I said, “I’m going to Felixstowe for three weeks, and I’m sure they never heard of Charbonnel and Walker there.”
He said, “Give me your address. I shall have crrrystalized quince sent to you from Lympne. But why Felixstowe? Why, why?”
I felt him cool as soon as I spoke of Wally’s divorce.
“Oh dear,” he said. “The tigress’s cage is about to be opened wide. Do take care, Maybell.”
Lightfoot says London is quietly assembling into two camps. Those who are for HM, Wally, and True Love, and those who don’t want anything to upset the old Queen.
I said, “I know where Violet and Melhuish stand, but what about you and Doopie?”
He said, “You know we’re both romantics at heart, but frankly, I think there are more important battles on the horizon.”
He’s still talking about going to Spain and fighting the Fascists. Crazy. George Lightfoot couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag.
5th October 1936
Penelope Blythe says Ernest is seeing someone. No names. All she’s heard is that it’s an old acquaintance he looked up when he was in the States, and he’s very smitten. If Wally knows, she’s not letting on.
7th October 1936, Felixstowe
We are installed in a cold, cramped house at the ends of the earth. I don’t believe Bettenbrooke even looked the place over before he took it. HM will be furious when he finds out Wally’s living in such grim conditions. The sea is gray, the sky is gray, Wally’s mood is black. Pips is coming down on Friday, thank heavens.
A pause in the rain this afternoon, but our detective has warned us against venturing into town. He said the place is crawling with American press. So much for getting out of the spotlight of London. Wally says there’s nothing worth seeing in Felixstowe anyway.
10th October 1936
Pips arrived with extra blankets, more vermouth, and a checker board. She also confirmed the story about Ernest. Not only is he seeing someone, the “someone” is none other than Mary Kirk. He met up with her in New York in August, cried on her shoulder, no doubt, and now she’s planning to leave her husband and follow him to London. All this delivered in whispers after Wally had retired. I think she should be told. Wally hates not knowing things. And little Mary Kirk! Who’d have thought she’d keep popping up in Wally’s life like this? Bridesmaid when she married Win Spencer, matchmaker between Wally and Ernest, and now “the other woman.” What a busy bee. Perhaps I’ll wait till after the weekend before I bring it up with Wally.
Pips also says Walter Monckton just came back from overseas and is letting it be known that he thinks the divorce case is being badly handled. He says Goddard shouldn’t have had it moved out of London and he shouldn’t have hired a big-gun advocate like Birkett.
I said, “Well, Monckton recommended Goddard.”
Pips said, “I know, but you can see his reasoning. Instead of treating it like any ordinary little divorce, it’s drawing attention to the fact that there’s something big at stake. It could look like a put-up job.”
But it is a put-up job. And it’s too late to change everything now. We just have to stay in the house with the drapes closed and hope for the best.
13th October 1936
Wally says she already knew about Ernest and Mary.
I said, “Then why did he have to go to a hotel with a floozie?”
She said, “Because he doesn’t want her name dragged in. You know Ernest. Ever the gentleman. But it’s only happened because he’s on the rebound. If I called off the divorce, he’d drop her like that.”
We risked a brisk walk along the beach and met no one. I guess the press are very sensibly holed up in a cozy bar in town.
16th October 1936
Hattie and Judson are visiting. They brought magazines and smoked salmon and new rumba records. One week to go.
17th October 1936
An unexpected guest. HM drove through the dark and arrived in time to take in Wally’s breakfast tray. Cries of surprise and joy. Judson said, “Is this advisable, sir? Isn’t Wally supposed to be in purdah until after the divorce?”
HM said (a) no one need ever know he was here, and (b) if they do, what could be more natural than one friend visiting another when they’re in the throes of a divorce.
He’s given Wally a bracelet of channel-set rubies. It has “Hold Tight” engraved on the clasp. He’s staying the night. Bernie and Zita are going to motor down for the day tomorrow.
18th October 1936
A telephone call just as we were finishing luncheon. Fort Belvedere trying to track down HM. The Prime Minister wants a meeting at his earliest convenience and is willing to go to Sandringham if necessary, where he’d been given to understand HM was hosting a shooting party. But Sandringham were under the impression HM was already back at the Fort.
Hattie said, “Alex Hardinge must be having kittens. He’s mislaid the King!”
HM was very relaxed. He said, “It’s Sunday. Let the buggers wait.”
Wally was beside herself. She said, “Sir, please don’t antagonize Baldwin. And please don’t risk being discovered here. I haven’t endured two weeks in this hellhole to have my divorce thrown out of court.”
HM made a leisurely departure after dark. Kings don’t jump for the likes of Mr. Baldwin.
19th October 1936
Wally on the telephone for hours with HM. I ate dinner alone. He granted the Prime Minister an audience. Baldwin asked a number of personal questions relating to Wally, and HM put him firmly in his place. Reduced Baldwin to tears, effectively. She seemed reassured but went to bed without eating. She’s looking as thin as a pencil.
Not a light to be seen outside, and all I can hear is the boom of the sea. The ends of the earth.
20th October 1936
A different version of the Baldwin meeting from Pips, courtesy of Freddie who had it from Fruity Metcalfe who had it from Alex Hardinge.
