Sheila

by Robert Wainwright

  She accompanied Serge and one of her cousins when they drove out to explore the farmland along the spine of the Blue Mountains and the opportunities for selling farm machinery there and in the towns beyond—places like Bathurst and Quandialla. They then headed south to Goulburn and the old Chisholm homestead, Wollogorang, and continued on to the city of Canberra, which was now slowly emerging, before heading further south. In Melbourne they stayed with Dame Nellie Melba at her home, where the diva sang ballads in the evening accompanying herself on piano, and they took to the grass courts with the tennis greats Sir Norman Brookes and Gerald Patterson.

  Photos would show a relaxed and happy period without the physical trappings of their glamorous world, Sheila helping to paint a fence at the Melba house, Coombe Cottage, and Serge, in boots and jodhpurs as a “jackaroo”, leaning casually on the railings of a stockyard.

  But there was always the shadow of Loughie. Sheila had half-expected that he might not come on to Australia, and return to England instead, but he cabled in early January to say he was boarding the steamship Morea and would be arriving in Sydney within a week.

  “Loughie’s coming to Sydney. I’ve to decide,” she announced to Serge one night, making it clear that she was on the cusp of abandoning her troubled marriage. They had just returned from a visit to the station owned by her brother Roy, who had split with his first wife, Constance Coldham, and had now announced his engagement to childhood sweetheart Mollee Little.

  Sheila was under pressure. Her family desperately wanted her to try to save the marriage but Serge decided to speak his mind, as she would recall in her memoir: “Serge said that I must run away with him. We would go to Hollywood and make our fortunes on the movies. Loughie would, of course, divorce me and Catherine would divorce him. This was our only hope of happiness.”

  Sheila was torn. Finally, she confided in her mother: “She was horrified and gave me a terrible lecture. She said I would lose my sons; that the Rosslyns would take them and I would not be allowed to keep them. In my heart I knew she was right because my love for Tony and Peter was stronger and no man on earth was worth leaving one’s children.”

  Sheila tearfully told Serge of her decision. Serge could only stand back and wait: “Sheila’s husband then arrived from India. He was greatly better, and while I knew what it would probably mean, I consoled myself by thinking of his and Sheila’s happiness and that of their beautiful children. She intimated that she was going to give it another try, and she was right; but thereby my closest friendship in Australia would be broken off. Deep in my heart I knew I would be losing someone who would mean something to me for the rest of my life.”

  On his arrival, Loughie told the local media that he expected to be in New South Wales and Queensland for three months, before heading back to London. For Serge, suddenly the hardships of Australia appeared very real: the unsealed dirt roads and grim economy and the narrowness of the rural conversations, which offered little but an argument about the price of wool and the struggle to sell machinery. City life seemed easy, but the rigours of the bush were wearing. This was a country of extremes. Isolated, Serge suddenly felt lonely and Europe beckoned: “It was then that I realised that I had been living in Australia for the sake of a dream. I had no idea until then just how great a part of that dream Sheila had represented. I was lonely and loneliness is always worse when one feels that one really isn’t proving anything.”

  Within a fortnight of Loughie’s arrival, Serge was on his way back to London. Sheila watched him go: “I wondered if my heart was broken. Mummy said that I must devote at least a year to Loughie and try in every possible way to help him. This I did.”

  Serge boarded wistfully: “As suddenly as I had decided to leave for Australia, I returned in spirit to the Old World. This time it was a long journey back.”

  10

  EVER YOURS SINCERELY, ALBERT

  A letter addressed to Sheila arrived on the same boat that had brought her errant husband to Sydney. It was delivered to their rented Potts Point home as the couple sat down to discuss the future. Sheila knew from the envelope stamped with the royal seal that it was yet another complication in her life. She opened it carefully, a missive to be treasured whatever it said, and later to be folded carefully and stored among her most precious belongings, like the others that would follow:

  Buckingham Palace

  December 20

  My dear Sheila,

  I have got so much to tell you that I don’t know where to begin. Do forgive me for my terribly long silence.

  I have been meaning to write to you for ages but something has always cropped up to prevent me at the last moment and I have been frightfully busy and this letter has never been written.

  So much has happened of late. It seems ages and ages since you left here although it has only been 2 months and I feel London altogether a different place without you.

  Whenever I go into a ballroom I always look around the room hoping to see you, as I know there is somebody missing, and it is so so sad not seeing you, and I do so miss you.

  But we hope that it will not be long before you are back among us again. I have no idea where you are now but hope you have reached Australia safely and found all your family well.

  I expect that you must be very glad to be at your old home after the years here away. But I do hope you will come back again after the 6 months have elapsed. I shall look forward to the day when you return and I hope to be able to welcome you back once more.

  My very best love for you Sheila.

