XI
Thankfully, Alex’s mother and Uncle Walter took charge of his birthday celebrations. Alex had always only ever had a small circle of friends, but many of these were unavailable due to military service or prior commitments, and he was starting to despair. Even Teddy Palmer had not responded to his invitation. Simon, of course, had jumped at the opportunity and had also asked whether he could bring a partner, which somewhat surprised Alex as Simon had never spoken of the opposite sex previously.
The celebration was starting to look like it would be two friends and one partner enjoying a discreet meal somewhere, with his mother and uncle. Alex’s mother could not help but notice that he was becoming dejected at the prospect of such a low-key celebration, and, at her insistence, Uncle Walter arrived, full of bonhomie and enthusiasm, and announced that he had booked a private dining room at the Savoy Grill in the Strand.
Alex had not visited the Savoy previously, but he was aware of its reputation as one of London’s most luxurious hotels. He was overwhelmed at the generosity of his adopted uncle, and even more so when Uncle Walter told him that the private room accommodated twelve diners, so discounting his uncle, mother, himself, Simon and his partner, Teddy (hopefully), plus George Inkerman (Alex’s former employer) and his wife, whom Uncle Walter had invited, there were four vacant places.
‘What about Malmesbury’s boy, whom you brought to the house? He seemed very presentable,’ suggested Uncle Walter, ‘Might he come?’
‘I am not sure, Uncle,’ replied Alex, ‘I don’t think he is in town; I believe he is back with his unit. But I will send a message to the house to invite him, and if he is unable to come, he does have a charming sister whom I have met, and who seems to enjoy a bit of a party.’
‘Whoever, whoever, my boy,’ stated Uncle Walter, ‘It is your party, so invite whomsoever you wish.’
When Alex telephoned Ennismore Gardens, Ross the butler informed him that Charles was out of town and uncontactable. He would, however, leave a note for Lady Beatrice to say that Alex had called. Attempts to track down Charles through Commander Jeffers also bore little fruit; Jeffers merely informed Alex that Charles was unavailable.
That evening, Teddy Palmer called to say she would be delighted to accompany Alex to his birthday celebrations, and that positively put a spring back into Alex’s step. His mother also took a call from Beatrice, who announced that she would love to come as well, but she had a prior engagement that she could change though her partner for the evening could not. The countess graciously extended Beatrice’s invitation to include her guest.
*
The day of Alex’s birthday soon came around, and although he had been spending the time busily re-establishing his journalistic skill, Alex’s mind was more focused on his birthday. Alex had invited Teddy to Onslow Gardens to meet his mother and uncle before they left for the restaurant. Teddy’s arrival was magnificent, and Alex was again captivated by her beauty. The previous image of the girl grieving for her lost brother, which had become embedded in Alex’s mind, was washed away by the sight of Teddy dressed in a fashionable waisted, topaz-blue evening dress studded with seed pearls in an asymmetric pattern. There was no doubt that it set off her strawberry-blonde hair; she was a vision of absolute loveliness that quite took Alex’s breath away.
Escorting Teddy into the drawing room, Alex introduced her to his mother and Uncle Walter, who had arrived earlier. Stupidly, Alex presented them both somewhat formally but using their English adopted names; Teddy was momentarily confused by the stiffness of the introductions, and she was undecided whether to curtsy or shake hands.
However, Alex’s mother stepped up and embraced Teddy, kissing her on both cheeks in traditional welcome. ‘Please,’ she stated in a voice that was both warm and assertive, ‘come and sit down.’
Uncle Walter, taking his cue from Alex’s mother, caught Teddy’s hand and kissed it, remarking quaintly, ‘I’m at your service, Miss Palmer.’
A short while later, they travelled to the restaurant in Uncle Walter’s car. Alex remembered his first experience of the black Rolls-Royce limousine that had met them off the boat all those years previously, and he recalled how overawed he had been at the luxury. He took Teddy’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, and was glad when he felt the gentle pressure of reciprocation.
