Peacock Emporium Read Online Free PDF

game involving a young man with a fox’s tail attached to his jacket who went hurtling through the house, hotly pursued by several of his pink-coated friends with hunting horns. One had slipped and fallen hard on the waxed floor, knocking himself unconscious by the main staircase. But another had poured the contents of a stirrup cup into his mouth, and he had come to, spluttering and gagging, got up and carried on the chase as if nothing had happened. At one o’clock Vivi, who was wishing she could go back to her room, said she would accompany Alexander to the blackjack table where, unexpectedly, he won seven pounds. In a fit of exuberance, he told her she should have the lot. The way he said that she was his ‘lucky charm’ made her feel a bit nauseous – that, or the amount of champagne she had drunk. At half past one she saw Mrs Bloomberg in animated discussion with her husband in what looked like his private office. Just visible was a pair of prostrate female legs, in shimmering oyster tights. Vivi recognised them as belonging to a red-haired girl she had seen earlier, being sick out of a window.
    At two o’clock, as some unseen church-tower timepiece confirmed the hour, Vivi was forced to acknowledge that Douglas was not going to keep his promise, that she was not going to find herself held gently in his arms, that there was going to be no longed-for kiss at the end of the evening. Surrounded by the chaos around her, the girls shrieking, their faces now flushed and bleary, the boys sprawled drunkenly on sofas or, occasionally, brawling incompetently, all she wanted was to be alone in her room and cry without worrying over what anyone else thought of her.
    ‘Xander, I think I’m going to go to my room.’
    His arm was slung casually round her waist and he was talking to one of his friends. He turned a surprised face towards her. ‘What?’
    ‘I’m really tired. I hope you don’t mind. I’ve had a perfectly lovely evening, thank you very much.’
    ‘You can’t go to bed now.’ He reeled backwards theatrically. ‘Party’s only just starting.’
    His ears, she noted, were scarlet, and his eyelids had slid half-way down over his eyes. ‘I’m sorry. You’ve been awfully kind. If you bump into him, would you mind telling Douglas I’ve – I’ve retired for the evening?’
    A voice behind Alexander barked, ‘Douglas? I don’t think Douglas is going to be too bothered.’ Several of the men exchanged glances and let off a rapid volley of laughter.
    Something about their expressions left her unwilling to ask them to explain themselves. Or perhaps it was just that, having felt like everybody’s naïve, frumpy cousin all evening, she had no wish to reinforce that view of herself. She made her way out of the gaming room, her arms crossed miserably across her chest, no longer caring how she looked. The people around her were too drunk to pay any attention anyway. The band were having a break, sitting eating from a tray of canapés, their instruments propped against chairs, while Dusty Springfield sang over loudspeakers, a melancholy melody that made Vivi set her face against tears.
    ‘Vivi, you can’t go up yet.’ Alexander was right behind her. He reached out a hand and pulled her round by her shoulder. The angle of his head on his neck told her everything she needed to know about how much he’d had to drink.
    ‘I’m really sorry, Alexander. Honestly, I’ve had a super time. But I’m tired.’
    ‘Come . . . come and have something to eat. They’ll be doing kedgeree in the breakfast room soon.’ He was holding her arm, his grip a little tighter than was comfortable. ‘You know . . . you look very pretty in your . . . your dress.’ His eyes were now fixed on her embonpoint , and alcohol had removed any trace of reticence from his gaze. ‘Very nice,’ he said. And then, just in case she had missed the point, ‘Very, very nice.’
    Vivi stood in an agony of indecision. To turn away