‘Can’t see that it’s B.B.’s fault.’
‘He’d much better let the thing go to The Hague and be settled once for all.’
Suddenly the shouting and stamping and clapping subsided and a rather sinister silence fell on the crowd. Philip said, anxiously, ‘Don’t like this much, I hope they’re not waiting for a signal.’
Almost as he spoke, the crowd came violently, terrifyingly to life. It surged in the narrow street as if it must burst apart the houses; the slogan took on a blood-curdling note. ’Chang began to scream at the top of his voice; the din was deafening. The police now joined hands and forced the rioters away from the entrance to our courtyard; to my horror I saw that the huge wooden gates were slowly opening.
‘Look,’ said Northey, ‘the gates – a traitor –!’
‘Good Lord,’ said Philip and made as though to go downstairs.
‘Don’t leave us –’ I was frightened for the baby who might so easily be hurt if the mob poured in and overwhelmed us. I looked out again. The police seemed to be in control. In the middle of the screaming crowd a London taxi, escorted by policemen, was crawling up the street. It was driven by Payne; Uncle Matthew, deeply interested, craned from the window; on its roof, dressed from head to foot in shiny black plastic material, were our boys, Fabrice and Charlie, with another boy, a stranger to me, dressed in shiny white. This child was waving a guitar at the crowd as though he thought the screams and shrieks were meant for him. The more the people cried Minquiers Français the more he grinned and waved in acknowledgement. With a superhuman effort, the police cleared a passage for the taxi, got it into the courtyard and shut the gates behind it. We all ran downstairs.
Uncle Matthew was being helped out of the cab by Charlie and Fabrice. The other boy was fidgeting about, snapping his fingers. He looked cross and impatient.
‘Excitable lot, these foreigners,’ said my uncle, ‘how are you, Fanny? Here are your spawn, safe and sound thanks to Payne. We found them in the aeroplane or at least they found me, I didn’t know them from Adam of course. They recognized me and hopped into the cab. Do you know, we flew it over – now your stepfather thought of that, very competent fellow.’
‘This is Yanky Fonzy, Mum,’ said Fabrice, indicating the third lad. He was an unprepossessing hobbledehoy, with pasty face, sloppy look about the mouth and hair done like Queen Alexandra’s after the typhoid. ‘Didn’t the kids give him a wonderful reception – you heard them screaming, “Yanky Fonzy, Yanky Fonzy ”? It’s never been like this in London.’
‘D’you mean that terrifying riot was all about him?’ I said.
‘It only was a riot of enthusiasm,’ said the youth. ‘The kids are never nasty or out for manslaughter. They buy my discs and support me. Why are they shut away from here? Where can I go and wave to them? Why are the arrangements breaking down? Where’s my French agent?’ He fired these questions at each of us in turn, snapping his fingers. He seemed in a thoroughly bad humour.
This curious new light having been thrown on the situation, Philip burst into a loud laugh and went into the house, no doubt, I supposed, to find Alfred.
‘He’s not much to look at,’ said Uncle Matthew, indicating Mr Fonzy, ‘and his clothes would frighten the birds, but I’m bound to tell you he whacks merry hell out of that guitar. We had tunes the whole way here.’
I took Charles by the arm and led him out of earshot of the others. ‘Just tell me what this means? Your packing job – have you left it?’
‘Definitely. Chucked it.’
‘Tell me truthfully, Charlie, you haven’t been nicking shavers?’
‘Oh no, Mum, hardly at all. But even you wouldn’t want us to go on packing for the rest of our lives? It turned out to be rather ghoulish and there’s no future in it whatever. No, we’ve moved on. We’re in the Showbiz now where there are fortunes to be picked up. Actually we are Yanky’s publicity agents. Grandad arranged it for us – he’s a smashing old forebear! It was he who thought of arriving like that with the weirdie in the taxi – oh boy, what a gimmick! Yank’s Continental debew has started with a real explosion, hasn’t it? – there must be thousands of kids round this dump.’
Fabrice came over to us. ‘I say, Mum, the kiddos are yearning for Yank, you know. They may easily turn ghoulish if you keep him shut up in this yard for ever.’
‘Definitely,’ said Charles.