Baldwin wants Wally’s divorce case dropped and for her to leave the country, so there can be an end to speculation that HM intends to marry her as soon as she’s free. Well, if Stanley Baldwin wants to get to the heart of the matter, he should apply to me. I could tell him everything he needs to know. Wally won’t leave the country. She’s made London her home and she likes it there. And as for the marrying, it will only happen if there are no obstacles to her becoming Queen Consort. Wally has always been firm on that point. If there’s opposition to her being crowned, she’ll retire quietly to Cumberland Terrace with her nest egg. If they won’t have Wally as Queen, they’ll just have to dig deeper and find HM another candle-end princess.
Wind rattling the windows. More rain. Three days to go.
21st October 1936
Ernest telephoned. He isn’t coming to Ipswich for the hearing. His lawyer will represent him. Wally seemed unsettled by his call. She said, “We weren’t unhappy, you know? If David hadn’t come along, I suppose we’d still be getting along perfectly well.”
23rd October 1936
Tomorrow is Wally’s hearing. She’s decided on a navy wool coat and a felt hat. No jewels, except for a platinum bangle. She said, “My one and only appearance as a Baptist missionary.” The first laugh we’ve had in weeks.
24th October 1936
The worst thing. This morning we were told Wally’s case had been postponed because the judge’s calendar was too full. The earliest it can now be heard is Tuesday, and we are prisoners here for the weekend. The town is full of American newspapermen, so we daren’t even peek outside, and the lawyers have absolutely forbidden any further contact with HM. Easier said than done. His telephone messages are so tearful and anxious, I wouldn’t put it past him to turn up here tonight. I feel like a switchboard girl, and Wally is like a caged animal.
25th October 1936
I made warm milk for Wally last night, and it seemed to help her to sleep. This morning, she was in a much brighter mood. She said, “David isn’t worrying, so why should I? He says everything will fall int
o place once I’m divorced, so let’s look on the bright side. Let’s make plans.”
I said, “You mean wedding plans?”
She said, “Wedding plans. Honeymoon plans. Coronation plans. We should go to Paris as soon as this is over, to start choosing my trousseau.”
She says they’ll keep on the Fort even after she’s had Windsor refurbished, because it’s a place where they’ve been happy. She intends getting rid of Sandringham House, and I agree with her. Let someone who enjoys freezing flatlands have it. Then there’s his ranch in Calgary. All very well when he was an adventurous young man, but he’s King now, and not so young. He needs homes appropriate to his position, in sunny climes where she can help him to relax after his kingly duties. Wally favors Majorca.
She’s thinking of Brussels lace over ice-blue satin for her wedding gown. It will probably be an April wedding. And for the Coronation, she’s thinking of using the coronet David had for his investiture as Prince of Wales. It’s an adorable little circlet set with pearls and amethysts and, as she says, will be far less ruinous to the hair than one of those dreadful old crowns. She’s full of modern ideas.
I feel very excited. We’ve been jogging along at a steady pace, but suddenly we’re on a runaway train. Little Minnehaha is going to be Queen of England, and I’m her right-hand woman.
26th October 1936
Rain again, and Wally is sitting on thorns. She says the old King’s dying has plunged her life into unsought chaos. I said, “Are you telling me you don’t really want to be Queen?”
“No,” she said, “I don’t mind being Queen, but they’re all going to make it so tricky for us. His mother’s against me, the Yorks are against me, that little pig-farmer Baldwin is against me. What if David caves in to them now? He’s quite easy to push around, you know? Where will that leave me?”
I said, “But David adores you. He’ll always take care of you.”
She said, “I imagine Thelma Furness believed that.”
I said, “It’s just the waiting that’s getting on your nerves. But it’s almost over. Why throw it all away now?”
She said, “I don’t know. My head’s spinning. Half of London has been waiting for me to fail. I’d hate them to think they’d scored some kind of victory over me. It might all be easier if Ernest and I just go away together. South Africa sounds interesting.”
I think Mary Kirk might have something to say about that. She’s left her husband to be with Ernest, after all. Fortunately, just at the moment of Wally’s greatest wobble, a courier arrived with a diamond pin and a note from HM. He says he cannot and will not live without her.
Pips has often said she doesn’t think HM is very bright, but he seems to me to have an astute understanding of Wally. Tomorrow is the big day.
27th October 1936, Wilton Place
Our exile is over. Mr. Birkett met us at court and told Wally to breathe deeply, speak up, and simply answer any questions the judge put to her. I’m told he’s one of the highest-paid advocates in the country. If that’s so, I wonder he doesn’t smarten up. He was wearing the most moth-eaten old rug on his head. The judge was extremely disagreeable, interrupting Wally when she was speaking, sneezing and coughing into a handkerchief, and there was one awful moment when he just sat in silence, glowering at Birkett. I thought he might be going to throw the case out. And then, all of a sudden, it was over. He awarded her a divorce decree nisi, which means she will be free to marry David in April. We were in and out in twenty minutes, and the press were prevented from leaving the courtroom until we were all safely out of the building and into our cars.
