Act of Will - Barbara Taylor Bradford

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the window, it was the one piece of clothing displayed. Next to it, accessories were scattered on the floor; a picture hat of cream leghorn, a parasol of ruffled cream silk, and three long strands of pearls. All had epitomized true elegance to Audra, but most particularly the dress. It was highly impractical, obviously costly and very, very beautiful. She had gazed at it for ages, not knowing when or where she would ever wear it, and yet aching to own it just the same.

      Even so she had hung back, would not budge when Gwen, shrewdly observing the expression of longing on her face, had pushed open the door and insisted they go in and ask the price. Despite Audra’s reluctance and her adamant refusal to enter the shop, Gwen had obviously had no intention of being thwarted. She had taken Audra’s arm in a vice-like grip and frogmarched her into Madame Stella’s.

      Although both girls had expected the dress to be expensive, the two of them had been stunned, nevertheless, when they had learned that it cost three guineas. Audra had made to leave at once. But the redoubtable Gwen had restrained her, and had somehow managed to manoeuvre her into the fitting room before she could make a graceful escape. Not wanting to create an embarrassing scene in front of the sales lady, Audra had had no option but to try on the dress.

      It was the colour that captivated her – a clear bright blue that had reminded her of the delphiniums at High Cleugh. She had not needed Gwen to tell her that it suited her to perfection; she had seen herself in the cheval mirror.

      Indeed, Audra had been momentarily taken aback by her own reflection that afternoon. For the first time in some years she had acknowledged to herself that for once she looked quite pretty. Mostly she referred to herself as a ‘Plain Jane’, which she genuinely believed to be the truth. But in this she did herself an injustice.

      Audra Kenton was not beautiful in the strictest sense but neither was she plain. She was in a category somewhere in between. There was a certain stubbornness in her well-defined face. This was reflected in the determined set of her chin and in her firm and resolute mouth, which was quite beautiful when she smiled. Her best features were a faultless, creamy complexion, glossy light brown hair glazed with a golden sheen in the summer, and lovely eyes. These were the most spectacular thing about her. They were large, set wide apart, thickly fringed with golden-brown lashes and accentuated by finely arched brows. But it was their colour that was so memorable and caused people to look at her twice. They were of a blue so deep and so vivid it was startling.

      As Audra had stared back at herself in the mirror of the fitting room, she had not failed to notice how the blue of the muslin intensified their depth of colour. She also saw that the ‘flapper’ style of the dress was flattering and did wonders for her. Audra was small, only five feet two inches, and her lack of height was a constant source of irritation to her. Yet despite her diminutive size she was nicely proportioned, and the simple cut of the frock emphasized her pretty figure, whilst its short skirt, cut on the cross so that it flared out, drew attention to her shapely legs and slender ankles.

      And so in the end, after some indecision on her part because of its price, and worried whisperings with Gwen, she had finally bought the dress. To make up the three pounds three shillings needed, Audra had used her entire savings of two pounds twelve shillings, every other penny in her purse – which was all she had in the world – plus one and six borrowed from Gwen.

      ‘Don’t look so glum,’ Gwen had whispered, whilst they had been waiting for the sales lady to wrap the dress. ‘It’s worth every penny. Besides, it’s about time you treated yourself to something nice.’

      There was no question in Audra’s mind that the dress was the most beautiful thing she had owned since she was a child. And a memory had stirred, a memory of another time when she had come to Harrogate shopping – with her mother and Uncle Peter. It had been 1919, just after he had returned from the Great War. She had been twelve and he had bought her a pink party frock which had entranced her just as much as the blue muslin.

      As they left Madame Stella’s, Audra had told Gwen of that particular trip and the pretty pink frock, had confided more about her past life and Gwen had been agog and full of questions. Audra, who was a private person and reserved by nature, had nonetheless answered some of them, not wanting to offend Gwen by appearing secretive. Later, arms linked, they had taken a leisurely stroll along The Stray, the stretch of green common carpeted with lovely flowers which made a natural tapestry of brilliant colour underneath the shady trees. Then Gwen had taken them to Betty’s Café, the posh tea-room on The Parade overlooking The Stray, and had generously paid for them both, since Audra had spent all of her cash. She had also loaned her the money for her ticket back to Ripon, just as she had promised she would when Audra had been wavering in Madame Stella’s. And Audra had reminded herself yet again how lucky she was to have Gwen for her friend.

      At the end of their day’s excursion, on the way to the bus stop, they had passed the Arcadian Rooms, where tea dances were held every afternoon in the Palm Court. Everyone knew that this was the place to go, the smart spot in town where the local swells foxtrotted and tangoed to the strains of Stan Stanton and His Syncopated Strollers.

      Both young women had been itching to visit the Palm Court for weeks, and Gwen, who had learned the Charleston from her brother, had been teaching it to Audra in their off-duty hours. Audra had been astonished and thrilled when Gwen had announced she was taking them to a tea dance at the Palm Court on her birthday. ‘It’ll be my treat, my birthday present,’ Gwen had said, beaming at her. ‘And you’ll wear your new dress and everyone will admire you in it.’ The two of them had been bursting with excitement and anticipation as they had ridden on the bus back to Ripon, and they had been counting the days ever since.

      But there would be no trip to Harrogate after all. No tea dance at the Palm Court of the Arcadian Rooms. No one to admire her or the new dress. Audra sighed. Earlier she had planned to wear it just for her own pleasure, although she had not been quite sure where she would go in it all by herself. But now she changed her mind.

      Audra was nothing if not practical, and it struck her that it would be foolish to risk ruining it, or getting it crumpled and soiled. Far wiser to save the frock for another special occasion, she reasoned. And there’s bound to be one in the future, now that I have a friend like Gwen. Perhaps we’ll go to the church Garden Fête in August, and then there’s Gwen’s birthday in September. We must celebrate that. Yes, something’s bound to come up, she reassured herself, her natural optimism surfacing as it invariably did.

      Audra was blessed with a sunny disposition and a cheerful personality, and it was these traits, coupled with her strong will and intelligence, which had saved her in the past. They helped her to cope with her problems in the most positive way. She never let her troubles burden her for very long, sought always to solve them with expediency. And if this was not feasible, she tried not to dwell on them unnecessarily.

      Now she roused herself, took the blue frock off the bed and returned it to the wardrobe in the corner of the room.

      After she had slipped out of her blue-and-white-striped nurse’s uniform and put it away, she peered at the other garments hanging there, wondering what to wear for her walk in the country.

      Although she did not have an extensive wardrobe, the clothes she did own were of good quality, and because she was fastidious they were never anything but immaculate. For economic reasons, Audra made all of her summer clothes herself, and these were mostly light-weight dresses in the darker spectrum of colours; to her practical turn of mind these were guaranteed to wear better than the paler shades. Finally her hand came to rest on a navy cotton dress with a dropped waistline and a sailor collar trimmed with white. She pulled it out, found her black leather walking shoes with flat heels, and began to dress.

      Suddenly Audra thought of Gwen. How self-centred I’m being, she chastised herself. Here am I, concerned about my birthday, when Gwen has a sick mother to nurse. Audra wished she could go to Horsforth today, to help Gwen, but it was much too far to travel with only an afternoon free. Poor Gwen must be run off her feet, not to mention dreadfully worried, she thought. Then her face brightened as she adjusted the collar of her dress, pivoted to look at herself in the small mirror standing on the chest of drawers. Gwen’s father was a doctor, and her brother Charlie was a medical student at Leeds University.

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