Characteristically, after the divorce, Freda was magnanimous to her ex-husband. Bobby’s affair with Laura soon fizzled out; once he was available she became terribly bored with him. Despite his bad behaviour, Freda and Bobby remained friends. He sometimes went on holidays with her and occasionally they visited her family in Malta together. Unable to resist a pretty woman of any age, Bobby flirted with Freda’s granddaughter Tilly.51 However, Tilly had fallen in love with one of her father’s aides-de-camp, Lieutenant Mark Agnew. They were married in April 1955; a year later their first daughter Leonie was born, making Freda a great-grandmother at the youthful age of 61.52
On her own again, Freda continued to live in her Victorian flat in Albert Hall Mansions, Kensington, which she filled with stylish modern furniture. When Bobby ran out of money and became ill with cancer, Freda moved him into the flat next door to her apartment. She would not have him back as a husband, but she looked after him through his final illness.53
After her second divorce, Freda had admirers but no lasting relationship. She remained close to Rosemary’s widower, Eric Dudley, sometimes staying with him in his Bahamas home, Marion House, Nassau. Another man who fell in love with her was the politician Kenneth Lindsay. It seems that they first met when he joined the Feathers Club Association Council in 1942. They worked together on several projects for the charity and he was soon infatuated with her, writing: ‘I cannot stop thinking of you because I love you.’54 He moved to America, where he was Walker-Ames Lecturer in political science at the University of Washington. Freda’s relationship with Kenneth was based on an intellectual bond. Freda had always been interested in politics and ideas. She was as supportive of Kenneth as she had been to her earlier lovers. He wrote to her thanking her for the enormous encouragement she had given him in his work. However, as in the past, her new love became dissatisfied with the level of commitment she was willing to give him. He wrote to her: ‘Last night was so unsatisfactory and left me with such an unsympathetic outlook that I must write this short line. I did not know it was possible for so much rust to gather in the soul within 24 hours and by last night the corroding powers were well advanced when we met.’55 The problem seemed to be that Freda had so many friends and family who needed her that she could not give him the undivided attention he craved.
Freda continued her charity work for the Feathers Club Association until she was in her late 60s. After the war, the charity moved into youth and community work. Their aim was to prevent children in overcrowded areas from getting into trouble which would see them end up in court. The Association’s slogan was: ‘It is cheaper to keep a boy and girl in a Youth Club than in an Approved School – Please Help Us to Help Them to Help Themselves.’56 In 1952 Freda took a journalist from The Sketch to visit the clubs. The journalist was very impressed with the way they were run, largely by the members for themselves. The writer commented on the friendliness of the atmosphere and the ‘obvious popularity’ of Freda, who he reckoned could ‘leave a jewel case unlocked in an unlocked car in these slum districts of London (where the police go in pairs) without the slightest worry’.57 Mixing with the club members, Freda became streetwise. Her granddaughter Emma remembers her advising her never to bother locking her car because if someone wanted to steal something from it they would just break the window to get in.58 Freda readily built a rapport with the young people she met. As her grandson Ben Laycock explains: ‘She was the least snobbish person you could imagine. It was always a huge pleasure when she was around. She was fun and had a great sense of humour.’59 Perhaps an initial icebreaker with members of the youth clubs was that in her earlier years at house parties she is credited with inspiring the game called ‘Freda’, which is a cross between billiards and snooker.60
In the 1950s there were 2,130 members of the seven clubs, which were in some of the most deprived areas in London. They were open all day providing school meals for children, afternoon clubs for housewives and pensioners and play centres for 4- to 7-year-olds. In the evening, they ran youth clubs offering a range of activities including drama, boxing, table tennis, football, athletics and dancing. In the summer they put on camps; the boys went to Battlesbridge and the girls to Chigwell Row.
