A Question of Trust

by Penny Vincenzi

  She decided to sleep on it and see where her instinct led her in the morning; for Wendelien was quite right, she could easily cancel her lunch with Leo Bennett.

  ‘Darling Ned, I’m so sorry I’m late. I – well, I got held up.’

  ‘Nothing serious, I hope.’

  ‘No! Goodness, no. It’s actually rather exciting – I’m flying to New York tomorrow. With Freddie Bateman, my photographer friend.’

  ‘Is he the one who has you hanging out of helicopters? Don’t you go jumping off the Statue of Liberty.’

  ‘’Fraid I’ve got to,’ said Diana. ‘It’s part of the brief.’

  ‘Diana!’ He looked genuinely anxious, so much so she was touched. Then he grinned. ‘Very funny.’

  ‘Yes, I thought so.’ She sparkled at him over her champagne. ‘I’m jolly excited, anyway.’

  ‘I bet you are. Now, I heard just today from Ludo that Johnathan is getting married again. True or false?’

  ‘Quite true.’

  ‘Anyone you know?’

  ‘Well, I’ve met her. Terribly dull. And a goody-goody. It makes me wonder what Johnathan was doing with me.’

  ‘He loved you, I expect.’

  ‘Do you think so? He pretty well hates me now. And probably with good reason. Oh, it was so wrong, what I did. Marrying him when I – well, when I knew I didn’t love him. I married the pre-war lifestyle, the London house, the social scene; being dragged off to Yorkshire just finished everything.’

  ‘Well, it must have been a terrible culture shock. I’m not sure I could cope with it either. I’m not a country mouse any more than you are. Anyway, let’s order quickly, and then we can talk. I need your advice.’

  ‘Mine? Ned, I am really not the sort of person you should take advice from. Unless it was about whether you should shorten your skirt or cut your hair.’

  ‘I think I could decide both those things for myself. No, I want to talk to you about something even more important than that.’

  She laughed, picked up the glass of champagne the waiter had poured her and said, ‘Well, here we are, having supper at the Savoy, where you broke my heart all those years ago.’

  ‘Not quite broken. Minor fracture, perhaps.’

  ‘Ned! At the very least, a major one.’

  ‘Oh, all right. Anyway, I thought we should lay that ghost. We’ve never been here alone together since.’

  ‘No, of course we haven’t. Oh, Ned. How I adored you. You were so handsome – well, you still are, of course – and so charming, and so special.’

  ‘And you were so beautiful – and you still are – and so charming and so special. You could have said we were made for each other. Except for the one little thing.’

  ‘Yes, the one little thing. You didn’t love me.’

  Diana looked at him. There was something different about him, and she couldn’t quite work out what. He seemed less terminally anxious, more relaxed. It was lovely to see.

  ‘Do you know,’ she said, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been in love. Except with you, and that doesn’t count.’

  ‘Oh, darling, that’s so sad. Not even that photographer chap?’

  ‘Who, Freddie? No, absolutely not. But no, I’ve never gone weak at the knees, or felt anyone was too good to be true. Anyway –’ she laughed, a light, manufactured laugh – ‘I suppose I have a little time yet …’

  ‘Of course you do. There’s probably someone walking along the Strand right now, thinking, “I’ll just pop into the Savoy for a nightcap” – and there he’ll be, and there will go your knees.’

  ‘I doubt it.’ She sighed. ‘It’s not very good for morale. I keep wondering what’s wrong with me, what a bad person I must be.’

  ‘Diana,’ said Ned, ‘you are not a bad person. You are so far from that. You’re actually a very good person.’

  ‘Oh, Ned. If only.’

  ‘No, you are. All right, you might not be accepted into a convent …’

  ‘God, I hope not.’

  ‘But you were a very good wife to Johnathan –’

  ‘I was a terrible wife to Johnathan.’

  ‘No, you weren’t, you went up to Yorkshire to live, for God’s sake …’

  ‘But then I kept running away. To show off in front of the cameras.’

