…

I had never been to a ball and had only seen what one was like on TV.

When I first received the invitation, on a gold embossed card with old style and writing in ink, real ink, I was astonished.  I was not from a class of people whom one would associate with such a high-society event.

My father, when I had shown him the invitation, said it had obviously been sent to me by mistake, that it was some other William Benjamin Oldacre, not me.  When I showed him the envelope with my address on it, he then said someone was playing a game.

I was inclined to believe him, so I called the RSVP number and spoke to a lady by the name of Charlotte Bingham, who had a very posh voice.

I told her my name, and then told her there must be some mistake.

“We don’t make mistakes, Mr Oldacre.”

“To be honest, ma’am, I am not a man of means, if you take my meaning.”  I wanted to say I was just one of the rabble, but it seemed a little too blunt.

“You don’t need to be, to be a respectable and respected young man.  Miss Emily said that you would find some excuse, and her instructions were if you were to call, to insist you come, and if you were having difficulties to call her on the cell number she gave you.  I’m marking you down as a yes, and I look forward to meeting you.”  The line went dead before I could reply.

Miss Emily.

My first encounter with her was anything but cordial, in fact, I had called her lazy, indolent, egotistical, annoying, and overprivileged, all in one breath.  She was the typical rich brat to who the rules didn’t apply, the person who didn’t have to wait in queues like everyone else and whose schedules were made for other people.

Sadly, all the boys rich or poor grovelled at her feet, so it was a shock to her when I told her exactly what I thought of her.  From there, we ignored each other, as much as it was possible, until a week before when we just happened to be in the cafeteria at the same time.  I had been running late and almost walked away.

I joined Xavier in the queue, just as I noticed her with three of her equally bratty friends and a few people ahead in the queue.

“You must be starving,” Xavier said, “your nemesis is just ahead, and being her usual obnoxious self.”

“Unfortunately, hunger trumps common-sense.”

It was precisely the moment she turned around and saw me.  Sometimes, she would make a sarcastic comment, but most of the time, she just ignored me.  With one eye on her, I noticed as several others did, three boys, one of whom I knew, Oliver Richenburg, equally as entitled but not half as obnoxious, heading towards her.

It was clear if he was going over to her, that it was not a social call.  In fact, I had heard on the grapevine, the social media account that kept up with all the rumours about the so-called social set, they had had an acrimonious breakup when she posted some telling details about his life.  He had cheated on her, or so it was said, and it had spiralled out of control.

She had seen him steaming across the room, heading straight for her.  Everyone in the hall was on alert, expecting to get a front-row seat to a gigantic bust-up.

“Brace yourself, the proverbial was about to hit the fan.””

This means I’m not going to get anything to eat, and without food, well, I was not a happy person.  There was only one course of action.  I timed my arrival at the exact moment the two faced off.  Both were surprised to see me.

 “Just…”

Oliver was just about to launch into his opening argument when I glared at him and said, in a harsher tone than intended, “Before you launch into what I’m sure will be just the right amount of outrage, let me say this.  You’re an idiot.  You had a girlfriend that most of us would give a right arm just to be noticed for five seconds, and you cheated on her.  Wow, Oliver, you’re not going to have much of a married life if you can’t keep it in your pants.”  I turned on Emily, “And you, well, you know what I think of you, but seriously, who posts utter drivel on social media in a language that only cavemen could probably understand.  I’m sure I’ll get a spray before long, but quite clearly, we’ve all had enough.  Take your cat fight outside.”

“Who…”  She went from amused to angry in the blink of an eye.

“Who?  Who what?  Who cares.  Get out of here the pair of you before I do something I regret.”  I think I displayed just the right amount of unhinged insanity that they both left.

I looked over at the head of the queue; everyone was watching them leave.  “Shows over folks, let’s eat.”

That following few days before the invitation had been interesting, to say the least,.  I had gained an unwanted notoriety that raised my profile from the usual obscurity to fifteen seconds of fame, where people I didn’t know came up and told me it was about time both of them were put in their place, to there who just shook their head.  What was more disconcerting was that she now noticed me, and I was not sure if I wanted to be noticed.

Now, getting an invitation, just took it to a whole new level.  My first inclination was just to not go.  It was for me and a plus one.  There wasn’t a girl l knew to take but when my sister, two years older and a survivor of college histrionics, learned about the invitation she said we were going.  Darcy was more of a tomboy than the average girl of her age, and a lot tougher.  She’d also heard about the fracas in the canteen and had said, “You could do a lot better than to pine over what you can’t have”.

I told her I had no intention, and she just snorted, adding, “We’ll see.”  Now I really didn’t want to go, because she was going to find a new way to humiliate me.

And when the day arrived I was feeling quite sick.  I’d received a message on my phone that a car would be arriving at six to pick us up.  The RSVP lady was making sure I didn’t change my mind.  Darcy was, surprisingly, impressed.  And I was equally impressed to see the jeans and Polo shirt norm transform into a very beautiful young woman in the most amazing ball gown.  All I could say was, “Who are you and what have you done with my sister.”

