Alice begged to be allowed to go home early but they refused: ‘You need the week here,’ the ward sister said, ‘to rest and get your strength back. I know you’ve got a very easy baby, but when you’re home as well as looking after him, you’ll have to do the laundry – and there’ll be an awful lot – clean the house and look after your husband. They don’t like playing second fiddle to their babies, you know, whatever they may say. Also getting home unsettles baby, he’ll be difficult for a few days which will make things harder for you.’
But if Kit felt unsettled, he kept it to himself; he appeared to like his nursery, and the mobile strung across his cot entertained him mightily. He continued to sleep a great deal. Alice put him out in the garden in his pram whenever she could, under the apple tree, where he seemed to take equal pleasure watching the leaves move about in the sunlight; it was a beautiful spring, and almost every day he lay there all morning sleeping or gazing contentedly round him. He smiled for the first time when Alice lifted him out of his pram for his two p.m. feed. ‘I know it’s half an hour early,’ she said to him, ‘but if you don’t tell anyone, I won’t. Then we can get to the park early, sit by the pond.’
And his answer, as he gazed up at her, was some wobbly working of his face as he struggled to get it under control, a little awkward at first, but then settling into the undoubted wonder of his first smile. Alice was so excited, she wanted to ring Tom and tell him. Since she was not allowed to ring him in the office, she rang his mother instead.
* * *
‘I do hope we haven’t made a terrible mistake,’ said Jillie, looking anxiously at her husband to be. ‘Or rather,’ she added, ‘that I haven’t made one.’
‘My darling girl, why ever should you think that?’ said Ned. A student of body language would have noticed a slight but distinct change in his.
‘Ned! Don’t be silly!’ Jillie threw down her pen. They were making one of the countless lists that litter every path to every wedding service and celebration.
Geraldine Curtis had set the number of people invited. ‘Perfectly straightforward,’ she said. ‘Fifty for Ned, fifty for you, Jillie, fifty for our friends, fifty for Persephone and James’s. Strictly speaking the marquee only holds one hundred and fifty, but please God the sun will shine, and people can spill out into the garden.’
‘I mean, it’s perfectly obvious,’ Jillie said now, glaring at Ned. ‘It’s Ascot week. I just hadn’t realised.’
‘Realised what?’ said Ned patiently.
‘Oh, Ned, don’t be stupid. Lots of people will be going, it’s Ladies’ Day. Why didn’t any of you think of it?’
‘It was arranged rather a long time ago,’ said Ned. ‘We checked our own diaries, family birthdays, all that stuff.’
‘None of those things can possibly compare with Ladies’ Day at Ascot. We’ll just have to change the date.’
‘Jillie,’ said her mother rather firmly, ‘we have very few friends who go to Royal Ascot. Now if it was a first night at the Old Vic or Stratford, or even Covent Garden, it might be more serious, but I did check all those.’
‘Well,’ said Jillie irritably, ‘I’m simply not convinced.’
‘I think perhaps I should be going,’ said Ned. ‘I’ve done my list. If you think we should change the date, then let’s discuss it at another time.’
‘Of course we can’t change the date now,’ said Jillie. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous.’
If only, Ned thought, as he pulled the MG out of the drive, if only his worries were just guest lists and dates. He went home and played Scott Joplin ‘Rags’ for almost an hour, to try and calm down.
* * *
Jillie spent quite a lot of time during this period with Persephone, who she increasingly liked. She was such fun, enjoyed everything, and was full of admiration for Jillie’s future career. She also didn’t seem to have the blind devotion to her son so many women did. She clearly adored him, but she was very aware of his faults, and laughed about them with Jillie – his obsessive tidiness for one. ‘It’s the navy training.’
‘Well, I’m rather obsessively untidy, so goodness knows what will happen,’ said Jillie, laughing.
Persephone asked her if they had found a house yet; Jillie sighed and said they hadn’t. ‘We’ll just have to slum it in Ned’s cottage in Chelsea, but it really is tiny. I’d have settled for half a dozen of the houses we’ve seen, but not one was right for Ned. I don’t know quite why.’
