Wednesday was Fellows and Members Day at the Chelsea Flower Show.
Excluding the general public didn't mean the event was any less crowded, it just implied people were better dressed.
Izzy stood in front of the Great Pavilion, a huge white tent erected on the grounds of London's Royal Hospital, next to the Thames. The weather was glorious, and she shielded her eyes against the sunshine with her show's catalogue. A few steps away, protected by a parasol, her mother chatted with a wrinkled lady whom Izzy thought was a duchess. Beads of sweat were already forming on her temples, and she squinted to try and spot Mr. Lang among the crowd of men in grey suits and women wearing navy blue.
"Any sign of him?"
Vita's question startled her.
"Not yet," Izzy said, keeping her tone careless to hide her blossoming anxiety. "What time is it?"
Next to Vita, Archie had his hat tipped back, his shirtsleeves rolled up and his jacket thrown over his shoulders. He took a gold watch on a chain out of his pocket and announced:
"Ten past eleven."
Izzy bit her lower lip, once more scanning the crowd.
"Don't worry," Vita said. "The poor man has never been here. He must be wandering the gardens, still looking for the entrance to the pavilion."
Izzy gave her a tight smile, grateful for her reassurance, but unconvinced. What if he had stood her up? How embarrassing would that be? Half the year's debutantes were here today, along with their illustrious families. Izzy needed to be seen with a beau on her arm.
"We'll wait," Archie added, in an unexpected show of support.
Vita smiled at him, and Izzy sighed, annoyed. If they were back to being as thick as thieves, it could only mean there were no more secrets between them. Vita must have told him everything, yet she still kept her best friend in the dark. Izzy couldn't see what made her trust Archie more that she would confide in him rather than in her.
Izzy glanced at Vita's hands. She wore long white gloves, which were out of place in this weather. The rest of her outfit was the latest fashion: a nautical dress with white flat shoes and a white crochet cloche hat.
"My apologies!"
Mr. Lang appeared among the crowd, hurrying towards her with his hat in his hand. His black hair was slicked back with brilliantine. Like Archie, he wore a cream tailored suit, but he had the elegance of having kept his jacket on despite the heat.
He apologised again for his tardiness – he had indeed been lost – and greeted them all. When he flashed his dazzling smile at Izzy, she forgot about her nervousness. Then he offered her his arm, and her whole body tingled when she took it.
Inside the pavilion, the breeders' floral displays were a marvel. They walked along the crowded aisles, sometimes stopping to look at the plants labelled with their Latin names or to chat with another debutante and her suitor.
"Which flower is your favourite?" Mr. Lang asked, as they made their way between stands, a few steps ahead of Vita and Archie.
"I like peonies," Izzy said.
It was a lie. She didn't know much about flowers, and peonies were her mother's favourite flowers, not hers. But she wasn't about to admit this to Mr. Lang.
"Allow me to buy you a bunch, then," he said.
Izzy let out a delighted laugh.
"I'm afraid you can't," she explained. "Nothing you see here is for sale before Friday. People come to look from Monday to Thursday, and on the last day of the week, they come to buy what they've reserved."
Mr. Lang chuckled, a lovely sound. "It must be quite mad!"
"It is," Izzy nodded, "that's why we don't come here on Friday. My mother sends the gardener with a list of plants and he braves the crowds to buy what she ordered."
"Your mother sounds like a very reasonable person."
Izzy couldn't stop grinning. He was such a perfect gentleman. Her mother was anything but reasonable, however it was wonderful to hear him pay her such a nice compliment. She squeezed his arm a little tighter and hoped her face wasn't flushed like a tomato in the heat of the tent.
They walked by Hillier's large central stand, where the flowers were all the same height. It was an explosion of colours and smells, with a display boasting hyacinths, begonias, geraniums and roses, and more plants and flowers Izzy couldn't recognise.
Vita and Archie caught up with them at that point. Izzy's initial annoyance at being interrupted in the middle of her much-needed alone time with Mr. Lang vanished when she saw Vita's pale face.
"Vita isn't feeling so well," Archie said. "We're going outside."
"Shall we join you?" Mr. Lang asked, concern tugging at his eyes. "Do you require any assistance?"
Although Izzy appreciated his helpful reaction, she wasn't keen on leaving the pavilion so soon, especially to watch him fret over Vita. Besides, her Mary Jane shoes, which were so elegant they had seemed a natural choice of footwear for this occasion, were now killing her, and she didn't feel like walking in the gardens.
