Hello there,
It's Mandy here.
Thanks for joining me tonight and welcome back to Diary of a Provincial Lady by E.
M.
Delafield.
I mentioned before the last episode that Delafield and Dashwood had got married and moved to Kentisbear in Devon.
It was here that Edmay joined the Kentisbear Women's Institute and was elected president and she remained in that office until she died.
She also served as a Justice of the Peace from 1925.
The couple had two children Lionel and Rosamund.
So we've reached chapter 15 and before I begin please go ahead and make yourself really comfortable.
Settle down into your chair or your bed,
Relax your hands,
Soften your shoulders and release your jaw.
That's great and if you're ready then I shall begin.
March the 17th.
Travel up to London with Barbara Blenkinsop wearing new tweed who says she is going to spend a fortnight with old school friend at Streatham and is looking forward to the Italian art exhibition.
I say that I am too and ask after Mrs.
B.
Barbara says that she is wonderful.
We discuss girl guides and exchange surmises as to reason why Mrs.
T.
At the post office is no longer on speaking terms with Mrs.
L.
At the shop.
Later on conversation takes a more intellectual turn and we agree that the parish magazine needs brightening up.
I suggest a crossword puzzle and Barbara says a children's page.
Paddington is reached just as we decide it would be hopeless to try and get a contribution to the parish magazine from anyone really good such as Shaw,
Bennett or Goldsworthy.
I ask Barbara to tea at my club one day next week.
She accepts and we part.
Met by Rose who has a new hat and says that no one is wearing a brim which discourages me partly because I have nothing but brims and partly because I know only too well that I shall look my worst without one.
Confide this fear to Rose who says why not go to well-known beauty culture establishment and have a course of treatment there.
I look at myself in the glass,
See much room for improvement and agree to this only stipulating that all shall be kept secret as the grave as could not tolerate the idea of Lady B's comments should she ever come to hear of it.
Make appointment by telephone.
In the meantime,
Says Rose,
What about the Italian art exhibition?
She herself has already been four times.
I say yes,
Yes,
It is one of the things I've come to London for but should prefer to go earlier in the day.
Then,
Says Rose,
The first thing tomorrow morning?
To this I reply with every sign of reluctance that tomorrow morning must be devoted to registry offices.
Well,
Says Rose,
When shall we go?
Let us,
I urge,
Settle that a little later on when I know better what I am doing.
Can see that Rose thinks anything but well of me but she's too tactful to say more.
Quite realise that I shall have to go to the Italian exhibition sooner or later and I'm indeed quite determined to do so but feel certain that I shall understand nothing about it when I do get there and shall find myself involved in terrible difficulties when asked my impressions afterwards.
Rose's cook,
As usual,
Produces marvellous dinner and I remember with shame and compassion that Robert at home is sitting down to minced beef and macaroni cheese followed by walnuts.
Rose says that she is taking me to dinner tomorrow with distinguished woman writer who has marvellous collection of jade to meet still more distinguished professor,
Female and others.
Decide to go and buy an evening dress tomorrow regardless of overdraft.
March the 18th,
Very successful day although Italian art exhibition still unvisited.
Memo,
Positively must go there before meeting Barbara for tea at my club.
Visit several registry offices and I'm told that maids do not like the country which I know already and that the wages I'm offering are low.
Come away from there depressed and decide to cheer myself up by purchasing evening dress which I cannot afford with present day waste which does not suit me.
Select the Brompton Road as likely to contain what I want and crawl up it scrutinising windows.
Come face to face with Barbara Blenkinsop who says how extraordinary we should meet here to which I reply that is so often the way when one comes to London.
She is,
She tells me,
Just on her way to the Italian exhibition.
I at once say goodbye and plunge into elegant establishment with expensive looking garments in the window.
Try on five dresses but find judgment of their merits very difficult as hair gets wilder and wilder and nose more devoid of powder.
I'm also worried by extraordinary and tactless tendency of saleswoman to emphasise the fact that all the colours I like are very trying by daylight but will be less so at night.
Finally settle on silver tissue with large bow.
Stipulate for its immediate delivery.
I'm told this is impossible.
Reluctantly agree to carry it away with me in cardboard box and go away wondering if it wouldn't have been better to choose the black chiffon instead.
Hope that beauty parlour experiment may enhance self-respect at present at rather low ebb but I'm cheered by going into Fuller's and sending boxes of chocolates to Robin and Vicky respectively.
Add peppermint creams for mademoiselle as an afterthought as otherwise she might find herself wounded.
Lunch on oxtail soup,
Lobster mayonnaise and cup of coffee as being menu furthest removed from that obtainable at home.
Beauty parlour follows.
Feel that a good deal could be written on this experience and even contemplate in connection with recent observations exchanged between Barbara B and myself brightening the pages of our parish magazine with the result of my reflections but on second thoughts abandon this as unlikely to appeal to the editor R Vicar.
I'm received by utterly terrifying person with dazzling complexion indigo blue hair and orange nails presiding over reception room downstairs but eventually passed on to extremely pretty little creature with auburn bob and charming smile.
I'm reassured.
I'm taken to discreet curtained cubicle and put into long chair.
Subsequent operations which take hours and hours appear to consist of the removal of hundreds of layers of dirt from my face.
These discreetly explained away by charming operator as a result of acidity.
She also plucks away portions of my eyebrows.
Very very painful operation.
Eventually emerge more or less unrecognizable and greatly improved.
Lose my head and buy foundation cream,
Rouge,
Powder,
Lipstick.
Foresee grave difficulty in reconciling Robert to the use of these appliances but decide not to think about this for the present.
Go back to Rose's flat in time to dress for dinner.
She tells me she spent the afternoon at the Italian exhibition.
March the 19th.
Rose takes me to dine with talented group of her friends connected with feminist movement.
I wear new frock and for once in my life I'm satisfied with my appearance but still regret great aunt's diamond ring now brightening pawnbroker's establishment in Backstreet Plymouth.
I'm however compelled to make a strong act of will in order to banish all recollection of bills that will subsequently come in from beauty parlor and dressmaker.
I'm able to succeed in this largely owing to charms of distinguished feminists all as kind as possible.
Well-known professor concerning whom I have previously consulted Rose as to the desirability of reading up something about molecules or other kindred topic for conversational purposes completely overcomes me by producing with a charming smile two cigarette cards as she has heard that I collect them for Robin.
After this throw all idea of molecules to the wind and I'm happier for the rest of the evening in consequence.
Editor of well-known literary weekly also present and actually remembers that we met before at literary club dinner.
I discover towards the end of the dinner that she has not visited the Italian exhibition and give Rose a look that I hope she takes to heart.
Cocktails and holy admirable dinner further brighten the evening.
I sit next to editor and she rather rashly encourages me to give my opinion of her paper.
I do so freely thanks to cocktail and editors charming manners which combine to produce in me the illusion that my words are witty valuable and thoroughly well worth listening to.
I'm but too well aware that later in the night I shall wake up in cold sweat and view this scene in retrospect with very different feelings as to my own part in it.
Rose and I take our leave just before midnight sharing taxi with very well-known woman dramatist.
Should much like Lady B to know this and have every intention of making casual mention to her of it at earliest possible opportunity.
To be continued.