Persephone thought she knew but was unable to say so. The wedding was fantasy, which Ned had always been good at, while a house, making a home, was real life, and he simply could not confront it.
Diana and Johnathan had reached an uneasy truce while they tried to decide precisely what to do. Hostilities had reached crisis point; each feeling the other had committed the ultimate in cruelty. Johnathan with his accusation of Diana having an abortion, Diana with her wilful departure for Paris in January.
Long term they didn’t know what to do. Divorce would affect Jamie’s life horribly, and Johnathan had no real grounds. Diana did, that of mental cruelty, but it would be extremely hard to prove and the case would be sordid. And so they went along, polite in company and with Jamie, silent when not; sleeping in separate rooms, eating when possible at different times – waiting for some helpful nudge from fate to show them the way.
Chapter 31
1952
‘Oh, Tom, not this weekend.’
‘Yes, Alice, this weekend. It’s essential.’
‘Well, why didn’t you tell me before?’
‘I didn’t know before.’ Tom had been asked to present the prizes at Acton grammar school on Saturday evening. ‘Some bigwig from Oxford was coming but he’s pulled out at the last minute, and they’ve asked me to do it instead. Of course I must go, and of course you must be there with me. It’s a marvellous opportunity to be seen and the local press will be there. We won’t be late, so you can leave Kit with your mother.’
‘She might be busy – you can’t just assume she’ll come up here.’
‘She’s never busy,’ said Tom. ‘Anyway, what’s so special about this weekend?’
‘Jillie’s having all her bridesmaids to supper on Saturday. It’s only a week till the wedding.’
‘Golly,’ said Tom, ‘good thing it’s not this weekend. We’d have to miss it.’
Alice would have liked to think he was joking; but she knew he wasn’t.
‘Ludo, I need to see you. Can you have dinner tonight?’ His voice sounded shaky even to himself.
‘Not tonight, old boy, sorry. Tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow’s fine. Thanks, Ludo. Look, do you mind if we eat here? I’ve made a steak-and-kidney pie by way of a diversion. Is that all right?’
‘Of course. Do I take it you have something rather personal to discuss? Got plenty of whisky, have you?’
‘Plenty,’ said Ned. ‘Although not nearly as much as I did a week ago, I’m afraid.’
‘Sounds bad.’
Tom was brilliant at the prize-giving. Sitting behind him on the platform, Alice thought she had never been prouder of him. The opening to his speech almost made her cry.
Having thanked the mayor and the headmaster for inviting him, he said, ‘You should all – and I mean all of you, not just the prizewinners today – be extremely proud of yourselves. This is a wonderful school, but I won’t say you’re lucky to be here. Because you’re not.’ The headmaster gave him a startled, none-too-friendly look. ‘You’re not here because your fathers pay a large sum of money every term so that you can attend. Although the education you’re receiving is every bit as good, if not better, as you would be receiving at a private school. No, you’re here entirely through your own efforts, through hard work and determination, every single one of you, and coming here is a prize in itself. So well done. Your families should be proud of you, and you should be proud of yourselves.
‘I went to a grammar school myself, in a small town in Hampshire. I lived in a very small villa
ge where my father was the postman. From there, I went on to work for a solicitor, as a clerk, and now I am a qualified London solicitor. And I am proud, very proud. Particularly of the system that got me there. Undreamed-of opportunities are available through the grammar schools for every child in the land. Make the most of yours. Which I’m sure you are doing.
‘And now to the business of the evening …’
The local paper called his speech inspirational, and carried a photograph of Tom, captioned, Labour figure tells grammar-school boys to be proud of themselves.
It was almost better than being at Jillie’s wedding supper, Alice thought, reading it.
Ludo sat looking at Ned, appalled. Things were even worse than he’d thought. Ned had recently gone against Ludo’s advice for treatment under the auspices of professional psychiatrists from a large London hospital, the purpose of which was to ‘administer and evaluate treatment for homosexuality’, said Ned.
‘There were things we had to do which I can’t tell even you, they were so appalling. Well you’ve been through it, you know. Christ, it was dreadful. But I did it. I felt I had to, for Jillie, because I so sincerely love her. I’ve done absolutely the wrong thing in asking her to marry me, and for letting things reach this stage.’