But Archie saved the day by shaking his head. "She just needs some air. We'll meet you outside when you're ready."
Vita gave them an apologetic smile and Izzy waved at her. "Feel better! We'll see you in a minute."
Mr. Lang's gaze trailed after them as they exited the tent, and Izzy tugged at his arm to remind him of her presence.
"She'll be fine," she said when he finally returned his attention to her, "she just doesn't fare well in the heat. It happened to her yesterday at Madame Vacani's School of Dancing and she recovered in no time at all."
They resumed their stroll along the stands, and Izzy moved the conversation from Madame Vacani's dance lessons to her own debutante ball. When she was certain Mr. Lang had forgotten about Vita, she asked casually:
"Are you busy on 11th June?"
***
Outside the Great Pavilion, the parallel rows of the show gardens lay in the sun. As soon as Vita breathed in the air outside, the world stopped spinning. Archie, his arm around her waist, guided her away from the crowds to a bench under an apple tree. In the foliage's shade, she sat down and pulled off her gloves. Her hands and forearms were hot, as if she was running a fever. The dark patterns hadn't changed at all, still black as coal and tattooed to her skin like ink.
Archie crouched down in front of her and took her hand in his.
"Does it hurt?"
She shook her head. "No. I'm just... really hot. Would you fetch me a glass of water?"
He stood up, his jaw working in hesitation. Vita closed her eyes for a brief moment, annoyed.
"Archie, it's the Chelsea Flower Show. There are a billion people here. No one's going to attempt to do anything to me, I can assure you. And if they do, I'll scream at the top of my lungs, all right?"
She stared at him until he strode away. He vanished inside the tent and she let out a sigh of relief. She really could do with a moment away from the crowd and she was desperate for a glass of water. Her blood could have been boiling inside her for the way she was burning up.
She wondered how long she could go on like this, pretending she wasn't ill. There was something wrong with her since her return, but admitting it to a doctor was a step she wasn't yet willing to take, for fear of irreparably turning her life upside down. As unwell as she was at the moment, she couldn't imagine that being locked away in a hospital would help matters.
Her bench was in a grove of fruit trees, and out of the way. Visitors walked around it rather than in it, leaving her blissfully alone.
She closed her eyes again, and the smells of lemons and pears filled her nose, far less overpowering than the flowers inside the pavilion. A breeze of fresh air reached her here, whereas it had been dreadfully suffocating inside the pavilion. Branches quivered on her left, and she opened her eyes, expecting a bird.
Instead, a huge shadow loomed over her, cast by a creature hidden by the trees. She muffled a scream, and scrambled backwards on the bench. A growl rose from behind the branches, like a lion's, or a bear's. Vita had seen both at the circus, but she couldn't pinpoint which sounded more like the large creature. Claws scratched against the ground, and the shadow moved closer. Her heart hammering away, Vita stood up from the bench on unsteady legs and retreated towards the opening in the trees.
And she bumped into something.
She jumped, letting out a strangled cry of fright, and found Archie staring at her with wide eyes and a glass of water in hand.
"Whatever is the matter with you?"
Vita turned around, and pointed at the shadow of the creature with shaky fingers. There was nothing there. Without hesitation, Archie marched inside the grove and inspected it.
"What did you see?"
Vita opened her mouth, but no words came.
"You're pale as a sheet, what did you see?"
"I don't know, I thought I..."
Vita wrapped her arms around her chest and composed herself. What had she seen? Nothing. A shadow. She was dehydrated and tired. Anything she thought she'd seen or heard was the product of her overheated mind.
When she stopped shaking, she extended her hand to Archie, who gave her the glass of water. She gulped it down in a minute while he glanced around the grove with suspicion. But everything was normal, the noise of conversations drifting towards them from the gardens.
"What did you think you saw?" Archie asked when she handed him the glass back.
A monster. He was understanding and patient with her, but if she said that, he'd think she'd become hysterical and he'd call a doctor.
"Nothing. I must have dozed off, or fainted. I heard a sound that woke me up."
Archie surveyed her, his eyes harsh, but he didn't press her further. Instead, he offered her his arm.
"Let's go back," he said. "We'll tell Lady Rhodes you're not feeling well and she'll take you to the Mayfair house."
He led her to the pavilion. Vita turned around to check the grove, but there was no creature in the trees, and no growling coming from the branches. In the sunshine, the gardens were welcoming again.
***
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