A Distant Journey Read online

  ‘How cute!’ said Cindy.

  ‘Sounds like a lot of work,’ said Babs. ‘Is that necessary in a dress shop?’

  Alice threw her hands in the air dramatically. ‘Of course it is. Haven’t you noticed how people browse and try things on then go away for lunch to “think about it” and never come back? If they can eat on the spot, they’ll buy at the same time. I just know it.’

  Cindy looked at Babs, who gave her a wry smile. Alice certainly was formidable. Although The Sun Garden was exclusively Alice’s venture, the two sisters talked about the new shop together: which suppliers to contact, how to get the best deals. Cindy returned to the bedroom and changed into her regular clothes. Listening to her aunts talk, she felt her mind wander. She loved her aunts and was enjoying her time with them, but sometimes she still felt a sense of restlessness. She would never say that to her aunts, because she didn’t want to appear ungrateful, and it wasn’t as though she wasn’t having a good time. She wasn’t trapped in Spokane any more, but at this time of year there were few visitors to Palm Springs, and Cindy had begun to feel bored. She found that she was counting down the days to the start of the college year.

  *

  Cindy found a welcome distraction in talking to her aunt’s neighbours, Deidre and Sol, who could be very interesting company. It was Deidre who introduced her to Adsila, an Agua Caliente Indian who came in once a week to do the ironing and help clean the Kramers’s apartment.

  Adsila lived on Section 14 on the edge of the town with her quiet and gentle husband Francis, who brought his alfalfa, dates and figs into town to sell each week at the market.

  When she had the opportunity, Cindy loved to talk to the Indian woman as she ironed, although Adsila was usually quite reticent. One day, when they were talking, Adsila mentioned that she would have to catch the bus home that evening as her husband had to remain in town longer than usual and she didn’t want to stay back. Deidre, who was obviously fond of the woman, immediately offered to drive her, and Cindy asked if she could come too.

  Deidre drove out to Section 14, which wasn’t far from the centre of Palm Springs, but the contrast between the two places was startling. The dwellings in Section 14 were made of bark and mud brick and it was clear that most of the living took place outside, by the open cooking fires. Most of the buildings had been erected before the building codes of Palm Springs had even existed, and Cindy was shocked to see that they were not much better than shanties.

  Adsila got out of the car and asked the others to follow her, ushering them over to her little house with its dirt floor. They sat outside on stools as Adsila brought out some baked corn chips on a woven tray, and dates in a bowl.

  When Cindy admired the beautiful woven baskets and painted clay cooking pots outside the door, Adsila looked pleased. ‘I make these,’ she said in her softly spoken way.

  Cindy thought that the fine workmanship and intricate patterns, so tightly and smoothly woven together, made the baskets more like works of art than merely functional pieces. After they’d eaten, Adsila took them into a thatched granary where her food supplies were kept and showed them the dried grasses she used for weaving. When Cindy saw the huge storage baskets there, she was enthralled. She could see Adsila was also working on other baskets, their tightly bound coils kept in water so the grass stayed flaccid and soft and easier to weave.

  ‘What do these patterns mean, Adsila?’ asked Cindy as they sat down beside her on the beaten-earth floor.

  In her careful, deliberate manner, Adsila explained that they were symbols for what she saw around her, the jagged yucca plants, delicate desert flowers, lightning in the sky, bird feathers and the whorls of a dust storm.

  ‘Some patterns are traditional, but some I created myself,’ she explained modestly. ‘After white people came here many years ago, our people began to use metal and stopped making baskets. But I think weaving is important to maintain our culture, so I continue to make them. There are some white people who value what we do and like to collect our work.’

  Cindy was fascinated as she watched Adsila’s brown leathery hands demonstrate how she twisted the grass coils so smoothly and expertly. Smiling, Adsila handed the work to Cindy and slowly guided her hands, showing her the weaving technique the Indian woman had made look so simple and fluid.

  ‘It’s quite hard. I feel so clumsy.’ Cindy laughed. ‘What patience you need for this. Thank you so much for showing me.’