‘When was this?’
‘Couple of months ago.’
‘Any help?’
‘No. Absolutely none.’
‘Ned –’ Ludo hesitated. ‘Ned, you shouldn’t have let it get to this point. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but –’
‘You’re right, but I have to face things now, call a halt. Jesus. Two hundred guests, eight bridesmaids, huge party in the garden afterwards, the great and the good all there, including my mother. Who’s been fantastic. She guessed, of course, but coming from the circles she lives in, she understands and accepts and is absolutely supportive, but she’s angry with me for letting it get to this stage. But every time I decided to talk to Jillie, I would think of the awful consequences for me and my courage would fail.’
‘You poor blighter,’ said Ludo.
‘But now I have to. However ghastly it is for her as well as me, it’s better than marrying her under false pretences, to save my face. I’ll tell her the truth and urge her to tell it too. I’m not having her humiliated more than she has to be.’
‘I’m not sure the truth is what she’ll want to tell,’ said Ludo, ‘but we’ll see.’
‘There was a case in the papers last week,’ said Ned. ‘Some poor chap got caught soliciting. Wasn’t really, he just approached someone who was sitting on a park bench, struck up a conversation with him. But the police were onto this man, watching him, they’d had a tip-off and – well, that did it. They were both arrested, charged with gross indecency. Gross indecency, Ludo, for making a friend. They weren’t even holding hands, for God’s sake. The police just loathe us, they’ll do anything to catch us, send decoys into public lavatories – it’s dreadful. So wrong. So desperately wrong.’
His whisky glass was empty. Ludo poured him another.
‘Thanks. Anyway, I just needed to see you. Tell you what I was going to do, and I’ d – I’d like to be able to talk to you afterwards, if you’re around.’
‘Yes, of course. I’m in the flat all week. Look, I can see now how lucky I am I suppose. I’m what’s now known as “bisexual”. I daresay you’ve heard of James Lees-Milne, the art historian –’
‘Yes, yes, of course.’
‘He’s bisexual; fell in love with Tom Mitford at Eton, and then years later with his sister Diana. Anyway, when I went to bed with a girl, I was all right. Although I much preferred the boys, certainly when I was young. But the dangers – well, the first time we talked, when I told you –’
‘That was brave,’ said Ned. ‘I’ll never forget that, Ludo, how much it helped me.’
‘We were pretty drunk, as I recall,’ said Ludo.
‘Well, it made me feel a lot less crazy,’ said Ned. ‘And I hoped you felt you could trust me.’
‘I did. And I do still. But you must get it over, Ned. Go and see Jillie tomorrow, no later, for her sake.’
‘Ned’s coming round this evening,’ said Jillie to her mother over lunch. ‘Says he wants to talk to me, can’t think what about. Now look, I know it’s a bit late in the day but I’m thinking of changing my hair.’
‘What, for your wedding?’ said Geraldine, her voice rising in horror. ‘Darling, it’s much too late, the poor hairdresser will have a fit.’
‘Well, it’s better than walking down the aisle in front of all those people, knowing I could be looking better,’ said Jillie.
‘I think you look lovely as it is. And so did all the girls on Saturday. You know, when they wanted to see the dress and you did your hair with the tiara.’
‘I know, but they hadn’t seen the new way. Alice would have understood,’ she added. ‘So sad she couldn’t come. She really is the most devotedly supportive wife. I’m afraid I shan’t be nearly as good – I’ve got terribly behind with my studies as it is.’
‘Well, you know my views on that,’ said Geraldine. ‘I don’t really approve of that sort of devotion. Women, even wives, have a right to their own lives.’
‘I know and I think Alice feels like that deep down. But she’s buried it, she’s so haunted by Laura’s ghost.’
‘Yes, it must be very difficult, living up to a paragon.’
‘I bet she wasn’t really a paragon. I bet she had loads of faults. But in Alice’s mind she was, so she just can’t help trying to be one too. Anyway, back to my hair …’
‘Jillie, please don’t. These last-minute things are so hard on everyone.’