  ‘Yes, but you’re so good at it, and you always went back to Yorkshire. And you’ve told me how hard you tried to make it all work and you’re a wonderful mother, anyone can see that. And Johnathan blaming you for that miscarriage, that was so outrageous, and yet you never hit back – and you’re such a good friend, so loyal and always there when I, at any rate, need you, and I’m sure for everyone else too …’

  ‘Oh, Ned, stop it,’ said Diana, laughing. ‘This is all very flattering, but it’s a bit rose-tinted. I was really mean this afternoon to Wendelien.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure she’ll get over it. But properly mean, in a way that would really hurt someone – I know you would never do anything like that. You’re just not capable of it …’

  There was no doubt he meant it, his smile as he finished his testimony to her non-existent virtue very sweet. She suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable.

  ‘Tell me what you want advice about,’ she said. ‘What’s your problem?’

  ‘Well. The big white chiefs at the hospital don’t like me. They’ve demanded my allowing mothers into the wards stops, or rather I stop trying to insist on it. Sisters are on their side too. And I can’t, Diana, or rather I won’t. It’s wrong, it’s brutal, it’s like being back at prep school, only at least we were fit and well and understood what we were doing there.’

  ‘Well, that’s easy. Of course you must fight on.’

  ‘Easier said than done. The chairman of the board of governors of the hospital, charmer called Sir Neil Lawson, really does hold the whip hand – he can make my life impossible, get rid of me altogether if he wants to. In fact, he threatened to, if I didn’t drop my campaign.’

  ‘Bastard.’

  ‘Indeed. And there’s more. He said he’d heard rumours about what he called my private life.’

  ‘What? That’s that pig of a Digby Harrington.’

  ‘And without my assurance that they’re unfounded, as he put it, he will make quite sure everyone in the hospital knows. Diana, it’s awful. I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Oh, Ned, what a mess.’

  ‘I absolutely don’t know what to do. I can’t turn a deaf ear to those children crying, just do my job and go home. And anyway, what about the other threat? I can’t lie outright, I simply can’t.’

  ‘Of course you can’t. But – oh, Ned, I wish I could help. I’ll try, of course, but –’ She felt suddenly deeply sad, felt tears welling, brushed them away.

  ‘Oh, God,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry, Diana. I’m afraid I’ve given you a rather dismal evening … would you like to dance?’

  ‘Not dismal at all,’ said Diana. ‘But I’d love to dance. Just once. Then I must go, I’ve got a busy day tomorrow. Even before I get on the plane.’

  ‘What are you doing in the States? Tell me, divert me. Being photographed stark naked, galloping along a beach at dawn, standing up on a horse?’

  ‘No, but it would make a great picture. I’ll suggest it to Freddie. Thanks, Ned. Maybe you could find a new career as a fashion editor? Oh, listen, come on, it’s a foxtrot, my favourite.’

  They both danced rather well; people watched them from their tables, smiling, and several of the other dancers stopped to admire them. As they passed a neighbouring table on their way back to their own, a man, unmistakably American, beckoned to them.

  ‘That was great,’ he said to Ned. ‘I don’t know which of you dances better, you or your wife.’

  ‘Oh, she does,’ said Ned, smiling.

  As they sat down again, Diana looked at him, her eyes dancing.

  ‘There you are,’ she said. ‘There’s your solution. You can marry me, that’ll scotch the rumours. Then we can buy a great big house, and who
will know what goes on behind the doors?’

  Ned laughed. ‘Brilliant. It would almost be worth doing, just to see people’s reactions.’

  ‘What do you mean, almost? Am I really such an appalling prospect?’

  ‘You’re a wonderful prospect. Brains and beauty. And I’ll tell you what people’s reaction would be, they’d say we should have done it years ago.’

  ‘Well, there you are. And probably we should. Now look, I really must go.’

  ‘Oh, yes, you’ve got this busy day tomorrow. So if it’s not riding a horse starkers along a beach, what is it?’

  ‘Oh – it’s sort of admin,’ said Diana. ‘Terribly complicated. You really don’t want to hear about it.’

  Which of course, she thought, as she kissed him briefly before climbing into her taxi, he wouldn’t.

  Chapter 52

  ‘I’ve persuaded Campbell to let me come and cover it,’ said Josh. ‘It’s quite a story. Support visit from a minister. And what a minister, for God’s sake.’