At precisely six, there was a knock on the door, which my father opened.  It was a real-life chauffeur.  My father yelled out, even though we were waiting in the next room, “Your pumpkin has arrived.”  I was glad my misfortune was causing him amusement.  The chauffeur didn’t bat an eye.

It was not a pumpkin. It was a Rolls Royce, a car I’d heard of but never seen.

Darcy was thoughtful, having got past surprised. “I think she’s trying to impress you, Will.  Is there something going on that I need to know about?”

“I assure you she’s just trying to put me in my place. “w

I hadn’t taken much notice of where the ball was being held, but twenty minutes after being picked up I realised we were heading out of the city.  It meant it could only be in one place, the spider’s lair, the family home, a mansion you got to drive past and could barely see behind the surrounding wall.  Reputed to have more bedrooms than in the houses in my street, my father was amused that one family could live in such a place without getting lost.

We were invited to the castle, and it was becoming more like Cinderella with each passing minute.  Sweeping majestically through the gates it was like passing through a portal into another world.  It was a moment not lost on Darcy, who squeezed my hand and whispered, “Just remember their real people just like us.”

I got the impression she didn’t quite believe it herself.

It was a clear run-up to the majestic front entrance to the building, which seemed small but almost overwhelming close-up.  The car stopped at the bottom of red carpeted stairs leading up into the house.  The doors were opened by two men dressed in uniform.  At the bottom of the stairs, waiting, for a very elegantly dressed woman.

She smiled when we reached her.  “William, Darcy.  Welcome.”

“You’re the lady on the phone.”

“Yes.  My name is Charlotte, Miss Emily asked me to greet you and make sure you know where to go.”

Darcy was now looking somewhat lost in awe. 

She asked, “Is this place for real.  It’s like a fairy tale.”

“It has that initial wow factor, but that wears off after a while.  Come, follow me.”

We walked slowly up the red-carpeted stairs and into the foyer with columns, a marble tiles floor, and the biggest chandelier I’d ever seen.  I was expecting to see a fountain in the middle, but there wasn’t, just a table, a very large vase, and a flower arrangement that defied description.

We turned left through a portico, to where two more men dressed in uniform stood on either side, with another.  We stopped, and Charlotte said to him, “Mr William Oldacre and Miss Darcy Oldacre.”

He read out our names by way of introduction to the people milling in the anteroom, but perhaps more for the line of people down the side where it seemed we were to be greeted.  Charlotte led us to the head of the line, Miss Emily’s father.

“Mr James Edward Rothstein, may I present William Oldacre and his sister, Darcy.”

It was like greeting royalty, but I was not inclined to bow.  Darcy was by now amused by the formality, even though she looked as though she belonged.  She was certainly as beautiful in her gown as the others.

He held out his hand for a handshake.  “So you are the young man who told Emily she needs to learn proper English before she uses those ghastly social media apps, I think they call them.  I have to say I could not agree with you more.”

“Sir, I didn’t really mean anything by it.”

“Well, your words seemed to have had the desired effect, and I thank you.  Perhaps before the night is out, you could deliver some more good advice.  She won’t listen to us.”

“I think that race is run.  She’s not likely to speak to me, and I’m not sure why she asked me to come.”

“She didn’t, I did, but I suspect she’ll either thank me or hate me more.”  He sighed.  “Us men will never understand women.  The night is young, my boy, have fun.”

With that, I was dismissed and sent to Emily’s mother, Theresa, her older sister, Jasmine, her other sister, Kendra, and twin brothers, Samuel and Thomas.  That left Emily, who needed no introduction.

It was hard to tell if she was amused or angry.  I simply put a frown on my face, thinking it would preclude any conversation.

“Your father has a unique sense of humour, Emily,” I said.

“He does, indeed.”

Darcy took a step back and looked at the pair of us, then smiled.  “I can see why he did.  I’m Darcy, Will’s older sister.  You piss him off, you piss me off, and that you don’t want to do.”

“Not more than I already have?”

“I’ve no doubt there’s a very simple explanation for it, but let me sum it up in one sentence.  Try to see what’s in front of you.  Actually,” she looked at me, too, “It’s good advice for the both of you.  Now, I was promised top-shelf booze, where’s the bar?”

Charlotte had watched the exchange with an amused expression.  I suspect she knew every one of Emily’s foibles.  “I’ll take you.  I think I need a drink too.”

Emily looked at me.  “You said you would give your right arm to be noticed.  Well, you’ve been noticed.  And when I’m done here, you and I have a few things to discuss.  And your name is down on my card for the first dance.”

“What makes you think I can dance.”

“You can, so don’t tell me otherwise.”

“What makes you think I want to dance with you?”

“Because when you do, I will answer three of your questions.  Anything.  And you have to answer just one for me.  Deal?”

“This is not one of your little schemes, is it?

She shook her head.  “Don’t make me stamp my foot in annoyance William.  I promise you, what you see is what you get.  No schemes, no tricks, no lies.”