‘But how did they know he was coming?’
‘That’s all done by Sigi, our Paris agent. First-class organization!’
The hobbledehoy was now behaving like a prima donna.
‘Where can I go and be with my fans? What’s happening here? They’ll turn dangerous if they don’t see me soon. I say, you kids, something has gone wrong. Please send me my Paris agent at once.’
‘Here I am.’ Sigi appeared out of the blue.
‘Well done, Sigi,’ said Fabrice,’ jolly spiffing show.’
‘So far,’ said Yanky, ‘but we must keep up the tempo. Where are the kids now? I want to be with them.’
‘They’ve all gone round to the other side of the house,’ said Sigi. ‘There’s a huge garden and a balcony where you can do your act. I’ve just been rigging up the mike. Come on, no time to waste. Excuse us,’ he said to me, ever polite, kissing my hand, ‘but if they don’t see him soon they will rush the place.’ He ran into the house, followed by the other boys.
I turned to Uncle Matthew, feeling I had not made enough fuss of him in all the commotion.’ How d’you do, Payne?’
‘Payne’s just had a word with your porter,’ said Uncle Matthew,’ it seems the street is clear now so I think we’ll be on our way. I never meant to bother you at all – Paris isn’t on our itinerary – we came here to oblige those boys.’
‘Now you are here, do stay. Where are you off to, anyhow?’
‘Ypres,’ said my uncle. ‘Payne and I thought we’d like to see old Wipers again. A fellow in the House told me there’s a sector they’ve preserved exactly as it was. We had the time of our lives in those trenches when we were young, didn’t we, Payne?’
‘To tell the truth, m’lord, I’d just as soon see them in present circumstances.’
‘Nonsense! It will all seem very dull, though better than nothing no doubt.’
‘But there’s no hurry, is there? Don’t go yet. Now you are here, stay for a few days.’
‘Oh my dear child, but where?’
‘Here, with us, of course.’
‘You haven’t got room?’
‘Darling Uncle Matthew – in that enormous house? Jérôme, our chauffeur, will show Payne where to put the cab and fill it up and everything.’
‘Well, that’s very civil of you, Fanny. I do feel rather tired. Will there be a cocktail party?’
‘Yes, indeed, nearly every evening. I know we’ve got some people coming presently.’
Uncle Matthew gave me a superior look, saying, ‘I thought you’d find out about them sooner or later. Well, that’s splendid. If I could see my room I’ll go and sit down for a few minutes, then I’ll be ready for anything.’
‘Take your grandfather up in the lift,’ I said to Northey. ‘I think we’ll give him the Violet room. Then will you send Jérôme, out to look after Payne, please? I must go and see what those boys are up to.’
On the stairs I was overtaken by Philip. ‘That unspeakable Sigi.’he said.
‘Where’s Alfred?’
‘He’s gone to the Quai to complain – he went out by the Chancery as soon as the street began to clear. Now listen, Fanny–’
‘Yes, but hurry. I must go and stop it all –’
‘This is very important though. Don’t tell Alfred. I don’t believe those journalists in the Faubourg have understood –I hope that at this very moment they are whizzing back stories of a riot about the Minquiers. Alfred has already informed the F.O. If we can keep up the fiction, this so-called riot will have a splendid effect. Both sides will feel they have gone too far and there’ll be a beautiful reconcili
ation.’
‘That would be perfect but I’m afraid it’s too good to be likely. They are all in the garden still, according to Sigi.’
‘Yes, they are, I’ve just been through to have a look. The boy is crooning and the fens are swooning and so on. But the only people there who look like journalists all belong to jazz papers – they won’t get anything into the general news and they don’t even know that they are in the Embassy garden. Now I’m off to the Crillon to see the press boys there. So sealed lips, eh? – and shoo Yanky off, that’s your job.’
‘Yes, indeed. But Philip – you’ll have to square Mees or good little Amy will know all She’s taken ’Chang to the nursery I think.’
‘Right, I’ll do that first.’
