by Betty Burton
‘I’m over all that.’
‘I want you to stay at my place. I’m proud of it. I want you to see it. Ladybird will understand that I knew you before you went on that skiing holiday.’
‘You had better let me tell her. She’s a good person, Duke.’
‘I know that. But she can be bloody stupid. One night she’ll have too much drink and she’ll cry on the wrong shoulder.’
‘Why don’t you do what she wants, and join your two stables… businesses? Then you’d be there to keep her on the straight and narrow.’
‘I’d have to be mad.’
‘You need more capital to expand – she’s got it. She’d be good for you.’
‘She’d stop me wearing Durex and start knitting booties. She’s a broody hen, Lu.’
‘Why do you call her Ladybird?’
‘First time I took her clothes off, she was wearing red knickers with black spots.’
‘What’s she like?’
‘In bed?’
Eve shrugged her shoulders.
‘Why do you want to know that? It don’t mean anything.’
‘I’ve heard that before – “It don’t signify” – when you gave me the opal.’
‘Nor it don’t. What signifies is how people feel about each other. She’s very good, but she’s always thinking about old Max when we do it. She gives. She’s generous. Not like you, señorita: when you wants it you take it. Never mind the poor bugger that takes your fancy.’
He held her in a close, tender embrace that she hadn’t known he was capable of. ‘Come on down. We’ve got to do something about ourselves. We’ve got to keep tabs on one another. I can’t trust to Ma’s Fate and Destiny. I do best with addresses.’
‘I don’t know, Duke. I won’t know where I shall be.’
‘D’you go home to Roman’s?’
‘No! I can’t go there.’
‘Why? Your family’s there.’
‘I haven’t been in touch with them since I left, just the odd letter to let them know I’m still alive.’
‘That’s bad, Lu. You shouldn’t a’ done that.’
‘That’s only your opinion. Mine is that it was the only way I could get away from being held down by being a Lampeter Street factory girl.’
‘I’m not going to let you go out of my life again. I don’t care what you say. Will you just write a note sometimes and send it to me care of my ma? She won’t tell nobody but she’ll post it on.’
‘She knows where you are?’
‘A ’course she knows. We an’t much for letter writing, but she knows I’m set up here.’
‘I suppose you aren’t going home to join up?’
‘What do you think? England never did a thing for the likes of me. I’m not getting my legs shot off because some bloody officer can’t read a map the right way up. Haven’t you read what happened to us lower orders in the last war? Both sides the same. No fear. If they wants a war, let them get on with it. Look at that lot you were hobnobbing with the other night. They took their money and cleared off until it was safe to come back.’
She laughed delightedly. ‘And Duke Barney is going to relieve them of some of it.’
‘A lot of it.’ He held her gently. ‘Please come. I want to show off my place.’
‘I want to. But I’m not my own boss now.’
‘Are you married to somebody, Lu?’
‘No. I simply meant that I take orders from the Government.’
‘I meant who’s been teaching you to fuck like that?’
‘Duke Barney, how like a man to think that women need men to teach them.’
After he had gone, she sat on her balcony thinking of the promise she had made to look at his place.
She had obligation and loyalty to Dimitri and David Hatton, but it was Duke she wanted to be with.
But, not all the time.
* * *
Via the Electra grapevine Eve arranged for Janet McKenzie to telephone her. When she did, her Scottish accent was well evident. Some time, Eve would ask her whether this switch of accents had any significance.
‘What d’y actually want from me, Eve?’
Eve related about meeting Duke, but couldn’t find a secure way of talking about her concerns with Alex, only that she was worried about the health of a mutual friend of hers and David Hatton’s who was drinking.
‘It seems to me that you need y’r friend David to talk to you. I’ll let him know at once. Y’re doing well, Eve. Don’t forget to keep up with your relaxing exercises. Out of interest, Eve, how was the sex with your man?’
‘I’d need more superlatives than I can think of to tell you.’
‘What a Glasgow man would say was a “guid seein’ to”.’
Eve laughed. ‘Janet, you might be wearing your Scottish bonnet today, but that’s coarse.’
‘I know… but it was good, I can hear it in your voice. Don’t you worry any about your risky friend.’
Later in the day, Eve received a note handed in at reception which Nati brought to her. The envelope was sealed with a small blob of wax. Nati watched with interest as Eve opened it.
‘Is not bad news, señorita?’
‘No, no.’
‘It looks official, which to me is always bad news.’
‘It is from the British Embassy. They have a query about my motorcar.’
‘You need to go at once?’
‘Perhaps I need permission to drive now that Mendoza has gone. I never thought.’
Nati believed that Mendoza had been overfamiliar. She had seen the coffee-stain on the skirt and thought it was the kind of thing that chauffeurs got up to. Below stairs Eve had, according to Nati, gained some cachet for throwing him out on the highway.
‘Tell a porter to bring my car round to the front in fifteen minutes. I don’t want to be arrested for driving illegally.’ That was for sure.