  The women got to their feet, brushing the dust from their skirts, and, farewelling Adsila, made their way back to the car. Suddenly Adsila ran back into the hut. ‘Please wait,’ she called. A minute later she appeared at Cindy’s window and pushed a small woven bowl towards her.

  ‘From me,’ she said simply.

  ‘That’s so generous. Thank you so much!’ exclaimed Cindy. She clasped Adsila’s hands in thanks as Deidre started the engine. As the dust whirled under their wheels, Cindy waved to Adsila.

  ‘It’s a shame their crafts aren’t more appreciated,’ Cindy commented to Deidre on the way home. ‘Aunt Alice should buy some. They would make a lovely decoration for her new shop. She could even sell them.’

  But when Cindy showed Alice the woven basket, her aunt dismissed the idea.

  ‘Good heavens, Cindy. Whatever are you thinking? I’m starting a fashionable dress shop, not opening an Indian trading store.’

  So Cindy put the woven bowl with its beautiful pattern in her room and treasured it.

  *

  Finally, the launch day of The Sun Garden arrived. Although the weather was still very hot and Palm Springs was bereft of tourists, Alice had decided to go ahead anyway.

  ‘Not much point in paying rent and not opening. There are enough locals to make it work, at least until the crowds start arriving again.’

  True to her word, Alice had organised a fashion parade at the Racquet Club. She had plenty of volunteer models, including Cindy, and considering that the event was out of season, a large crowd of women turned up. The guests sat under shady umbrellas that were set around the pool and Alice took centre stage with the microphone, describing each dress in detail. As the models made their way around the club’s pool and through the appreciative audience, the outfits were much admired. By the end of the parade, when everyone was milling around with cool drinks, it was clear that there had been enough interest and orders taken for the event to be declared a success.

  Although Cindy preferred to work in The Little Folk’s Cottage, Alice demanded that she also work at The Sun Garden once it had opened.

  ‘You need to expand your horizons,’ she said. ‘Selling baby clothes is too limiting.’

  Cindy had to admit that Aunt Alice certainly knew how to sell fashionable dresses.

  ‘Now listen to me, Cindy,’ Alice instructed her niece on her first day in the store. ‘When a woman shows an interest in something, don’t rush at her. Always check out the stock first. Know what sizes and colours we have and if we don’t have a bigger size, tell her the dress is the new hug-the-hip look, and it makes her look slim. If we don’t have the frock in green, casually mention that this season’s most fashionable colour is orange.’

  And Cindy had seen Alice in action. When one customer had managed to squeeze her rolls of fat into a sequinned cocktail dress and then asked seriously, ‘So, how do I look in this?’ Alice had clapped her hands to her face. ‘Madame, really … words fail me. Simply fail me.’ And proceeded to kiss her fingertips and gesture like a chef recommending the day’s special. Naturally, a sale was made. Cindy enjoyed working in the shop, although she never seemed to reach her aunt’s exacting standards.

  A short time after the shop opened, Cindy was thrilled when Deidre invited all the family, including Alice and Spencer to a big charity fundraiser at the Thunderbird Club. Pearl McCallum-McManus had a table and Bob Hope was to be the MC. Babs declined the invitation, even after Cindy had offered
to babysit Joey, saying that it really wasn’t her sort of thing. Cindy really wished that Babs would go out a bit more. It seemed a shame that such a lovely and attractive woman did not have a chance to socialise more.

  Wearing a full-skirted, pleated chiffon cocktail dress, and with her hair up in a French roll, Cindy looked older than her eighteen years. The young waiters, who’d returned home from college or had taken summer jobs, were clearly impressed. But Cindy took little notice of them; she was far too excited watching the celebrities as they moved around the room, chatting to each other or dancing to the band music.

  The round tables were covered with starched cloths and decorated with elaborate centrepieces of fresh flowers. The laughter and chatter, the band and the popular singer made the room noisy but exciting. There were raffles with fabulous prizes and the silent charity auction produced bids of dizzying sums. Most people danced the quickstep and slower-paced dances, but when the band played rock and roll numbers there were plenty of participants. For Cindy the whole atmosphere was like she imagined champagne to be: bubbles and light-headedness.