  Tom had that morning been telephoned in his office by a very VIP cabinet minister to say he would be coming to Purbridge that week. ‘To join you on the stumps for the day,’ he said. ‘Might help a bit, you never know. Seeing as it’s too close to call. Attlee’s idea. OK with you?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tom. ‘I mean, yes, of course. It would be terrific, thank you very much indeed.’

  ‘Right, right. Well, we’ll meet you at the local HQ? That is, couple of my staff and me. Shall we say eight a.m.? I’m relying on you to get a good programme together and the earlier we start the more we can cram in. Till Friday, then.’

  ‘Friday,’ said Tom to himself in awed tones, and the minute the line cleared, he rang Josh. Clearly impressed, he told him he’d ring back, and did within thirty minutes, with the news that he would be there as well. ‘Quite a coup, Tom. The powers that be obviously consider you a very important marginal.’

  ‘Yes, well, we are. It’s terribly close, according to the polls. Only thing is, what on earth do we – I – say to someone like that? I’ll be totally out of my depth.’

  ‘Oh, rubbish. You won’t have to say anything to him anyway, he’ll be far too busy even to speak to you. They’re all the same, Tom, they make these grand gestures of supporting you, when all they want to do is support themselves, play to the gallery, get people hanging on their every word. It’s just an ego trip, really. He’ll arrive in a cloud of glory, shake your hand and then he’ll be off, telling everyone how marvellous he is. Not in so many words, of course, but – anyway, I presume your agent will have some programme worked out for him?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said Tom. ‘We’ve got two car-manufacturing plants, the high street and the working men’s club.’

  ‘Sounds good. And it’ll boost your column inches by loads. You’ll see.’

  ‘Hope so. Apparently, some constituency or other, also too close to call, is literally measuring the columns, by the inch, to see who’s winning the publicity battle each day.’

  ‘Well, this’ll put you up into the yards, I reckon. Anyway, it’s marvellous,’ said Josh. ‘You should get Alice to come. She’s such good copy.’

  ‘I’m trying. It’ll mean her bringing Charlie, that’s the only thing. Her mother can take the other two, but he’s such a nightmare. Screams all the time.’

  ‘Won’t matter,’ said Josh. ‘He’s a baby. The minister might even kiss him.’

  ‘He’d be a brave man,’ said Tom, laughing.

  ‘They’ll do anything for a photo. Even at that level. No, tell Alice to come, tell her I’ll be there, I’ll look after her.’

  Tom looked at the phone slightly doubtfully as he put it down. Josh knew about Diana and he was very fond of Alice. He didn’t think Josh would deliberately tell her, but he could easily give something away, with a thoughtless word, a careless joke even. Christ, he was in a mess. A filthy, foul mess. And it was all his own fault.

  He telephoned Alice and asked her if she’d come to Purbridge in two days’ time. ‘We have a minister coming. It would be wonderful if you could. You can bring Charlie.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. It’s desperately important this, Alice. Everyone says you should be there.’

  ‘Everyone meaning Donald, I suppose.’

  ‘No. Everyone. Including Josh.’

  ‘Josh!’

  ‘Yes. He said it was terribly important you came. He’s covering it, said to tell you he’d look after you.’

  ‘I don’t need looking after,’ said Alice irritably.

  ‘I know. But Charlie might.’

  ‘Josh has offered to look after Charlie?’

  ‘Yes – if he has to.’

  Diana was late arriving at the Berkeley. It was not entirely intentional; indeed, she was renowned in her social circle for arriving slightly too early for her hostess’s comfort. But she had spent too long packing, partly because she kept stopping to rehearse what she was going to say to Leo Bennett, and then had trouble getting a taxi. So that by the time she arrived at the restaurant, it was one fifteen rather than the agreed one o’clock and her hair was uncombed, her nose unpowdered. The maître d’ bowed and said the gentleman had only just arrived himself, which was at once soothing and irritating since clearly he would have been late if she had not. The combination of those emotions, combined with the further complications of still not being quite sure what she was going to say, made her mildly cross, and when she was cross her dark eyes became even more brilliant, her lovely mouth a little fuller. Leo Bennett, therefore, found himself almost shocked by her beauty. And she, for her part, taking the hand held out to her, was aware of only one thing: not (as she absorbed later) his dark blonde hair, nor his almost navy blue eyes, nor his height (considerable), nor his suit (grey, perfectly cut), but only that her knees, which had, until that moment, been their normal strong selves, had become strangely weak.