In 1958, Freda wrote to Winston Churchill thanking him for another instalment of the money from the ‘Gramophone company’ for his wartime speeches. She explained that the charity was expanding fast, but it was always short of funds. They had bought another hall in Paddington where they could take 300 children in the evenings. She wrote: ‘It is in the environs of the Edgware Road, a rough and tough neighbourhood and just where we ought to be!!!’61 The charity received an annual grant from the Ministry of Education, but this came nowhere near meeting the cost of the clubs, so the rest of the money had to be raised by Freda and her volunteers. She was a very hands-on chairman, who rarely missed a meeting for more than twenty years. She put on an annual jumble sale at her flat which raised £1,500. Every year she put on a dance for 700 society youngsters aged 10 to 17 to raise funds for those who were less fortunate. At one square dance at Chelsea Town Hall, the girls wore full skirts and coloured blouses while the boys were dressed in checked and tartan shirts and jeans. Henrietta Tiarks (the future Duchess of Bedford), Anna Massey (who was to become a famous actress) and the film star Vivien Leigh were there to support Freda.62 Her grandchildren were regularly inviegled into her charity work, and they still remember attending the events she organised.63 When he was a trendy teenager in the 1960s Freda’s grandson Ben loathed going but there was ‘a three-line whip’ from his mother, so they all had to attend the dance. Ben was particularly annoyed because his mother made him have his hair cut and wear ‘incredibly straight clothes’ for the evening. ‘It was hell,’ he recalled.64
For decades, Freda had shown so much dedication to the cause that it was felt by many of her friends and colleagues that she should be honoured for her work. In 1954, Lord Willingdon, Kenneth Lindsay and Brendan Bracken approached another friend of hers, Prime Minister Winston Churchill, about her being made a Dame of the British Empire to mark the twenty-first anniversary of the foundation of the Feathers Club Association. Lord Willingdon, who was a vice-president of the clubs, explained that it would please the many members, especially the old people who were devoted to the marquesa.65 However, although the prime minister’s office considered the suggestion, nothing came of it.
In 1963 Freda’s old friend Eric, Lord Dudley, tried again. He asked Winston Churchill to write to the present prime minister, Harold Macmillan, saying that she should be honoured for her work. Eric had been a vice-president of the Feathers Association for many years. He explained that he thought Freda was, in many ways, one of the outstanding women of her generation.66 It seems that Clementine was pushing her husband to recommend their old friend too. Winston told Eric that they both admired the great work Freda had done.67 In August 1963 Churchill wrote a letter to the prime minister setting out what Freda had achieved. Macmillan replied saying that Winston could assure Clemmie that he would bear Freda’s name in mind when he was thinking about his New Year’s Honours List.68 Lord Dudley had thought that with Churchill’s backing the honour would be a fait accompli.69 However, the repercussions from the Profumo scandal affected Macmillan’s self-confidence and he resigned as prime minister on health grounds in October. Although Freda certainly deserved official recognition, she never received it. It is also possible that she was offered an honour and turned it down. As her relationship with the prince showed, Freda had never pursued titles, she did the work for its own sake. Lord Dudley wrote to Winston Churchill: ‘As you know, her unselfish character, she would probably refuse anything that might be offered, but yet be pleased by the gesture.’70
By the middle of the 1960s Freda had given up being chairwoman of the Feathers Club Association. For the next decade she occasionally attended meetings and was always given a special welcome. Her family continued their connections with the charity when Pempie became president. Freda had always been very
involved with her daughters and as she grew older she also played an important role in the lives of her seven grandchildren. When her granddaughter Emma was 11 she came to live with Freda during the week because she was going to school in London. Emma recalls that her grandmother never interfered and left her to her own devices. On one occasion Emma asked if she could help her with her homework. Freda replied that she couldn’t possibly as she would get it wrong. One of her wise sayings was: ‘Never interfere in other people’s lives. The only thing you can do for your children is fix their teeth.’ She was always there to support her grandchildren, but she also encouraged them to be independent.71
As she got older, Freda was never lonely because people of all ages found her fun to be with. At one family gathering, she looked around the room and was surprised to see so many people there. She said: ‘But I only had two children.’72 Her grandchildren loved visiting her. They remember her as someone who they could talk to about anything. She was totally unjudgemental and she always asked her grandchildren about what they were doing rather than wanting to talk about herself.
