23rd November 1937
Maxi has left me his opera scarf as a memento, until he returns in the New Year. He says his life turned a corner the day he met me. I think Maybell, Countess Finto would sound very well. But one can’t rush into these things. To have a man in my life again would change so much. Wally would have to manage without me, for one thing. And then, there can be an irksome side to husbands. Brumby was rarely any trouble to me, but I know what others go through. I may see what Harrold’s Lending Library has on Paraguay.
Pips wants me for Christmas. She’s promised there’ll be no lectures from Freddie about the German situation. Actually, I may give Freddie a lecture. I’ve met the Fuehrer, after all. And I have this feeling that someday people like Freddie are going to view Adolf Hitler in a very different light.
I fly—fly—to Croydon Aerodrome on November 30th. Wally thinks I’m crazy.
25th November 1937
Dear Ena Spain has taken up my cause with Violet. She told her, it made no sense to keep the drawbridge raised when the battle is over and the troops have all gone home. David and Wally are leading a new life far from Carlton Gardens, and the New Bunch are apparently making a decent job of things, so there’s no longer any reason for a family to be divided. Violet told Ena that if I choose to call when I’m next in London, I won’t find the door barred.
I said, “Hardly a warm invitation.”
Ena said, “Now, Maybell, Violet always means well. Just go and see her. Life is short.”
29th November 1937
A last doggie walk with HRH.
He said, “Remember me to dear old London, Maybell. I do miss it all.”
I said, “Well, sir, you’ve already served nearly a year of your time. Time flies.”
He said, “It does, but sometimes I think we’ll never be able to go back. I want you to take soundings while you’re there. When you come back, I shall want to hear about the mood of my nation.”
We reminisced about that gay weekend we had at the Fort, when Wally cooked campfire sausages and Bernie Cavett played the accordion. Then, for one awful moment, I thought he might cry. He’s plagued with toothache, and smoking far too much.
Freezing fog. I wonder how my airplane pilot will know which way to go.
1st December 1937, Claridge’s Hotel, London
A corsage waiting for me at Le Bourget, from Count Maxi.
Pips looks well. They have a new crimson dining room.
3rd December 1937
A year ago this night, Wally and I were hurtling through the dark to Newhaven.
Perhaps I’ll call Perry Brownlow.
Doopie is back at South Audley Street, hoping to be sent to Spain.
She said, “Dordie wone gum home dill a jobs done.”
Flora is growing a bosom, but she still carts around that Spanish doll given to Wally at Corunna.
She said, “Are we speaking to you? Are you allowed to take us to Lyons for gake?”
I guess I am. Tea with Violet tomorrow.
4th December 1937
Violet’s first words were, “Are you back to stay?”
I said, “No. Just for Christmas. I’m letting Wilton Place go.”
She said, “Are you going back to Baltimore? Is it Randolph?”
I said, “No. I have a suite at the Meurice. I’m a European now.”
“Oh dear,” she said.
Rory will be home on the 10th.
She said, “Of course, he may not want to see you. I make no promises. He’s all too aware of recent events.”
Her hair is whiter, Melhuish’s gout is apparently worse, and there’s a scorch mark on the stairhall runner where Flora set a fire while she and Doopie were back in residence. It seems to have been brought on by Elspeth Laird suggesting it was time they tried her at another school.
We embraced. Violet’s still rather stiff with me, but at least the ice has been broken. I believe I smelled poached salmon as I was leaving.
Spoke with Perry Brownlow.
I said, “I hear you’ve been well and truly pilloried.”
“Ah,” he said, “an anniversary call! One veteran to another.”
He said, “It can only be a matter of time till we’re back in fashion. The silliness of London will always outweigh its viciousness.”
He asked after Wally and HRH. He said he never hears from them, only about them.
He said, “I did everything I could to keep him from abdicating, you know? But now the dust has settled, I think it’s all turned out for the best, don’t you?”
I do.
6th December 1937
To the Erlangers. Hattie says no one’s talking about Wally anymore. Freddie says that’s because they know they may soon have a war to worry about.
10th December 1937
Rory and Flora are very impressed to have an aunt who flies in airplanes. Flora kept asking, “But how do they stay in the sky?” A very good question.
Rory says it’s due to aerodynamics.
We went to Madame Tussaud’s Museum to see a wax likeness of Wally. Rory was spellbound but, of course, he’s never actually seen her in the flesh. In my opinion, they don’t quite have her. She’s in a red gown, glaring across at the Archbishop of Canterbury, so they’re on the right track, but they haven’t quite captured her. Afterwards, to the Marble Arch Lyon’s. Flora announcing very loudly that she now wears a bust bodice. “Thirty-four inches,” she bellowed. She forgets we’re not all like Doopie.
How grown up they both are all of a sudden. I’d so love them to visit with me in Paris.
Flora said, “Let’s go now.”
Rory said, “You have to learn French first, you noodle.”
Such nonsense. I live there and I don’t speak a word.