Arriving at the Savoy was pure theatre. The Rolls-Royce pulled off the Strand into Savoy Court and joined the queue of three other equally large and impressive motorcars, which were waiting to divest themselves of their passengers. As the car made its way under the porch, the door was opened by a smart concierge, who aided passengers in stepping down from the vehicle. Uncle Walter led them into the hotel, and, like a ship in full sail, steered the party towards the Savoy Grill.
Alex noticed Simon Potts waiting in the reception area, and he brought the party to a halt. ‘Simon,’ he called, ‘I am sure that you remember my mother and uncle from school…’
Simon shook their hands.
Alex continued, ‘And this is a very good friend of mine, Teddy Palmer.’
Simon shook her hand.
‘Teddy, this is my friend from school, Simon Potts,’ Alex concluded.
Soon, a young lady joined Simon, who declared, ‘Alex, let me introduce Cordelia Batham-Smythe, my fiancée.’
Alex was stumped. ‘Fiancée?’ Pottsie had not told him that he was engaged! He tried to hide his surprise, but it was clear that Simon relished Alex’s slight discomfort.
‘Sorry, did I not say that I was engaged?’ Simon asked, affecting innocence.
Alex regarded Simon’s girlfriend. She was a handsome girl, he concluded; not a classic beauty, as she was rather too tall and slightly too angular for that, but she was, nevertheless, attractive. ‘Charmed,’ said Alex, taking the proffered hand and glancing it with his lips, before introducing the rest of the party.
‘Batham-Smythe,’ observed Uncle Walter, ‘Are you any relation to Godfrey Batham-Smythe?’ he asked.
‘He’s my father,’ responded Cordelia, ‘do you know him?’
‘We have done business in the past,’ commented Uncle Walter evasively.
At that point, a porter approached Uncle Walter with a note on a silver tray, which he took and read. ‘That’s a shame,’ announced Uncle Walter, ‘it seems that Inkerman has been detained and will not be joining us, but he extends his most convivial felicitations to you, Alex, and hopes that you have a delightful evening.’
Alex was unconcerned, he had met George Inkerman infrequently during his brief employment with the company, and he recalled that the boss was not held in the highest esteem by those who worked for his company; if anything, that slight cloud had lifted from his birthday celebrations.
There was a flurry at the entrance as Beatrice Phipps and her partner arrived; Alex made his introductions, and then Beatrice introduced her young partner.
‘May I present Prince Mikhail Andreevich Romanov?’ were the seven words that stopped the party dead in its tracks.
‘Vashe Vysochestvo, my imeyem chest, [Your Highness, we are honoured,]’ said Uncle Walter, snapping his heels together and executing a formal court bow.
Alex’s mother curtsied fully, and Alex, realising that he was rooted to the spot, copied his uncle and bowed, as did Simon. Poor Teddy was perplexed.
Beatrice asked in a Machiavellian manner, ‘Was it something that I said?’
Ignoring her completely, Prince Mikhail Andreevich said in perfect English, ‘Come, come, please. Let us enjoy ourselves and not be so damned formal. My name is Misha among friends, although I am unsure whether to include Beatrice in that number for the embarrassment she has caused.’ He laughed, and the ice was broken with the ease that those who are of the aristocracy have in calming discomfiture.
They made their way into the private dining room, and as they did so Teddy drew Alex to one side and said that she did not
understand what had occurred in the hotel lobby. Alex usually avoided talking about his past to anybody, but he felt at ease explaining it to Teddy. ‘My birth name is Aleksander Nikolayevich Karlov, and my mother is the Countess Tatiana Ivanovna Karlova; my father is, or was, Count Nikolai Aleksandrovich Karlov, but we believe he died during the Bolshevik uprising before I was born. My adopted uncle is Count Vladimir Mikhailovich Komarov, and we are all Russians who are loyal to the tsar.’
Teddy still looked incredulously confused.
Alex went on, ‘Beatrice has just introduced her guest as a Russian Imperial Prince – a distant relative of the old tsar admittedly, and probably about eightieth in line, but nevertheless an Imperial Prince – and I suppose that it is an honour that he is celebrating my birthday with us, but I am bloody annoyed with Beatrice for not having warned us!’