We went directly to Cumberland Terrace. It’s in a messy state, half of Wally’s things not unpacked and more boxes have arrived from Buckingham Palace, things David wants her to have. It all seems rather silly to me. In six months time, it will have to be packed up and sent back there. Wally said, “I don’t live my life that way, Maybell. Making do. I pay attention to every detail every moment of every day. Why would I use a creamer from Heal’s when I can have one that’s been used by monarchs?”
She’d told her cook we’d have Spanish omelettes at eight, but at seven HM appeared with chilled champagne and pheasant sandwiches and an enormous emerald on a platinum band.
Wally said, “Maybell was just leaving.”
Pips gave me dinner. Freddie was at a January Club dinner. Pips says Wally had better not start flashing a royal engagement ring around, the day after her divorce hearing, or she could find herself hauled back before the judge.
31st October 1936
To Carlton Gardens for tea. The boys are home on Long Leave.
Violet said, “You can wipe that silly smile off your face. It doesn’t matter what sordid lengths she goes to, Wally Warfield will never be Queen.”
Violet was a bad loser when we used to play Crazy Eights, and she’s never grown up.
I said, “So far you’ve been wrong in everything you’ve predicted. You said she’d never get as far as Royal circles. She did it within months. You said she’d never go to the Kents’ wedding ball or the Jubilee ball, and she went to both.”
She said, “It’s a pity you clutter your mind with such trivia.”
I said, “There’s nothing cluttered about my mind. I have it all written down in my diaries. Every step in Wally’s climb to the throne, and the names of all those swankpots and sneerers who’ve scoffed at her.”
Rory said, “Gosh. I’d like to read those.” Violet sent him out to walk the spaniels.
Ulick said, “I hope none of our names appear.”
Violet said, “Do our names appear, Maybell?”
I said, “Yes, they do. You’ll be comforted to know that every objection you’ve raised has been carefully recorded. No one will ever be able to accuse the Melhuishes of sitting on the fence.”
Ulick said, “This is insufferable. I shall speak to Father.”
That boy is old before his time.
Friday to the Fort. Pips and Freddie are coming. Also the Crokers and the Erlangers. “Little America,” Violet calls it. Sour grapes, of course.
1st November 1936, Fort Belvedere
The men played golf yesterday afternoon. Freddie says he’s never seen HM play so well, nor be in such good spirits, and I had the same impression at breakfast this morning. HM said, “Things are going our way at last, Maybell.”
Oxer Bettenbrooke says the British people are one hundred percent behind him.
Ethel said, “I thought the British people didn’t know about Wally.”
He said, “It’s not widely reported, true. But if they knew, they’d support him. All those factory workers he’s taken the time to visit, all those Tommies who remember how gallantly he fought in the Great War, if it comes to a confrontation over the Wally Issue, theirs are the voices that will be heard.”
HM said, “Oxer’s right. A little thing like this isn’t going to bother them.”
Ethel said, “I know Wally keeps a slim line, sir, but I’d never call her ‘a little thing.’”
He laughed.
2nd November 1936, Wilton Place
Dinner at South Audley Street. Lightfoot says big tables are hard on Doopie. Figs and ham, oxtail ragout, pear tart, all very well done. If Doopie can produce a decent dinner, why can’t Violet? She was wearing a sweet pin-tucked gown, burgundy with a little ivory lace. Lightfoot holding her hand at every opportunity.
I was there to be pumped for information. Melhuish said, “What’s your pal up to this week, Maybell? It sounds like the Great Terror at Buck House. Wigram’s out as Private Secretary. Halsey’s out as Comptroller. Even Trotter’s out as Groom-in-Waiting, after all the years he’s served. It’s a bloody disgrace.”
I happen to know that Brigadier Trotter had continued to fraternize with Thelma Furness, so the man has only himself to blame. He was as old as the hills, anyway.
Flora said, “Skinner says they have gartoon shows now at Uncle King David’s house. And bath salts.”
This
is the kind of thing kitchen help chatters about. Violet tutting.
I said, “Bath salts! Well, that’s a capital offense!”
She said, “And heaven only knows what he’s spending on coal. Marina Kent says he has the furnaces roaring.”
Lightfoot said, “We mustn’t criticize that, Vee. Think of the Welsh coal miners. I’m sure he’s doing it for the sake of the Principality.”
Doopie said, “Or burnin old wood. Drow anudder gortier onna vire, Wally! Wades nod, wand nod!”
Thank goodness someone in the family has kept their sense of humor.
3rd November 1936
Today HM opened Parliament, and Wally and I watched him from the Distinguished Strangers’ Gallery. The next time he does it, Wally will be beside him in that gilded coach. She watched everything very closely and made notes.
5th November 1936
Randolph Putnam telephoned to tell me Roosevelt has been reelected. I can’t say he ever did a damned thing for me except steal my gold. Randolph said he’d seen Junior and his awful wife at Nora Sedley Cordle’s museum gala, and they were very curious to know how close I am to Wally Simpson. Le tout Baltimore is talking about her, apparently. They should be talking about me, too. Last night I wore my chocolate silk and danced across a glass floor with the King of England.
6th November 1936
Gone With the Windsors Page 30