Freda also had many lifelong friends because she rarely fell out with anyone. She developed very close relationships with both her male and female friends. She preferred intimate lunches or dinners on her own with one friend so that they could pour their hearts out to her.73 She introduced her grandchildren to her fascinating circle. Her granddaughter Martha Milinaric recalls meeting Nancy Astor, who was rather formidable, and Paula Gellibrand, who was wonderful with children. Clemmie Churchill was also a great friend.
Although she was very close to her grandmother, Martha did not know that Freda had been the Prince of Wales’s mistress until she was in her 20s. She read about it when Frances Donaldson’s biography of the prince appeared. When Martha asked her grandmother about it she was reluctant to talk, saying it was all so long ago. She had moved on and was living her life to the full in the present. She did not seem interested in the past.74 Freda’s great-niece, Lady Isabella Naylor-Leyland (Bindy’s daughter), recalls her telling her about when the prince refused to return her phone calls. Freda said it was a shame, but she did not say anything derogatory about her former lover and showed no bitterness. Isabella remembers her as being very wise; she said to her: ‘All those things seem so important at the time but when you get to my age, none of it matters at all.’75
As the years went by Freda was one of the last survivors of her glamorous generation. Reflecting their shrinking circle, Lady Diana Cooper phoned Freda and said that as they were the only ones left perhaps they should try to see each other more. Freda was polite but honest, replying that they had never really got on and she did not see any point in pretending now.76 When Freda’s grandson Max Reed saw her looking up something in a battered old address book, he offered to buy her a new one, but she told him not to bother as most of her friends were dead.77 The Duke of Windsor had died in Paris in 1972; Freda had not seen or spoken to him for nearly four decades. However, she still wore the two rings he had given her during their long relationship. One was a beautiful ruby and white gold ring from Cartier, while the other had a message inscribed inside. They were slightly chipped after years of being worn every day, but they were a secret symbol of the past. It was only after Freda’s death that her family realised they had come from the Prince of Wales.78
For Freda there were no regrets; there were too many people still in her life for her to dwell on the past. However, the life of her replacement, the Duchess of Windsor, was very different. She lived on, suffering from dementia, increasingly isolated and cut off in her own world. Freda was never a vindictive woman and her grandchildren say they never heard her say a bad word about Wallis. If they asked her about the woman who replaced her she refused to be drawn.79 However, she was thrilled when Caroline Blackwood, who was writing a book on the Windsors, came to interview her and told her that she looked years younger than Wallis.80
As she grew older, Freda remained as elegant and charming as ever. Although she became a frail old lady, who was very tiny and almost bird-like in appearance, she still made an effort to look attractive. Her style had changed little since the 1930s and every morning she went through the same ritual, spending ages curling her hair and applying her make-up in front of the mirror.81 She also carried on smoking, often having one cigarette on the go after another.82 Her great-niece Lady Isabella Naylor-Leyland describes her as ‘very quaint, she always wore a little bow tie under her neatly collared shirts’.83 Another great-niece, Lucinda Lambton, recalls: ‘It was like seeing someone from a different world. She had an overwhelming innate glamour, without being ostentatious. I loved her delicacy, she was ethereal and enchanting.’84
The last years of Freda’s life were marred by the premature deaths of some of her closest family. Both Freda’s daughters were widowed. First, Bob Laycock had a fatal heart attack in 1968, aged only 60. His death was a great shock to all the family, and after it Angie spent much of her time in Spain. In 1976 Pempie’s husband, Carol Reed, also died of a heart attack.85 When her sons-in-law died Freda was very strong and supported her daughters and their children.