‘Don’t worry about Beatrice,’ retorted Teddy, regaining her composure and smiling, ‘that is her all over; she does like her melodramas, and she is extremely skilled at causing embarrassment. Of course, the “butter would not melt in her mouth” appearance is all an act; she knows exactly what she is doing!’
‘Do you not like her?’ asked Alex.
‘I’m rather used to her antics now, but, occasionally, like now, she does somewhat surpass herself!’
*
The dinner was superb; Uncle Walter had chosen well. There was a rich game consommé; followed by the lightest mousse de sole; then the most succulent noisette of lamb cooked in the Viennese style, with delicate carrots, fine beans and pommes fondant (fondant potatoes); and, for dessert, a macédoine de fruits (fruit salad). Each course was served with a perfectly complementary wine. A choice of excellent French cheeses, and decanters of cognac and port wine were brought to conclude the meal.
The conversation over dinner was a mixed blend of both Russian and English, and Alex found himself translating for Teddy when the conversation dropped into his mother tongue. Cordelia and Simon seemed to be in a world of their own. Alex noted that Beatrice appeared to be following both conversations easily, and he wondered how many of the Phipps family spoke or understood Russian.
Tapping the table gently with his knife, Uncle Walter gained the attention of the guests. ‘Your Imperial Highness, Alexander, ladies and gentlemen…’ he began.
Alex glanced at Teddy, giving her a wink.
Uncle Walter went on to give a flattering and heartfelt tribute to the birthday boy, which concluded some ten minutes later with a sincere desire that Alex’s next twenty-two years might be less adventurous than his first.
As Alex rose to respond, he wondered how likely that would be, but he thanked Uncle Walter sincerely for a wonderful birthday celebration and the generous gift of an elegant Alvis Speed 4.3-litre sports saloon, with which he had been surprised earlier. He concluded by quipping that he would, therefore, have to learn to drive.
Enthusiastic applause was his reward for his response.
Alex’s mother suggested diplomatically that she was becoming a little exhausted, and she asked if Walter would be so kind as to take her home. Alex did not think that she looked unusually tired, and concluded that it was likely a prearranged cue for the older generation to leave the young to party into the night.
Prince Misha, as he was becoming affectionately known, suggested that the party should move to somewhere with a little more life. Simon, who was rapidly proving himself to be a fount of all knowledge of London nightlife, ventured that Jack Harris and his band were currently playing at the London Casino Club in Old Compton Street.
Beatrice chipped in with, ‘Old Compton Street? That is in Soho, isn’t it? How frightfully Bohemian!’
The party all agreed that the London Casino Club was an excellent choice, and would be a bit of an adventure, so they headed back to the hotel lobby, and Alex asked the concierge of the Savoy to secure him a taxi.
The concierge explained, ‘That will not be necessary, sir; Mr Compton took a hackney carriage, and left his car at your disposal.’
Alex’s birthday-party guests exited the hotel, and the doorman raised his hand and beckoned to a line of cars, and Uncle Walter’s sleek Rolls-Royce glided forwards to collect them.
Even though it was a large car, seating six was difficult, and Simon and Cordelia ended up on the occasional seats that the chauffeur arranged after the others were seated. For comfort, Alex placed his arm around Teddy’s shoulders, and she looked at him, smiled and placed her hand on his knee.
*
Arriving outside the London Casino Club, the friends were dismayed to see a queue stretching around the corner into Greek Street; nevertheless, they extricated themselves from the car and dismissed the driver.
Alex was about to suggest finding somewhere else to go, when Prince Misha said, ‘Come on then,’ before heading to the front of the queue, much to the loud complaints of those who were waiting.
Evidently, the doorman recognised the prince, and he unhitched a rope barrier to allow the party to jump the queue and enter; he gave a salute and a cheery greeting of, ‘Good evening, Your Highness.’
‘It’s one of the benefits of notoriety,’ Prince Mikhail confided in Alex and Teddy, with a wry smile.