  She was sitting by herself at the table, as Sol and Deidre were on the dance floor and Alice had taken herself to the bathroom to freshen up, when Spencer came over to her with a friend.

  ‘What, no Alice? I wanted to introduce her to one of my favourite clients,’ he said to Cindy. Turning to his friend, he added, ‘This is Alice’s niece, Kirk. This is Cindy.’

  Cindy turned around and found herself looking at one of Hollywood’s biggest stars, Kirk Douglas.

  ‘How are you, Cindy?’ he asked. ‘Enjoying your night?’

  Cindy, completely starstruck, could only manage a faint, ‘Yes, Mr Douglas.’ He was so tanned, such blue eyes, such white teeth.

  ‘I suppose you’re on your college break,’ Kirk said.

  ‘I haven’t actually started yet. I go next week, Mr Douglas.’

  ‘Where are you enrolled?’

  ‘UC Santa Barbara. I’m so excited. Nervous too, though.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, that’s where my son Michael wants to go next year. I’ll have to tell him I’ve met one very pretty gal who goes there already. Do you think you could manage a dance with someone who has a son nearly your age?’

  ‘Of course! Thank you.’ Cindy couldn’t stop smiling, and for the next few minutes she could hardly believe she was twirling around the dance floor with one of Hollywood’s biggest film stars. After the dance, Kirk Douglas returned her to the table and wished her luck. When Alice came back, Cindy told her what had happened.

  ‘You were lucky,’ said her aunt. ‘Had I not been in the bathroom, he would have danced with me instead.’

  During the next week, Cindy couldn’t stop talking about the wonderful time she’d had, the people she’d seen and the sheer glamour and fun of it all. This was why she had left Spokane! And she was looking forward to going to college as well. With only days remaining till she left for Santa Barbara, she packed and repacked a dozen times in nervous anticipation. She pictured her dorm, her classmates, the teachers and campus, and she was filled with excitement.

  Before she left for college, Babs asked Cindy and Alice over for a farewell dinner. After the meal, Joey announced that he was in the middle of a very exciting Hardy Boys book and that he couldn’t wait to find out what would happen next, so he went to his room to read, leaving the three women talking around the table.

  ‘Cindy, I hope you enjoy yourself at college,’ said Babs. ‘I wish I’d had the chance to go. If you want my advice, you should play the field. Get to know lots of boys, so that when the right one comes along you’ll know he’s Mr Right.’ Babs sighed and looked down at her hands. ‘I never got the chance to enjoy just being carefree and doing things with my friends. I met and married Howard so young and suddenly all other doors were closed to me. Joey is the only good thing to have come from my marriage.’

  ‘I have to disagree,’ said Alice, predictably, ‘though Babs is half right. I think you should meet lots of young men, but don’t wait too long before settling on someone suitable. If you hold back, someone else will get there first. Those boys from good families get snapped up fast.’

  ‘The rich boys won’t be interested in a girl like me.

  I bet they stick to their own kind,’ said Cindy bashfully.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll meet someone wonderful,’ said Babs, patting Cindy’s hand.

  ‘I hope so,’ said Cindy. ‘But I hope I get the chance to travel too.’ She looked wistful. ‘There’s a big world out there and I’m just itching to find out all about it.’

  Two days later, Cindy set off for college in the little second-hand car she’d bought for herself with some of the money she’d earned over the summer break. As soon as she arrived on campus at Santa Barbara, she fell in love with the school. Set dramatically on cliffs above the Pacific Ocean, UCSB boasted its own beach. With the Californian climate, much use was made of the outdoor settings for social and class events. Fraternities and sororities flourished, most established in boarding houses and shared homes in the surrounding district. Cindy was unsure which of the seven sororities she should join, but after attending the sorority teas and meeting members and being assessed in turn, she was thrilled when what she considered to be one of the best sororities invited her to be a member.

  She shared a large room with a girl from La Jolla named Chrissie Simmons, who had a huge poster of John F. Kennedy on the wall.