They chose their own presents: a nest of wands and a rather alarming set of magic handcuffs for Rory. Next year, I shall go to Truefitt and Hill and get him a shaving brush. Flora got The Secret of the Border Castle and a flashlight. She picked out a woolen scarf for Ulick. Harrold’s will always change it if he finds it too colorful.
13th December 1937
Anne Belchester called to invite me to her Spanish field hospital benefit. Doopie will be selling prize-draw tickets and is sure to be glad of help. I believe I’m in the process of being rehabilitated. If I’m not very careful, Gladys Trilling will start speaking to me again.
17th December 1937
Lunch with Penelope Blythe, and at the Dorch! I must truly be on my way back.
And so much news. Ralph Habberley has sunk without trace, Jane Habberley has turned to God, Percy Boddie-Fulton was arrested for drunken driving—in Battersea, inexplicably—Ida Coote is working on a telephone switchboard, and Tommy Minskip has taken to shooting at people who approach his front door. Not that there can be many of those. Penelope says if Maxi Finto played polo, Fergus may remember him, and if he doesn’t, Rock Cholmondeley certainly will.
She says the new Queen is blossoming, the old Queen is nesting at Marlborough House, and Fergus predicts HRH will eventually be asked to go to Australia as Governor General. I don’t think Australia is what Wally has in mind.
19th December 1937
Spoke with Zita Cavett. They have rain in Cannes. Wally was resting, and HRH was in town, picking up her Christmas necklace. Zita says they’ve received Christmas greetings from President Hitler, Mr. Mussolini, and the New Bunch.
To the Legation for Christmas carols.
23rd December 1937
Penelope telephoned all the way from Leake Priory to say Fergus has never heard of Maxi Finto. And a merry Christmas to you, too, Penelope.
2nd January 1938
To the Savoy with the Erlangers and the Crosbies. We learned a riotous new dance called the Lambeth Walk.
5th January 1938
Encountered Daphne Frith in Church’s trying on ankle boots. She said, “I hope we can let bygones be bygones, Maybell. I do hope we’ll see you at Hoxney Court this year.”
I should be so desperate.
/> I said, “I live in Paris now, Daphne.”
“Yes,” she said, “I heard. No distance from Kent at all. I should so love to see Paris again sometime.”
7th January 1938
Gladys Trilling made straight for the seat next to mine at Monsieur Jules.
She said, “It’s too bloody, everything that’s happened. How are poor Wally and David?”
I said, “Never better. They adore living in France. We all do.”
“Still,” she said. “It must be small comfort after everything they’ve lost. Stripped of rank. Reduced to penury. Although, of course, Wally was always terribly clever about making a little go a long way.”
Damned cheek from a woman who takes soap from hotel powder rooms.
Judson says Whitlow is being posted to Jakarta. There is a God.
9th January 1938
To tea at Kensington Palace with Ena Spain. She’s visiting her mother. Ena is convinced Anthony Eden is going to drag us into a war. She said, “I’m going to move to Switzerland, Maybell, and you should think of doing the same. When it comes, as it will, I don’t want to see or hear anything about it. I’m too old for more heartache.”
Poor Ena lost a brother in the Somme. Old Princess Baby didn’t come down. She’s in a bad way with rheumatics but doesn’t seem to know how to die.
Wally wants me back posthaste. She’s found a house near Versailles.
I said, “I thought you wanted to be in town.”
She said, “I do. But if we take this, David can garden.”
There’s a flight on Thursday.
15th January 1938, Meurice Hotel, Paris
Wally signed a six-month lease in a fit of frustration, but now she’s having second thoughts. She said, “It’s not quite right for us. I’m going to get us out of it. I don’t see why we should make do with the first thing that comes along, like a pair of refugees.”
HRH roamed in and out till she told him off. There’s been too much weather for him to be able to play golf. His face fell when he saw her gathering up her things to go out. He said, “I rather hoped we’d have lunch.”
She was running out to meet Kenny Opdyke. He said, “Shall I come with you?”
“No,” she said. “Kenny’s found me a nice little console table, but I’m going to have to beat the dealer down. I don’t want you there, confusing things.”
I stayed behind and shared his plate of sandwiches. He said, “I don’t believe Hitler wants a war, but if it should come to it, I shall go back into uniform. I know war is a terrible, terrible thing, but I must say, I remember it as the happiest time of my life. Except for now, of course.”
He asked a thousand questions about London. I think he pictures it just as it was when he left it—frozen, waiting for him to return. It would break his heart to know no one talks about him anymore.
Charlie Bedaux is back in town. He and Fern are dining with us next week. The America fiasco is not to be mentioned. Wally says what happened was completely beyond Charlie’s control, and anyway, he’s still a very useful and understanding friend.
No word from Maxi.
25th January 1938
Came last evening: Charlie and Fern, Princess Grimaldi, the Lazslo Melchiors, and a movie star called Maurice Chevalier. Charlie says we should all be in armaments. I must talk to Randolph Putnam.
Walter Monckton has proposed himself for next weekend. HRH is very buoyed up. He thinks it signals that the New Bunch are ready to welcome him back.
26th January 1938
Randolph Putnam says I’m already in armaments.
