work apron. ‘Busy?’

She nodded. ‘Working.’ He was dressed as he’d been earlier, so probably just returning. ‘And hungry, so you’re welcome.’

He followed her inside. ‘You mean you only want me for my burgers?’

‘There’s burgers in that bag?’ she said, sniffing. He wasn’t lying, and her stomach grumbled in appreciation.

‘Best burgers for miles,’ he said, distracted, his eyes moving over her bright, busy workspace. ‘Whatareyou doing?’

His appreciative, interested eyes found Lola standing to attention in the corner.

‘Ooh,’ he said, putting the burger bag down on the breakfast bar. ‘You didn’t say you had company. I’d have brought extra food.’

Vi rolled her eyes. ‘Meet Lola.’

‘Is she a go-go dancer, same as you?’

‘High kicks like you wouldn’t believe,’ Violet said, opening the food bag flat to dispense with the need for plates because she’d forgotten to buy washing-up liquid. Burgers and fries, and he’d even thought to supply strawberry shakes. ‘My kind of food, thank you.’

He perched on one of the stools. ‘Guessed as much.’

She wasn’t certain if being thought of as a burger kind of girl was a compliment or not.

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