After Pempie was widowed she bought three houses in Old Church Street, Chelsea. Freda moved in to one of them with her Filipino maid, Marcie, who had become her friend and companion. At first Freda missed her flat and humorously described her new house as ‘a slum’.86 However, it was a practical solution and as they lived next door to each other, mother and daughter saw each other all the time. Freda’s niece Bindy, who had married Lord Lambton, also liked to stay close to her aunt. She lived on the King’s Road close to Freda’s new house.87
Freda, Pempie and Angie remained not just physically but emotionally very close to each other but there was some sibling rivalry and at times Freda’s daughters rowed. Freda found their arguments funny. One day when they were both visiting her, Angie asked Pempie if she could use her car, which was parked outside. At first Pempie said no because she thought her sister was such an awful driver. However, after Angie got cross Pempie relented and gave her the keys. Freda and her elder daughter watched from the window as Angie tried to drive out of the parking space. As Angie reversed into the car behind, Freda laughed so much that there were tears running down her face. ‘They haven’t changed since they were children,’ she said.88
In 1980 tragedy struck Angie’s family when her eldest son Joe and his 8-year-old daughter Flora were killed in a boating accident. Perhaps hardest of all for Freda was when Pempie died of a brain tumour in 1982. Freda had lived through many hard times and was a philosophical person, but she did not have a strong faith. Her grandson Ben recalls her saying: ‘If God exists, he’s either completely inefficient or a total bastard.’89 Freda only survived her eldest daughter by a year. While staying with Angie in Spain, she had a fall and broke her pelvis. She never fully recovered and seemed to just fade away. She died in 1983 at the age of 88. In her later years, when her grandchildren asked her about dying she told them she was not afraid, explaining: ‘It was perfectly all right before I was born so I’m sure it will be all right after I’m dead.’90
Throughout her long life she rarely spoke and never wrote about her affair with the prince. However, after her death Freda’s trusted maid, Miss McCann, handed Angie a suitcase which she had never seen before. When Angie opened it, she found hundreds of letters from the prince and Michael Herbert which tell the remarkable story of the devotion Freda had inspired. They reveal a love affair to rival Edward and Mrs Simpson’s ‘romance of the century’.
15
THE INTERNATIONAL PLAYGIRL
When the Prince of Wales replaced Thelma with Wallis, she reacted in a very different way from Freda, retaliating by having a quick fling with Prince Aly Khan. The glamorous couple set off to Spain together in one of his fast cars. Thelma admitted that part of Aly’s attraction was that he was adventurous: free from any ties he was ready to do anything, anywhere, at any time. She conceded that her actions were aimed at getting back at h
er former lover and she believed that Aly was aware of this.1
Aly was very eligible, and fully aware of his power over women. He considered himself to be the best rider and dancer and the most attractive man on the international scene. He provided just the escapism Thelma needed. Aly drove her at top speed in his sports car to Barcelona then, after a few days there, they moved on to Seville. His driving could be terrifying; his normal cruising speed was 80 miles an hour. Once, to keep a date in Paris, he drove the 600 miles from Cannes in eight hours. His friend and admirer, the songwriter and author Elsa Maxwell, often said to him that she would do anything in the world for him except get into a car when he was driving.2
Thelma’s relationship with Aly was far more tempestuous than her more domestic experience with the Prince of Wales. Always romanticising her situation, Thelma described herself as feeling like Carmen after the moody Don José had been replaced by the glamorous matador Escamillo.3 Unlike her affair with the prince, Thelma’s liaison with Aly was based on sex. According to one of Edward’s biographers, Thelma had told friends that he was a most unsatisfactory sexual partner.4 In contrast, Aly’s prowess in the bedroom was legendary. He liked to say: ‘I think only of the woman’s pleasure when I’m in love.’5 According to his biographer, as a teenager he was sent to Cairo to be taught Ismak by a Persian hakim. This practice taught a man how to restrain his sexual climax indefinitely to ensure the total satisfaction of his partner.6 It was mentioned by Richard F. Burton in his ‘Terminal Essay’ in his translation of The Arabian Nights and other sex manuals he translated.7
Before Wallis Page 26