Did fifteen minutes make it appear that she had been summoned to the embassy? Might it appear that way to people with nothing better to do than to watch what guests did and where they went? Was any member of the Ritz staff a potential informer? Eve worried. Perhaps she should have said that she would go after her siesta. There was a stone of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. It was probably nothing, but she wanted to know. Maybe it actually was about the car or her ability to drive. She carried a driving licence with her home address – in Ireland.
She hopped in the car and drove away too fast. Then she remembered her yoga breathing exercises, which calmed her.
The letter got her into the embassy, then into the small room of an official who greeted her politely with her name only. ‘Use my desk, Miss Anders. Your call will come through in about fifteen minutes. May I get you tea?’
‘Thank you.’
‘And biscuits?’
‘Just some tea, please.’
She was more nervous here, on what was legally British soil, than mixing with the people at the Hotel Royale.
‘Do you know…?’
‘No, Miss Anders.’
The tea was very good. It was more than likely that there was an expert tea maker in every British Embassy. She smiled inwardly at such levity. When at last the call came through, the shrill bell made her jump. She unhooked the earpiece and leaned towards the mouthpiece. A woman’s voice. ‘Miss Anders?’
‘Yes.’
‘A call from Portsmouth. Connecting you now.’
‘Hello? Who is that?’
‘Eve, it’s me, David.’
‘Right… oh good. Is it safe for me to talk?’
‘Yes, on this line. Janet seems to think that you have a problem.’
‘I have, sir, and it’s of your making. What did you think you were doing including Alex in this?’
‘Alex Povey?’
‘Of course Alex Povey. She says she’s Bureau and that you recommended her.’
‘Oh God! That part’s true. I’ve known her a long time, Eve. She’s exactly the person to keep us posted on what the new regim
e is up to. So we regularised her situation and made her Bureau. As far as your op is concerned, she was supposed to let you get on with it. Then if you weren’t getting into that set easily she would take you to one or two occasions.’
‘Then why send me out here?’
‘To be in Madrid. She’s a hundred miles away. What she and you do are two entirely different things. She stays there quietly gathering information on the new government.’
‘She’s not quiet. She contacted me in a very weird way.’
‘How, weird?’
Eve told him about the photograph and the outing to the tearoom.
‘Oh God. I’m sorry, Eve. Yes, she would have got you into Madrid society if it proved necessary, a short cut, but it wouldn’t have been done like some comic-book spy.’
‘So part of it is true? She is Bureau?’
‘Sort of… yes, Eve, but—’
‘No buts, David, I’m furious. Only you could have told her that I was here. She may have put me in danger. Alex Povey’s a liability. She’s playing cloak-and-dagger stuff. And she’s unravelling. She talks to her lover about being undercover, she drinks, she is unstable. I don’t want her round me, David. She’s too dangerous. I’m in with the people as you wanted. It’s going really well, but I could have done it without Alex Povey’s interference. You have to get her out of the picture until I can get home.’
‘I don’t—’
‘Call her to London. If you plan on keeping her here somebody needs to read her the riot act.’
‘She has all those horses.’
‘I know she has, sir, but don’t you think that I come first, before her damned horses? Her lover has a studfarm, just along the coast from her stables – he will look after them. Sort it out, David.’
‘All right, Eve. I can see the problem.’
‘Move fast, David. Get the Embassy to call her in here as you did me. And something else: by calling me in here I’ll bet you that Intelligence will know who your Bureau agents are, but I won’t have a clue who they are. You can tell Mr Faludi from me that I could do a better job than the ones doing it now… sir.’
Slamming the phone down, she sat back and heaved a sigh. Then wondered who might have been plugged in to the embassy switchboard.
The party was over. SIS men would know about Alex as well as herself. A bunch of schoolboys. She only hoped that if SIS here had been listening to her tirade, there was none resentful enough of Winston Churchill’s cherished Bureau to put a spoke in its wheel.
She must watch her every move now, as they might be watching too.
* * *
A day later, Eve received a call from Alex.
‘What do you think, Eve? I’ve been asked to visit London. David wants to see me. Exciting, isn’t it?’
‘What will happen to your mares?’
‘Paulo will take them on, it will only be for a short time. He jumped at the opportunity. Anyone would think that he was interested in breeding Lipizzaners. It will do him good to do without me for a while. Hot him up again.’
Eve was gratified that Duke had not gone home and into the arms of Alex, nor had he told her about his visit to the Ritz.
‘You’ll be all right without me?’
‘Yes, why not?’
‘You aren’t very responsive.’
‘It seems rather sudden.’
‘Afraid that I’ll run off with David?’
‘David Hatton? Not interested, Alex.’
‘How did I get the impression that you and he—’
‘I have no idea. He’s just not my type. Have a good time in England.’
12
There now being no royalty in Spain, the great and rich, who had been in exile during the years of the Republic, found Edward a gift to grace their dinners, luncheons, fountain-pool parties, gatherings in some of the great houses that had been ill-used during their owners’ absence. Society wanted to eliminate the bad years and bring back life as it had been.