Walter Monckton brought no news at all. He says he came simply to see how HRH was faring. Wally says he came for a jaunt, more like. She’s now talking about going back to the States instead of settling in France, but Monckton advises against it. He says if they go to America, they’ll get squeezed for taxes, whereas the French are proving to be very considerate about David’s particular financial circumstances.
Monckton’s also concerned that HRH doesn’t get political briefings anymore.
I said, “He gets lectures from Freddie Crosbie.”
He said, “Well, it’s not enough. It’s no wonder he seems so lost. The man needs to be kept au courant.”
I said, “Wally sees to that.”
He said, “I don’t mean au courant with hat fashions and Paris niteries.”
He underestimates Wally. She reads the newspapers cover to cover every day. Anyway, Monckton says he’s going to try and impress upon London the importance of HRH continuing to receive little notes and visits, to help keep him informed of British policies.
“Otherwise,” he said, “I very much fear the Germans will gain his ear and he may go off at dangerous tangents.”
3rd February 1938
Wally is busy with fittings. HRH is in a depression. I walked the dogs with him this morning. He said, “My brother Bertie used to do whatever I told him, but since he’s been King, he gets quite testy if I telephone him with advice.”
I’ve suggested watercolors. When time hung heavy at Drumcanna, I found it a very useful way of getting through the day.
Hattie Erlanger is coming for the weekend. Alix Piston-LeRupin says she heard Maxi is back in town, but no one has actually seen him.
6th February 1938
With Wally, Hattie, and Kenny Opdyke to a flea market. Hattie says Wally looked like an old rag-and-bone man, the way she picked over everything. Hattie can be very cruel.
HRH has decided to write his memoirs. Wally said he should find out how much a publisher is willing to pay for them before he wastes any time on them, but he’s already filled five and a half pages.
She’s going down to Cannes with Kenny Opdyke and Johnnie MacMullen to make a final appraisal of La Croe. I think she’s already decided to take it.
12th February 1938
Wally has signed a ten-year lease on La Croe and is on her way back to claim her Valentine. There have been heavy hints about an unset canary diamond.
14th February 1938
Wally got bracelet of cat’s eye rubies and a suite full of long-stemmed roses. HRH was pipped at the post in the bidding for the canary diamond by Mrs. Standard Oil. Such a disappointment Maxi couldn’t be back in time for Valentine’s Day. I believe he’s a great romantic.
16th February 1938
Maxi is back. We were at La Huchette with the Lazslo Melchiors and the Piston-LeRupins when in he walked, with that awful Princess Didi Grimaldi. He came over the instant he saw me. He’s just back from his travels, literally. By the time he called, I’d already left for the evening. Two foxtrots. It was such a pleasure to be back in the arms of a natural dancer. I believe I feel the sap rising.
The Crosbies are going to try and come down to Cannes at Easter, international tensions permitting. Pips says there’s a big row brewing in Parliament over the Italy question. The general feeling is that some kind of accommodation should be reached with Mr. Mussolini, but Anthony Eden is digging in his heels. Freddie is behind Eden. He would be.
17th February 1938
Luncheon with Maxi. A private booth at Bofinger. He says Didi Grimaldi is absolutely nothing to him, but she’s rather dug in her claws and expects him to squire her around. He says he’s going to make his feelings very clear before he leaves on his next business trip. Only just back and already planning to leave! But, as he says, money can’t sit idle in bank accounts, it has to be made to work. How like Brumby he sounds.
18th February 1938
A lost afternoon. Darling, darling Maxi!
Sent for an atlas of the world. Paraguay is a very long way from Paris, or from anywhere really.
22nd February 1938
Wrecked. Went with Maxi to a caveau near St.-Lazare to hear a rough little chanteuse he’s discovered. Edna Piaf. The show didn’t finish till three. Wally barked at me, said she doesn’t want a yawner-in-waiting, but she’s keen to come along next time we go. She likes to keep up with trends.
Anthony Eden
has resigned, so perhaps we’ll be spared from going to war with Italy.
26th February 1938
A red-letter day! Look! magazine has named Wally as one of the ten best-dressed women in the world. She’s deliriously happy and says now she’s on the list she intends not only to remain on it but to achieve Number One position. Designers are going to be queuing up to dress her now. There’ll be no more overdue accounts hanging around like last week’s fish.
Maxi gave me a sweet decoupage trinket box and a pair of gypsy earrings.
Wally sneered. She said, “If that’s the best he can manage when he’s courting you, I’d send him on his way.”
I said, “I don’t judge a man by the price of his gifts.”
“Then more fool you,” she said. “And whatever you do, don’t try wearing those earrings. They’ll stain your earlobes green.”
1st March 1938
Sunshine at last. HRH has laid aside his memoirs and gone to play golf with Ambassador Bullitt. Maxi gave me lunch in a droll little bistro near St. Severin. He’s desolate about having to go back to Paraguay so soon, but he’s been able to put a very interesting investment opportunity my way. Oilseed. It’s top secret at present, to prevent too many people getting in early and ruining our prospects.
Gone With the Windsors Page 40