‘Shall we dance?’ said Philip Harrington.
‘That would be lovely,’ said Diana.
‘My father isn’t the best dancer,’ said Philip, steering her into a rather expert waltz. ‘How are your shoes?’
‘Oh – fine,’ she said, laughing politely.
There was silence for a turn or two; then he said, ‘So – have you known Mr Welles a long time?’
God, both of them.
‘Yes, a very long time. And when I was a debutante we went out together,’ she added.
‘Oh, really? And was he as handsome then as he is now?’
‘He certainly was. Half the girls in my year were after him.’
‘Lucky fellow.’
‘Yes. And he’s a very nice person too. Goodness, that dance was over quickly. Now, if you would just take me back to the table, I can see Mr Welles is on his own. Thank you so much, Dr Harrington, you do – let me put it politely – treat a girl’s shoes with more respect than your father does.’
He laughed. ‘That is putting it very politely. Now, here we are. I return your partner to you, Mr Welles. I feel honoured to have danced with her.’
And he went off.
Seeing they were alone, Diana said, ‘Ned, afterwards – I think we should talk. Just briefly. Can we go back to your house? Don’t look like that. I’m not going to try and seduce you, I’ve learned my lesson there!’
‘Don’t be silly,’ he said, laughing. ‘Yes, yes, of course. My mother and her dashing gentleman friend are staying at the Dorchester. Should I be worried at what you want to talk about?’
‘I don’t think so.’
They were actually joined in Ned’s small house not only by the Bellingers, but Ludo and Cecily. Cecily was tired – hardly surprising, Diana thought, with four children to care for, nannies and apparently limitless money notwithstanding. They had decided to stay in town rather than make the long drive home. Ned invited them in to use his phone to find somewhere to stay; it required a few calls, but the Berkeley offered to open its doors to them; they then all six settled into that greatest of social joys, the post-mortem.
‘Great evening,’ said Ludo. ‘Thanks for inviting us, Diana. Ghastly chap, that Digby Harrington. What a boss, Ned. Do you know, he was at my prep school? I suddenly remembered the name. Everyone was terrified of him. He had an appalling reputation as a bully. Tormented the small ones, heads down the lavatory, you know the sort of thing.’
‘I’m afraid I do. Well, I don’t suppose he’s changed. Mind you, he’s not as bad as Sir Neil Lawson, he’s the real head honcho, absolute brute.’
‘Oh, Ludo,’ said Cecily, ‘how can you even think of sending the boys away? I wish you wouldn’t.’
‘Oh, they’ll be all right,’ said Ludo easily. ‘It’s different these days, anyway, nobody gets away with that sort of thing any more.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Time we were going, I’m afraid. Anyone want a lift? We’re headed Knightsbridge way, as you know.’
‘No, we’ve got our car,’ said Ian. ‘Thanks all the same.’
‘Diana?’
‘No, I’ve still got too much lovely champagne left – if Ned doesn’t mind me staying to drink it.’
She hated doing it, but felt it too important not to warn him about Sir Digby and his insistent probing.
He grew very pale, drank an enormous Scotch very fast.
‘A spy,’ he said. ‘Oh, God.’
‘I simply don’t understand it,’ she said. ‘Why they’re so bothered. I’d have thought they’d both got better things to do. But there’s no need to panic, Ned. Just – be careful. They’re a nasty pair. You heard what Ludo said about Sir Digby. No reason to suppose his son’s any different. But everyone else there, and I met loads of them tonight, clearly loves you. And what do they have to go on? Never did anyone lead such a blameless life. I don’t know how you can stand it.’
She spoke lightly, but he said, ‘I have to. You can see why now.’
‘Indeed.’
‘More champagne?’
‘No, thank you, I’ve had far too much already. I really must go, if you’d call me a taxi.’
‘Of course. I haven’t asked about you. Is everything all right in your world? Do you have anyone yourself at the moment?’
‘Oh – no. Not really,’ she said, her mind swooping back to the evening at her flat, and Tom Knelston kneeling above her on her sofa, kissing her frantically. ‘No. Not with any future in it, anyway.’
‘Well, I’m sure there will be. Someone, I mean. Meanwhile, it’s so very good to have you as a friend, Diana. I wish we’d become so long ago. I have so few.’
‘Me too.’ The very word ‘friend’ produced a vivid image of Tom. ‘Now listen, I understand you like the theatre. Maybe we could go together sometimes. At best it would be fun, and at worst –’
‘It could allay suspicion,’ he said and laughed and kissed her, very gently, on the mouth. ‘I’d like that very much. Only not – not –’
‘Not musicals,’ she said. ‘Because of Jillie, I know. But you like the ballet?’
‘I love it.’
‘Me too. And all this new theatre stuff? Osborne, Wesker –’
‘Very much.’
‘Opera?’
‘Naah.’
‘You know, we really are made for one another,’ she said, laughing.
Chapter 43
‘Darling, do leave me alone.’
‘What?’
‘I said, please leave me alone.’
‘I am leaving you alone.’
‘No. You’re hovering. You know I can’t concentrate when you’re hovering.’
‘I’m sorry, I call this sitting and reading.’
‘Well, I call it hovering. And I’ve got to get this synopsis done by tomorrow, for this woman who might take me on as her editor.’
‘Sorry. Shall I go into another room?’
‘No, I’ll still know you’re there. Can’t you go out and look for things?’
‘Oh – yes. Yes, all right.’