Although she usually carried a loaded camera, Eve had all but given up her photographic expeditions. A glamorous and smiling woman will always get invitations to occasions such as these, and they put her right where she needed to be – where the Germans took every opportunity to renew their acquaintance with their Royal Highnesses, which was the title they were honoured with here.
The entourage staying at the Ritz was made up of close friends of Edward’s, who had supported him during his short reign, and, Eve assumed, some SIS men. She began to spend breakfast and dinner times when she was there, trying to pick them out. Occasionally she met direct eye contact, from which she slid away with the disinterest and boredom of a pretty woman who gets too much attention from too many men.
The tension around the exiled couple was often electric. One way and another, Eve’s path crossed theirs. There must be no trespass on the neutrality of the new regime because of its value as a place of contact between enemies; yet it was clear that the Windsors were being courted by emissaries from Germany, and corralled by their British protectors. When they were in public, Edward appeared always to have the same friend hovering at his elbow, and another man who appeared to be perhaps a secretary to the friend. Maybe British Intelligence? Maybe.
Frau von Mentz was always willing to gossip. She was very pro-monarchy but, of course, under the circumstances of accepting the hospitality of the Spain of General Franco, she only barely hinted at this. She could, however, be a supporter of the rightful King of England. And the position of the von Mentzes as part of Madrid’s exclusive set meant that they were always invited to any event His Royal Highness might attend. Herr Rudolph von Mentz was not as sociable as his wife, and was usually found on such occasions in a huddle with a number of cigar-smoking men.
‘Who is that man?’ Eve asked Frau von Mentz. ‘He is everywhere.’ Eve nodded in the direction of the man who seemed to have the ear of Edward. ‘And the other man? I see them in my hotel.’
‘He is a titled Englishman, a friend of the king from student days. I am told that he was the one who made the negotiations, he was always a supporter for Mrs Simpson to be Queen of England.’ That referral to ‘Mrs Simpson’ might be an indication that von Mentz didn’t entirely approve of ‘the king’s’ wife. ‘Who the second man is, I do not know. I do not know even his nationality. Probably British. He looks solid enough to be. A joke, my dear.’
Eve was a perfect ear for a gossip. She played dumb, knew nothing of the deviousness of kings and governments. ‘Is it right that she wasn’t allowed to be queen because she was American?’
‘That was the least of it. She had been married twice – and was still married when she became his mistress.’
‘She was his mistress when he was king?’ Eve looked amusedly scandalised. ‘How do you know?’
Frau von Mentz laughed and shook her head, then confided, ‘My dear, the only people in the whole world not to know were his own people. The British have a most heavy-handed state censorship. This is why the people were so shocked when he announced that he would abdicate rather than give her up. Rudolph and I were living in Portugal at this time, and the American, French and German newspapers were all full of the Great Royal Scandal.’
‘And that man – the one who is always with his Highness…?’
‘My opinion, for what it is worth, is that he has still the role of go-between.’
Eve, wide-eyed and eager to hear the gossip asked, ‘Between whom?’
‘Why do you imagine they are all here in Spain, my dear?’ Frau von Mentz patted Eve’s hand, and then indicated the room filled with her new-found acquaintances.
‘I didn’t imagine anything… enjoying the beautiful sun.’
‘You would not do for the world of intrigue. The baron tries to persuade him – the friend – that the war between England and Germany could be ended at once in a settlement between both countries which would put King Edward back on the English throne.’
‘Really? How do you know all these secrets?’
‘It’s all very dramatic. It must be exciting, being so close to what is going on… at your hunting lodge and that kind of thing.’
‘Oh no, not me. I refused to go. Rudolph is the one who likes intrigue and machinations.’ Frau von Mentz laughed. ‘Perhaps he sees himself as a king-maker. And after what happened, I am most pleased that I was not there. I hate hunting and all this stuff.’
‘What happened?’
Von Mentz put a finger to her lips and raised her eyebrows conspiratorially. ‘There was an incident.’
‘With the Windsors?’
‘Rudolph refused to say what happened. I believe that he… What is it you English say? He has eggs on his face? After two days they returned to the Ritz. Did you not notice anything?’
‘Nothing. I didn’t even realise that they were away from the hotel.’ Eve lowered her voice. ‘Was there trouble between them… you know… the Windsors?’
‘Oh no, he is as besotted as a youth, and afraid for her safety. The baron was more forthcoming than Rudolph. It appears that a shot was fired – through one of the lodge’s windows – not from a hunting rifle.’
Eve raised her eyebrows and allowed her jaw to drop. ‘Are you saying that… ? Good Lord, how awful.’
‘The bullet was found embedded in a dresser – Bavarian, rustic, but I do love it – definitely not from a hunting rifle, but from a different sort of firearm. The baron did explain to me, but I did not truly understand. A large window in the room where we eat has a hole in it.’
‘Does the baron believe that it was an attempt at assassination?’
‘He does not believe so. A serious attempt at assassination could have been achieved whilst they were on the terrace. He believes that it was meant as a warning.’