Although the club was busy, the party was shown to a prominent table not far from the stage. Alex wondered whether he would have commanded the same luxury had he arrived with just Teddy Palmer, and acknowledged quietly that they would probably still be queueing outside. Celebrity status had its advantages, but he also admitted that, in the line of work that he was joining, such recognition would be a distinct disadvantage.
Jack Harris and his band were excellent, and the party’s enjoyment of the evening was lubricated heavily by several bottles of champagne, which, despite protestation by Alex, were signed for by Prince Mikhail with a flourish.
It was well after 2.00am that the party broke up with kisses and hugs all round, and promises to do it all again in the future; it was a happy parting. Simon and Cordelia chose to walk home to Simon’s flat, which was quite close; Prince Misha and Beatrice flagged down a passing taxi; then Alex turned to Teddy and announced that he would escort her home. There was no need, Teddy hinted, but Alex insisted and placed his arm around Teddy’s waist, and she rested her head on his shoulder as the friends sought transport.
After a few moments, Alex spotted another cab with its flag up, and he almost leapt into its path to attract the driver’s attention. The cab pulled up, and the driver leaned out of the window.
‘Where to, sir?’ enquired the driver.
Teddy crouched slightly, and gave the address as, ‘Cavendish Court, Pembroke Road.’
As is the way with London taxi drivers, after Alex and Teddy were seated comfortably in the taxi, he drove them towards Kensington without a shadow of a doubt that he knew exactly where he was going.
They pulled up outside a seven-storey, red-brick block of purpose-built apartments that dated from the 1920s.
‘Will your parents be up?’ enquired Alex.
‘God only knows. I couldn’t stand living with them past my eighteenth birthday, so I share this flat with a girlfriend whom I met at school. She’s in the country visiting her parents before going off to join up, so I am currently rattling around the place on my own. I say,’ Teddy suggested spontaneously, ‘if you see me to my door, I might just reward you with a nightcap.’
Alex, gallant to the end, agreed and paid off the cabbie.
The apartment building was like hundreds of others that were built in London during the second decade of the twentieth century to accommodate the need for a growing professional workforce. Typically, there were two apartments per floor, separated by the central staircase and lift; on the ground floor was a desk for the concierge, who had long since retired for the night by the time Teddy opened the door and let them both into the block, before summoning the lift.
‘We’re on
the fourth floor,’ she announced, having stepped into the lift, and held the lift door open for Alex to enter.
He joined her, and she pressed the button for the correct floor as the doors closed. The lift was not very large, and Alex found himself comfortably close to Teddy; indeed, sufficiently close for Alex to inhale her sensual smell of womanhood. Alex took Teddy’s hand and leaned forwards to give her a light kiss on the end of her nose, but as he did so Teddy tilted her head back, and his lips met hers as the lift shuddered to a halt on the fourth floor. Teddy opened the lift door and, still allowing Alex to hold her hand, guided him to her apartment to the left of the lift.
Opening the front door, Teddy said, ‘The sitting room is just along there…’ She pointing down the parquet-floored corridor. ‘Drinks are on the trolley, so please mix me a Martini. I am just going to powder my nose.’ Teddy disappeared through a door on the right of the hallway.
Following instructions, Alex opened the door to the lounge and found the drinks trolley, complete with an ice bucket in which a dozen or so cubes of ice floated in the melted remains of what had once been their companions. Mixing the gin with vermouth in a cocktail shaker with three cubes of ice, he vigorously shook Teddy’s cocktail before decanting it into a cocktail glass. Not being an expert at the mixing cocktails and not finding a lemon to dress the drink, Alex hoped that his efforts would be acceptable. He poured himself a small measure of Scotch whisky, which he drowned with soda.
If Alex had thought that Teddy was a vision of loveliness at the start of the evening, when she joined him in the lounge, she was exquisite. Teddy had changed into champagne-coloured silk pyjamas that were covered by a matching silk dressing gown. Alex thought her radiant.
As he handed Teddy the cocktail, she said, ‘I just had to get out of that dress! It was suffocating me!’ Teddy sipped the cocktail. ‘Not bad,’ she complimented, ‘at least you can make a decent drink.’
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