Ned arrived at six on the dot. He was very pale, and Jillie realised for the first time that he had lost a lot of weight. I should have noticed, she thought. It’s because I’ve been so wrapped up in myself.
‘Hello,’ she said, giving him a kiss. ‘Come in. This is a bit of a treat. How are you?’
‘Oh – fine.’
‘You look as if you’re not eating enough. I mean, brides are meant to lose weight but I don’t think bridegrooms are. Stay for supper when you’ve finished talking about whatever it is. We’ll probably be eating in the garden, it’ll be lovely. Shall I tell Mrs Hemmings to find a bit of extra everything?’
‘Er, no. Let’s talk first at least,’ said Ned. ‘Where shall we go where we can be sure of being left alone?’
‘Gosh, it’s serious. Well, why don’t we go to my bedroom? Whatever can it be? I’m hugely intrigued. Come on.’
Her bedroom was large, more of a sitting room where she worked and studied, with a desk, a chaise longue and a couple of easy chairs, as well as her bed. It was a beautiful evening, and the windows were wide open, the curtains blowing in and out of the room with the breeze. She paused in the doorway, looking at it thoughtfully.
‘I love this room,’ she said. ‘I shall quite miss it. Oh, what a thing to say to you. Sorry, Ned.’
‘That’s – all right.’
‘Well, shall we sit down? Where would be appropriate? The chaise longue, perhaps.’
She crossed to it, patted the space beside her. ‘Ned, darling, you’re as white as a sheet. Would you like a drink? I’ll go and get you a whisky.’
‘No, no, don’t,’ he said, and he didn’t even sit down, just stood in front of her, clearly waiting to speak.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘Go ahead. Have I done something awful? I’m terribly sorry if I have. I know I’ve been a bit of a bitch lately, I—’
‘You haven’t,’ said Ned, ‘but I have.’
‘Well, I promise not to be cross.’
‘You can be as cross as you like,’ said Ned. ‘Jillie, look at me. I want you to listen very carefully to what I have to say.’
He took a deep breath and told her that he couldn’t marry her. And then he told her why.
Chapter 32
1952
‘It’s disgusting.’ Tom’s voice was ful
l of hostility. ‘Disgraceful. I cannot understand how anyone can behave like that.’
Since he was reading the paper, Alice thought that whatever it was, the Conservative party must be doing it. She was right.
‘We started all these reforms,’ said Tom. ‘Now they’re claiming it was entirely due to them. God, I hope Gaitskell goes for him in Question Time. Just listen to this: “In every way the nation is better off under this new Conservative government. Its health –” health! I suppose they brought in the National Health Service – “education, nutrition – rationing is almost over – identity cards are gone, and wartime regulations almost at an end. Wages have trebled.” Oh, I can’t go on. We did every one of those things, or were well on the way with them …’
‘It is dreadful,’ said Alice carefully, ‘I agree. But it’s the way of the world in politics, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose so. But I’m going to write to this paper – your friend Josh Curtis wouldn’t print this rubbish in the Daily News. I think I’ll ring him in the morning, or maybe now –’
‘Well, I’m going to take Kit to the park,’ said Alice. ‘You’ll have some peace and quiet to think about your letter.’
She picked Kit out of his playpen and hurried away, before Tom could decide she should ring Josh, or want to discuss some other plan altogether.
It was a lovely October day; golden and warm. She tucked Kit into his pram, and pushed it out through the front door and down the street. Kit struggled to sit up, his latest accomplishment. He smiled at her, showing one white half-emerged tooth. He was a lovely golden brown colour himself, having spent much of the summer outside. He really was a remarkable baby. His temperament remained level and cheerful, even when he was clearly in some discomfort from his teeth. Alice, who refused to take any credit for his behaviour, was much envied for it. She insisted he had simply been born happy, but both her mother, and Tom’s married sisters who they saw occasionally, thought otherwise. ‘It’s because you’re so calm, darling,’ her mother said. ‘You enjoy it all. They pick up on that sort of thing.’
A Question of Trust Page 31