  ‘Isn’t he the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen? Way better than Tricky Dicky Nixon, don’t you think?’ she asked Cindy. ‘I just love JFK. You are happy to have him on the wall, aren’t you?’

  Cindy looked at the picture of the handsome young candidate. ‘He can stay, as far as I’m concerned,’ she said. ‘I think that Jackie Kennedy is one lucky woman.’

  Chrissie was sports mad and spent most of her time playing softball, volleyball, or tennis. Cindy was less keen on sport, but she loved going to the beach with her sorority sisters. Here they would often meet the ‘frats’ from the men’s fraternity houses, and swim together and then cook marshmallows over a fire on the sand after the sun had gone down. Some of the boys played guitars and they all sang along. Cindy found that, while others were homesick, she thrived on being in a new place and meeting new people. She loved the novelty of college and being able to be independent and make her own decisions, while others struggled to find themselves and fit in. She was conscientious about her work; her grades were always above average, and she excelled at math.

  Her father paid her semester tuition, but she was responsible for paying for her food, rent, books and everything else, and Cindy quickly realised that the money she’d earned in Palm Springs would not be enough to last all year. So once she’d settled in she applied for a job as a sales assistant in a women’s clothing store in downtown Santa Barbara. After a ten-minute interview, she had the job. Cindy mentally thanked Alice for the crash course she’d received in selling fashion. Even working some hours in the shop and attending classes, she still had plenty of time for an active social life. She was regularly asked out on dates by eligible young men, but none of them seemed quite what she was looking for. Then one day her sorority decided to have an open house and asked the college football team and cheerleaders over for a party. It was at this party that Cindy met star quarterback Robbie Wilson.

  As soon as she met him, she was bowled over. He was unbelievably good-looking. At just over six feet tall and with thick blond hair and a laugh that made people stop to look at him with a smile, he turned heads everywhere he went. He arrived at the party smartly dressed in a preppy striped Brooks Brothers shirt with a button-down collar, a neat pair of sand-coloured chinos and tan brogues. Cindy noticed him as soon as he entered the room and they seemed drawn to one another. Cindy approached him, welcoming him to the sorority open house, and their conversation flowed effortlessly. Robbie told her that he was from
Sacramento, where his family had lived for more than a hundred years. Cindy explained how she’d moved from Washington state to Palm Springs.

  ‘The desert, huh?’ said Robbie, flashing his movie-star smile. ‘Cool place. Well, really it’s not. It’s hot.’ They both laughed. Sitting on a sofa, a bowl of popcorn between them, they talked, laughed a lot and even flirted a little. Cindy felt interesting and attractive. Robbie was disarmingly modest, even though every other girl in the room had her eyes on him. At the end of the evening, he asked if he could visit Cindy at the sorority house. Cindy was ecstatic.

  ‘Wow,’ said Chrissie, when Cindy told her what had happened. ‘That guy is a serious jock. Everyone will be so envious when he comes over. Just about every woman on campus has tried to get Robbie Wilson to show an interest, and he’s never bothered with any other girl.’

  It wasn’t long before Cindy and Robbie became an item. Robbie was two years older than Cindy and more than halfway through his degree. He planned to go to law school when he finished at UCSB, but, as he pointed out, that was still some way off. In the meantime, they met regularly, though Robbie’s training and games took up a lot of his time. Cindy went to the games, revelling in being his girl.

  Despite having a very full calendar, Cindy liked to get back to Palm Springs to see her aunts when she had the chance, even at Thanksgiving and Christmas, when there was not enough time to drive back to Spokane to see her father. However, she was bitterly disappointed that she could not get away for the weekend of Alice’s wedding to Spencer. Babs told her afterwards that it was a surprisingly low-key affair, very intimate and chic. Alice and Spencer were now busy building a house for themselves and were up to their elbows in plans, landscaping and décor. With The Little Folk’s Cottage doing well, Babs had decided to rent a slightly bigger house not far from Hacienda Hideaway and Deidre and Sol. It was not much larger than her old apartment, but as it had three bedrooms, Cindy slept in Babs’s sewing room cum guest room each time she visited and she found the new arrangements much more comfortable than staying with Alice.