  Yours ever sincerely,

  Albert

  Bertie had promised to give up Sheila Loughborough, but this letter made it clear he was struggling to forget her. There seemed to be a longing and regret that they could never be together and that their affair had been cut short, not by them but by his father’s demands. He’d been worried that he would be spied upon and reported back to the palace if he socialised with her, and he had said as much to his brother after he accepted the title of Duke of York, lamenting to Edward in a letter: “Oh! If only one could live one’s own life occasionally.”

  During the summer of 1920 they had continued to see each other at dances and parties, even though Sheila was also being wooed by Serge Obolensky. Much to the annoyance of Edward, who viewed their relationship as a threat to his own dalliance, Bertie had continued referring to the 4 Do’s. But the tryst was over, despite rumours that her divorce from Loughie was imminent, and her departure in September had left a void Bertie hadn’t been able to fill, at least not yet.

  He had already begun to show an interest in Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, the lonely debutante Sheila had noticed on the night of the Farquhars’ party. They had danced at an RAF Ball in July and he had accepted an invitation in September to stay at her family home, Glamis Castle in Scotland, where he had tentatively held her hand in front of others. And the week before writing to Sheila, Bertie and Elizabeth had sat together at a party given to celebrate his twenty-fifth birthday.

  He was clearly attracted to the young woman, someone who would be approved as a suitable wife, but he was not yet over Sheila. The prince mentioned none of this in his letter and neither would he when he wrote again in April 1921, let alone revealing that he had proposed to Elizabeth on February 28. She had refused, apologising and asking for forgiveness before asking: “We can be good friends, can’t we?”

  He made sure to confirm his single status when he wrote to Sheila again at the end of August.

  Balmoral Castle

  August 21st, 1921

  My dearest Sheila,

  Thank you ever so much for your letter of 16th June. I am so glad you received mine safely. David, I know, has written to you and you would have got it now. I arrived here yesterday. I was very glad to get away from London at last because I have been there all the time since the last I wrote to you in April.

  The season started very late this year, not till after Ascot week owing to the coal strike but when it did start it was pretty he
ctic and I suppose, went to a dance four nights a week besides having a lot of work as well, so I am pretty tired especially mentally. Change is what I want.

  No, I am not engaged or married yet!! Does it surprise you at all? I don’t think I ever shall be, anyhow not for some long time to come.

  It is all so difficult and tricky these days here and there seems to be more and more gossiping old women than before. I have seen very little of Freda lately who has been out of London and away for some time. David is much better now since he has had a rest. You know he overworked himself in July and nearly broke down completely.

  I am so sorry to hear you say you have no plans for returning to England yet. We are all waiting patiently for you!! I do hope things are going easier for now and that you are not so worried as before.

  I often think of the old days in 1919; they seem a very, very long way away now, but hold many memories. Your baby bear mascot is still on the car guiding me straight as before!!

  Do please write again soon and tell me more about yourself, as you know how I want to know.

  Again, so very many thanks for your letter,

  Ever yours very sincerely,

  Albert

  In fact, Edward had not yet written, but he would do so in November, to “my dear little Sheila”—a rambling six-page letter in which he moaned about his royal duties and in particular a planned tour of India. He asked about her family and “sweet” Mollee:

  I expect Moll has forgotten all about me by now though she and I got quite a lot of amusement out of some of the Sydney stunts last year and laughed a good deal!! She is so sweet, and tell her I hope she’s forgiven me about the photograph incident on board Renown out at the Heads the day we sailed. Is she still more or less engaged to your brother Roy?

  Then there was the sore point of her husband:

  I won’t ask news of Loughie. I expect it’s better not, though it would be wonderful to hear he had really pulled himself together and was reformed!!

  He can be so charming and on the other hand sometimes makes me want never to see him again!!

  Please burn this when read as it’s much safer isn’t it?

  Bertie drifts along much as usual and hasn’t made any progress towards matrimony though he wants to get married and was trying fairly hard a few months ago!!! I’ve seen a good deal of him this last year . . . The life and atmosphere of London has changed a good deal and for the worst since you left and Fredie and I hardly ever go to parties nowadays.

  Edward was right not to ask about Loughie. Little, if anything, had changed. In February 1921, within a month of his arrival in Australia and having moved his family into a sprawling home in Bay Street, Double Bay, he had left Sydney and headed north to Queensland, where he used his father-in-law’s contacts to ingratiate himself into the racing community. His name would appear sporadically in Brisbane’s social pages—“also noticed” and “among the crowd”. It hardly seemed the behaviour of a man who had just been separated from his family for four months and who claimed to desperately want to reconcile with his wife. She meantime was attending similar functions in Sydney, often with her parents, and gaining attention as magazines clamoured to publish exclusive photographs of her as a visiting celebrity.