I ran on up to the yellow drawing-room where I found the boys making a perfect exhibition of themselves. The french windows were wide open; on the little balcony Yank Fonzy was bellowing into a microphone; behind him on the parquet my boys and Sigi were stamping and clapping while the huge crowd of children in the garden had lost all control. The scene was vividly evoked afterwards in Le Discophile and I cannot do better than to quote: ‘L’atmosphére fut indescriptible. Ce jazzman chanta avec une passion qui n’appartient qu’aux grands prédicateurs. On dansait, on entrait en transes, on se roulait an sol tout comme les convulsionaires de Saint Médard. Le gazon était lacéré, les arbustes déchiquetés – affligeant spectacle?
I pounced forward and very crossly dragged Master Yanky back into the room, then I disconnected the microphone and slammed the windows on the afflicting spectacle. He was so much surprised at this unaccustomed behaviour that he put up no resistance; in any case his body felt as if it were made of dough. Sigi opened the windows again, went on to the balcony and shouted, ‘Tousau Vel d’Hiv’: a cry which was taken up by the crowd and had the effect of clearing the garden. Chanting’ ‘Yanky Fonzy – Yanky Foncy’ the fans made off in the direction of the river.
‘I’m sorry, Mme l’Ambassadrice,’ ever polite, ‘but it was the best way to get rid of them.’
‘And what next?’ I said. I was almost too angry with Sigismond to be able to speak to him, but it must be said that he was the only one of the boys in control of himself. The others were still rolling and stamping about like poor mad things, well and truly sent.
‘Please don’t worry at all, we are going now. I’ll take Yanky, Charlie and Fabrice to the Club to meet the Duke. After that we’re joining up with the kids at the Vélodrome d’Hiver, where there is the great Yanky Fonzy Pop Session you have no doubt seen advertised on all the kiosks.’
‘The dub? The Duke?’ I had a horrid vision of Yanky in white leather and my boys in black leather bursting in on the Due de Romanville at the Jockey Club.
‘Le Pop dub de France. We’ve got a rendezvous with Duke Ellington there.’
‘Now listen to me, Sigi, I’m not going to have that boy to stay.’
‘No, no.’ Sigi laughed inwardly, reminding me of his father. ‘He has got the honeymoon suite at the George V. I went there to see that everything was all right, which is why I was a bit late. You can’t imagine what the flowers and chocolates are like. I managed to nick some and gave them to the concierge for you.’
‘Too good of you. And now be off, I beg, and don’t use this house any more for your disreputable activities.’
‘Count on me, Mme I’Ambassadrice,’ he said, with his annoying politeness.
Chapter Twenty-two
AS six o’clock struck, a remarkable demonstration of English punctuality occurred in the Salon Vert. Uncle Matthew stood at the ready by the fireplace, while a procession, of a sort very familiar to me by now, came across the Salon Jaune. Few days ever passed without this sort of influx. First there was Brown, the butler. Two fine, upstanding men, older than they looked, as could be seen by grey flecks in the hair, but without a line on their faces or, obviously, a care in the world, marched close on his heels. Conservatives I knew they were, from one or other of the Houses of Parliament. Two elderly wives panted and limped after them in art effort to keep up, one arm weighed down by those heavy bags which Conservative women affect and in which they conserve an extraordinary accumulation of rubbish and an extraordinarily small amount of cash. Two or three boys, of a demeanour already described, which proclaimed that they had but recently left Eton, trailed along behind them, then two or three pretty, cheerful, elegant schoolgirls who seemed to view their relations rather objectively. They were probably about to be confided to ‘families’ and I would be asked to keep an eye on them. They looked, and no doubt were, ready for anything and I only hoped that I should not be held responsible when anything overtook them.
Simultaneously Alfred, whom I had not seen since the riot, came through the door which led to his own room and library. I had just time to say, ‘Alfred, here’s Uncle Matthew who has come for a few days. Imagine, he has brought our two little boys – they all arrived in the middle of the excitement!’ when the Conservative wives, breaking into a rapid hobble, managed to catch up with Brown and precede their husbands through the double doors.
‘We’ve brought the whole family!’ Loud English voices, familiar since all time. ‘Thought you wouldn’t mind! Let me see now, I don’t think you know my sister-in-law, do you?’
I didn’t think I knew any of them, though on the telephone, when they had asked to come, there had been something about having met at Montdore House in the old days; I tried to look welcoming but I was dying for a word with Alfred. ‘What would you like to drink?’
