11
THE BUTLER HANDED Sir Giles his post on a silver tray. Giles flicked quickly through it, as he did every morning, separating the long, thin, brown envelopes, which he placed to one side, from the white, square ones which he would open immediately. Among the envelopes that caught his attention that morning was a long, thin white one that bore a Bristol postmark. He tore it open.
He pulled out a single sheet of paper addressed To Whom It May Concern. Once he’d read it, he looked up and smiled at Virginia, who had joined him for a late breakfast.
‘It will all be done and dusted next Wednesday,’ he announced.
Virginia didn’t look up from her copy of the Daily Express. She always began the morning with a cup of black coffee and William Hickey, so she could find out what her friends were up to, and which debutantes were hoping to be presented at court that year, and which had no chance.
‘What will be done and dusted?’ she asked, still not looking up.
‘Mama’s will.’
Virginia forgot all about hopeful debutantes, folded her newspaper and smiled sweetly at Giles. ‘Tell me more, my darling.’
‘The reading of the will is to take place in Bristol next Wednesday. We could drive down on Tuesday afternoon, spend the night at the Hall, and attend the reading the next day.’
‘What time will it be read?’
Giles glanced at the letter once again. ‘Eleven o’clock, in the offices of Marshall, Baker and Siddons.’
‘Would you mind terribly, Bunny, if we drove down early on the Wednesday morning? I don’t think I can face another evening being nice to your chippy sister.’
Giles was about to say something, but changed his mind. ‘Of course, my love.’
‘Stop calling me “my love”, Bunny, it’s dreadfully common.’
‘What sort of day have you got ahead of you, my darling?’
‘Hectic, as usual. I never seem to stop nowadays. Another dress fitting this morning, lunch with the bridesmaids, and then this afternoon I have an appointment with the caterers, who are pressing me on numbers.’
‘What’s the latest?’ asked Giles.
‘Just over two hundred from my side, and another hundred and thirty from yours. I was rather hoping to send out the invitations next week.’
‘That’s fine by me,’ said Giles. ‘Which reminds me,’ he added, ‘the speaker has granted my request to use the Commons’ terrace for the reception, so perhaps we ought to invite him as well.’
‘Of course, Bunny. After all, he is a Conservative.’
‘And possibly Mr Attlee,’ suggested Giles tentatively.
‘I’m not sure how Papa would feel about the leader of the Labour Party attending his only daughter’s wedding. Perhaps I could ask him to invite Mr Churchill.’
The following Wednesday, Giles drove his Jaguar over to Cadogan Gardens and parked outside Virginia’s flat. He rang the front doorbell, expecting to join his fiancée for breakfast.
‘Lady Virginia has not come down yet, sir,’ said the butler. ‘But if you’d care to wait in the drawing room, I can bring you a cup of coffee and the morning papers.’
‘Thank you, Mason,’ Giles said to the butler, who had once confessed to him privately that he voted Labour.
Giles settled down in a comfortable chair, and was offered a choice of the Express or the Telegraph. He settled on the Telegraph, because the headline on the front page caught his attention: Eisenhower announces he will stand for president. The decision didn’t surprise Giles, although he was interested to learn that the general would be standing as a Republican, because until recently no one seemed quite sure which party he supported, after both the Democrats and the Republicans had made overtures to him.
Giles glanced at his watch every few minutes, but there was no sign of Virginia. When the clock on the mantelpiece struck the half hour, he turned his attention to an article on page seven, which suggested Britain was considering building its first motorway. The stalemate in the Korean War was covered on the parliamentary pages, and Giles’s speech on a forty-eight-hour week for all workers and every hour beyond that being treated as overtime was quoted at length, with an editorial condemning his views. He smiled. After all, it was the Telegraph. Giles was reading an announcement in the court circular that Princess Elizabeth would be embarking on a tour of Africa in January, when Virginia burst into the room.
‘I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting, my darling, but I just couldn’t decide what to wear.’
He leapt up and kissed his fiancée on both cheeks, took a pace back, and once again thought how lucky he was that this beautiful woman had ever given him a second look.
‘You look fabulous,’ he said, admiring a yellow dress he’d never seen before, which emphasized her slim, graceful figure.
‘A little risqué perhaps for the reading of a will?’ suggested Virginia as she spun round in a circle.
‘Certainly not,’ said Giles. ‘In fact, the moment you walk into the room, no one will be thinking of anything else.’
‘I should hope not,’ said Virginia as she checked her watch. ‘Heavens, is it really that late? We’d better skip breakfast, Bunny, if we’re going to be on time. Not that we don’t already know the contents of your mother’s will, but it must appear as if we don’t.’
On the way down to Bristol, Virginia brought Giles up to date on the latest wedding arrangements. He was a little disappointed that she didn’t ask how his speech from the front bench had been received the previous day, but then, William Hickey hadn’t been in the press gallery. It wasn’t until they were on the Great West Road that Virginia said something that demanded his full attention.
‘The first thing we’ll have to do once the will has been executed is look for a replacement for Marsden.’
‘But he’s been with the family for over thirty years,’ said Giles. ‘In fact, I can’t remember when he wasn’t there.’
‘Which is part of the problem. But don’t worry yourself, my darling, I think I may have found the perfect replacement.’
‘But—’
‘And if you feel that strongly about it, Bunny, Marsden can always go and work at the Manor House, and take care of my aunts.’
‘But—’
‘And while I’m on the subject of replacements,’ continued Virginia, ‘it’s high time we had a serious talk about Jackie.’
‘My personal secretary?’
‘She’s far too personal, in my opinion. I can’t pretend that I approve of this modern habit of staff calling their bosses by their Christian names. No doubt it’s all part of the Labour Party’s absurd notion of equality. However, I felt it necessary to remind her that it’s Lady Virginia.’
‘I am sorry,’ said Giles. ‘She’s usually so polite.’
‘With you perhaps, but when I rang yesterday, she asked me to hold the line, something I’m not in the habit of doing.’
‘I’ll have a word with her about it.’
‘Please don’t bother,’ said Virginia, which came as a relief to Giles. ‘Because I shall not be contacting your office again while she remains on your staff.’
‘Isn’t that a little extreme? After all, she does a first-class job, and I’d find it almost impossible to replace her.’
Virginia leant over and kissed him on the cheek. ‘I do hope, Bunny, that I will be the only person you will find it almost impossible to replace.’