It was too good to be true.  This was a rabbit hole I didn’t want to go down, but did I have a choice?

I nodded.  “OK.  Where’s the bar.  This is going to require fortification.

I stayed at the bar, slowly working my way through several bottles of beer that I’d never heard of, while I watched Emily, and the family, finish greeting the guests, and then mingle with everyone on a less formal basis.

There were over two hundred people but the ballroom did not seem crowded.  People gathered together in groups, and the Rothsteins dutifully stopped at each for a few minutes.  It was interesting to see Emily behave much like an ambassador, a side of her I had never seen.

Every now and then, once she knew where I was, she looked over, discreetly, and smiled.

It was not lost on me what Darcy had said, and the few words we had when I reached the bar were surprising.  “She likes you a lot, you know.  Knowing you, though, you’ll blow a good opportunity through prejudice or stupidity or even both.  I know you like her to William, no one professed their disdain more who does not love their nemesis.  Don’t make me have to thump some sense into you.”

She was right, of course.  I fell in love with Emily the first time I saw her, knowing that we could never be together, which made it frustrating and annoying, and went a long way towards explaining why I was hostile towards her.  If she despised me, it couldn’t go anywhere.  Now, here, that façade was going to be impossible to keep up.

Then, all of a sudden, it was time for dancing, the orchestra, yes it was a real orchestra, was playing the first stains of a Viennese Waltz.  Perhaps if I just sidled along the bar towards the exit…

“I can dance too, you know.”  Emily must have known I would try to disappear.  “Many, many painful lessons when I could have been out with my friends.  No possible use for it on this earth, but there it is.  Take my hand, William, show me there’s more than just a grumpy man under that immaculate tuxedo.”

As they say, the gauntlet had been thrown down.

About twenty couples had taken to the floor and were arranging themselves in a circle, and we all ended up facing each other.

The music started.  I bowed to Emily.  Emily curtsied to me.  She took my hand, did a twirl, and we came together, very close.

Could she hear my heart beating?  It was almost racing.  Just standing there was perhaps the most intoxicating moment of my life.

Then it began, first one way, then the other.  I kept an eye on those on either side, maintaining distance.

“You’re not counting your steps, are you?”  We parted, and she came back, close in, and whispered in my ear.

“No.  Just making sure it’s the right one.”

Out again, back again, close, going around and around, trying not to get dizzy.  It was the one thing that bothered me in classes.

“Is this close enough for you?”

“Is that your one question?”

She frowned.  “No.”

Concentration, then. “Ask your first.”

“Have you always been this entitled, bratty child?”

“Yes.”

Well, that didn’t give me much to work with.  At least she admitted it.

She went out, doing a twirl, then came back, a smile on her face.

“Next?”

“Why am I here?  I’m not in the same stratosphere you are, and it seems pointless.  Except if you want to point out to everyone here that I don’t belong.”

“What was it you said one, flying at 30,000 feet without oxygen.  Put it this way, you wouldn’t know if you were not there with me.  Get ready, I call it the skipping bit.”

I’d forgotten about it.  It was not long but brought many a learner undone. 

Over, twirl, back, a close hug, then a little separation, hand behind her back, arm on my shoulder.

I thought about that answer.  Did she think I was her equal?  I certainly didn’t think so.

“You didn’t answer why I am here?

“Because I asked my father to invite you.”

“Third question, “Why would you invite me given our history?”

“Hold that thought, we’re changing partners for a circuit.”

Then, all of a sudden she was gone, and opposite me was one of her friends, whose look told me I really shouldn’t be here.  Whatever Emily’s motives were, they were hers alone.

One minute and twenty seconds of utter silence, with a girl who I would never get to dance with within a million years, from a world I could never expect to be part of.

In the end, “Well done Will.  Just don’t disappoint her.”  And then she was gone, and Emily was back.

“Where you come from does not define who you are Will, and I failed to realise that.  We got off on the wrong foot, metaphorically, and I want to change that, starting now.  Now I have just one question, and you have to answer honestly.”

The thought of what she might ask filled me with dread.

“It took me a while to work out why you hated me so much.  One of your questions proved it, and you think you’re not good enough for me.  Most boys pretend to love me so they can get what they want, but they don’t love me the way you do, do they?”

Cornered, with nowhere to go.

Stop, twirl, out, back, together.  I wished it would end and I could run away.

“Would it matter what I said?”

“Yes, William, it would.”

“Then no they don’t, and yes, I do, have done so from the first day I saw you.  Make of that what you will, but it’s the truth.”

And, then, the dance was done.  A bow, a curtsey.  She could have walked away.  Instead, she held out her hand, and I took it.  She was quite literally the most enchanting girl in the room, and for the moment, she wanted to be with me.

She smiled.  “Your name is in number two place on my dance card, so there’s no escape.”

“And probably number three.”

She nodded.  “Oh, and in case you haven’t realized it yet, for some unknown reason, I seem to be in love with you, too.  As my father often says, the night is young, and we have much to explore.”

…

© Charles Heath  2023