‘My dear! Liquid fire if you’ve got it! Vodka – just the very thing! We are utterly, completely, and absolutely whacked! Well, the shops all the morning, only to have a look of course – the prices! Then luncheon, that set us back considerably. Then we went to see Myrtle’s Madarm – now here’s the name (you know, I couldn’t remember it yesterday on the telephone).’ Delving among the alluvial deposits in the bag and bringing out a crumpled piece of paper.’ Comtesse de Langalluire – that’s a tongue-twister if ever there was one! You’ve never heard of her? I say, I only hope there’s nothing fishy. The flat (Boulevard Haussmann) is none too clean and when we arrived Madarm had gone to the police; one of the girls had escaped.’
‘No, Mum, she hadn’t escaped at all in the end. You know quite well, she’d only gone out to lunch and forgotten to say.’
‘So we saw the Monsewer – a sinister little hunchback.’
‘The concierge was sweet.’ Myrtle was evidently determined to be confided to Madarm whatever happened.
‘There was a son who looked quite idiotic and rather frightening.’
‘Yes, but I shan’t see anything of him as I’ll be out all day at the Sorbonne.’
‘However, when Madarm herself arrived we thought she seemed rather nice.’
‘She had a crew cut,’ said one of the boys.
‘Her face was sensible, I thought.’
While all this was going on, the Conservative husbands were expressing amazement at finding Uncle Matthew, whom they knew quite well but who clearly did not know them from Adam.
‘This is Lord Alconleigh, Peggy.’
‘How d’you do? I’m a great friend of Jennifer’s.’
‘For pity’s sake! What on earth do you see in her?’
‘It seems you had a spot of trouble here this afternoon?’ the other M.P. was saying to Alfred.
‘No harm was done; personally I think it will have a good result. Both sides will have to be more conciliatory – both have been to blame. This may clear the air.’
‘Can’t see the point of making bad blood over those islands, myself. Massigli tells me they are submerged most of the time.’
‘There has never been a more pointless quarrel,’ said Alfred, firmly. ‘Now I hope the question will be sent up to The Hague and that we shall hear no more about it.’
When everybody was happily chattering, Alfred murmured to me,’ Did you say Charlie and Fabrice are here?’
‘Uncle Matthew
brought them.’
‘How splendid of the old boy. Where are they now?’
‘Gone to a concert, with Sigi.’
‘Good. That’s very good news. Now we must take serious steps – get them into a lycée if we can – ’
Brown reappeared, announcing ‘Madame la Duchesse de Sauveterre and Monsieur le Marquis de Valhubert.’
‘We’ve just heard about your riot,’ said Charles-Édouard, ‘we called to see if you were alive. When the concierge said you were at home we came up. Tante Odile is in Paris for a few days.’
‘How kind you are.’ I was frantic inside because of not knowing what names to put to the loud Conservative voices. To my relief, Alfred did the introducing. When he got to Uncle Matthew, I said, ‘My uncle saw more of the riot than any of us because he arrived when it was at its worst and drove through the thick of it, escorted by policemen – ’
‘I call that very brave,’ said an M.P.
‘My dear fellow, they were a perfectly harmless lot – just a pack of children. I didn’t think much of it – if that’s the best they can put on – ’
‘Never underestimate a French crowd,’ said the Duchess. ‘I speak with knowledge. Three of my grandmothers perished in the Terror.’
‘Three!’ said Uncle Matthew, much interested. ‘Did you have three grandfathers as well? What happened to them?’
‘We say grandmothers when we mean ancestresses,’ Charles-Édouard explained.
The Duchess said, ‘Oh, various things. One of them was murdered in the Jacquerie, and the best housemaid I ever had was shot dead in the Stavisky riots. So don’t talk to me of a French crowd being harmless.’
Uncle Matthew seemed to be struggling to remember something and came out with, ‘Joan of Arc – didn’t she have a sticky end? I suppose she was a relation of yours?’
‘Certainly, if she was a d’Orléans, as most people think nowadays.’
‘Really?’ said Charles-Édouard, with his inward laugh. ‘Why do they?’
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