  ‘Miss Southcott,’ he said, bowing very slightly over her hand, then waiting while she removed her coat and gloves, retaining her hat, and settled herself onto her chair before smiling at him graciously across the table.

  ‘I’m so sorry I’m late,’ she said. ‘I’m flying out to New York this afternoon, as I think I told you, and my packing got the better of me.’

  ‘How very smart,’ he said. ‘To be flying to New York. Do you know it well?’

  ‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘In fact, it’s my first visit. So I’m very excited.’

  ‘I expect you are. Where are you staying?’

  ‘The Pierre.’

  ‘Ah, New York’s finest. You will suit one another,’ he added, his extraordinary eyes smiling very deeply into hers. ‘Now, would you like a glass of champagne while we order, or are you a cocktail girl?’

  ‘Both, please,’ she said. ‘That is, a Buck’s Fizz, if I may.’

  ‘Of course. Now, just so you know, they are called Mimosas in New York.’

  ‘Oh – thank you. Useful information, as I intend to be drinking quite a lot of them. But I think I should warn you, you might not want me to order anything, because I’ve decided I don’t have a story for you after all. I did consider just cancelling on the telephone, but I decided that would be cowardly and ill-mannered and I do try very hard to be neither.’

  Leo Bennett turned to the waiter, who had been listening to this with some interest, and said, ‘One Buck’s Fizz, please, and one vodka Martini,’ then turned back to her and said, ‘I’m sure you are never either cowardly or ill-mannered and I am also sure that we shall enjoy our lunch very much whether you give me a story, or recite nursery rhymes –’

  ‘Not sure about nursery rhymes,’ she said, ‘but I am rather good at Winnie-the-Pooh –’

  ‘I too. Maybe we could do a duet; you can be Kanga and I will be the bear of very little brain –’

  ‘Very well. Although I like Tigger –’

  ‘But he’s a boy –’

  ‘He is indeed. I like playing boys. Being tall, I always
had to be the boy when we did ballroom dancing at school, and whenever I took part in the pantomime in the village hall, I was principal boy.’

  She smiled at him; now that she was sitting down, her legs seemed restored to their normal strength. He was extraordinarily good-looking though, and charming, and fun; bit of a treat for lunch.

  While he, for his part, though fairly annoyed, was in no way inclined to tell her so. There was always another story and there was always an alternative route to it, having been given the faintest trail. Had she been plain, or dull, or badly dressed, he would have felt more than fairly annoyed, but it was a long time since he had met someone who was not only beautiful, but charming and intelligent, and she seemed, therefore, to be of more value than her story. Which might, in any case, be of no value at all he reflected (although given her intelligence and obvious sophistication, that seemed unlikely).

  ‘Well – that’s very nice of you. But you must let me pay for my own lunch; I’m clearly not earning it.’

  ‘Miss Southcott –’

  ‘Diana, please.’

  ‘Diana. I am gentleman enough to find the very thought of a lady buying her own lunch – while sitting at my table, that is – extremely disquieting.’

  ‘Well, that’s very nice of you. Thank you.’

  ‘I’m sure it will be my pleasure. Now, what would you like to eat?’

  Diana really had had no clear idea as she rushed into the restaurant late what she was going to do about her Tom story, but as she followed the maître d’ to the table, she had discovered she knew with absolute clarity. It had nothing to do with her fondness for Tom (considerable), or her concern for his career (negligible), or her sympathy for Alice (debatable); it was all about Ned.

  Diana was used to people admiring her looks, her sense of style, her breezy courage, her willingness to work until she was beyond exhaustion, but she was quite unused to them admiring her character. Most people indeed did not admire it at all, she knew; and especially in Yorkshire, where they felt quite the reverse, her self-esteem had plummeted to painfully low levels. But having Ned, good, kind, morally upright Ned, who she genuinely loved and admired so much, tell her he knew she would never do anything bad, never try to hurt anyone, had had a profound effect on her; she had lain awake for a long time, smiling into the darkness, savouring that moment, that pronouncement, and hoping, rather hopelessly, that it was true.