  Loughie finally made his way back to Sydney, but there seemed to be little to keep him amused. The social calendar was limited, compared to London, and he was not interested in a career, so it was inevitable that he would quickly become bored. England beckoned, as Sheila told Bertie in a long letter. He replied immediately:

  Buckingham Palace

  December 8th, 1921

  My dear Sheila,

  Thank you so very much for your letter of October 16th, which I received safely. It is so nice to hear you say that you hope to return to England during the next year. You will find things a bit changed, I expect, but I understand that you have still got your house in London at 18 Hyde Park Terrace.

  Tony and Peter are quite big now I suppose and I shall not recognise them again. I don’t think I have changed. Anyhow, I don’t think I’ve got a long white beard!!!! as you suggest. And I don’t feel very old.

  Thank you so much for your good wishes for my birthday. It is coming next week.

  David left for India on October 26th, very sad and depressed at the thought of being away for eight months and missing for the hunting etc of the season. From what I have heard his tour has been triumph after triumph. He is wonderful, isn’t he at these world tours and he does take much infinite trouble about them all.

  I try to do my best in keeping the front at home but I can never equal him in the amount of work he does in all things. Anyhow, I have a very fine example to copy in how things should be done.

  I am fairly busy now in doing functions most weeks but I am able to get away for weekends. I have had four days hunting this season. But at the moment the man I was hunting with has suddenly gone sick and will not be able to hunt again this season. This has rather upset my arrangements for the moment but, no doubt, I will be able to settle it all soon.

  Everything is different enough already without worries of this sort as well. Greig is still with me and we get on splendidly. James Stewart has left and I have got a man named Waterhouse who is both private secretary and equerry. He is most useful because he knows everyone and everybody, which makes my life easier.

  I am surprised to hear Freda has never written to you as you were such friends. I have quite lost touch with her too, and see her very occasionally at parties. There are very few parties going on now as no one seems to be in London, which makes it a very dull place, and I am never there unless I am obliged to be. We had a wonderful time at Dunrobin. What a marvellous place and we had some good grouse shooting and stalking.

  So you were thinking of going on the cinema. Have you got a cinema face or whatever is needed for it? It must be very hard work I should think but, as you say, it would bring in some money.

  We are all nearly broke here but I have heard now that the Irish government has signed, the income tax will drop a shilling or two.

  How I hope this is true, don’t you? I hope you get this letter safely and with it I send every good wish for Christmas and the New Year and hoping to see you back here at no very distant date.

  Ever yours sincerely,

  Albert

  The “cinema” reference was almost certainly the idea put in her head by Serge that they should run away together to Hollywood. She had dreamed about flying to America in her childhood and now, in her continuing unhappiness, the notion of a magical escape remained powerful. Little did she know that both she and Serge would end up there in later years, one as an influential member of society and the other as a frequent and feted visitor.

  It would take another year for the Loughboroughs to pack up and head back to Europe, not as a reconciled and happy couple with a young family as she’d hoped, but disenchanted and together only for appearances and the sake of their children. Loughie took little responsibility for his behaviour. Instead he blamed Australia’s climate for being disagreeable.

  Although her own marriage was crumbling, there were two unions forged at this time which would have been important to Sheila. The first was the marriage of her brother Roy to her best friend Mollee Little on April 24, 1922, which drew coverage from The Sydney Morning Herald:

  The bride wore a dainty frock of sand coloured georgette with a gold embroidered girdle and a fine lace hat of the same colour as her dress with ribbons of blue, and a wreath of hand-made flowers round the back of the crown. She carried a sheaf of blue delphiniums. Mrs Harry Chisholm wore a grey stockinette gown with touches of pale blue and a large black hat with deep ivory feathers. Lady Loughborough wore a simple gown of cream jersey cloth with a large black hat. Her two little sons were present in white silk suits. A small and intimate reunion of relatives of the bride and bridegroom took place after the ceremony. Many very beautiful presents were received. Mr and Mrs Chisholm departed Sydney later in the day for their honeymoon,
the bride going away in a grey tweed coat and skirt.

  She did not attend the second wedding, which happened twelve months later and half a world away. Prince Albert had written once more in late 1922, his letter more distant than the previous three—“dull”, as he described it:

  York Cottage, Sandringham

  December 22, 1922

  My Dear Sheila,

  I was so glad to receive your letter of November 8th this morning. I was just going to write to you to tell you how very glad I am to hear that you are definitely coming home this next April with all your family which means, I suppose, that you are coming for good. Freda told me at a dance the other night all about it and it will be nice seeing you again after all this time—two years, as you say.

  Yes, I think things are more or less unchanged here and we all do the same things as we did before. But I have not seen much of David and Freda lately as we are moving and hunting in different places and the days do not always fit in. Life is just as strenuous, plenty of work. We fit in hunting between stunts when we can, which is a good life and every moment is occupied.

  I am down here with the family for a few days for Christmas, after which I hope to get a good month hunting. I have given David your love and he sends his. Please forgive this very dull letter. I shall be looking forward to your return with great expectation.

  Best wishes to you for Christmas and the New Year.