‘No,’ she said briefly, and looking at Tom in silence for a moment as if making some kind of decision. Then she said, ‘No, I’m not modelling at the moment. I was seeing my gynaecologist.’
Tom felt nonplussed. Clearly no gentleman could possibly ask a lady why she was seeing her gynaecologist; but then why tell him at all, if she didn’t want the conversation to halt altogether?
‘The thing is,’ she said, solving his dilemma, ‘I think it’s time I had another baby. For Jamie, as much as anyone.’
This was safer. ‘How is Jamie?’ he said.
‘He’s very well, growing up too fast. He’ll be away at school before I know it and I shall miss him terribly. He’s my best friend up there, you could say.’
Tom knew better than to suggest that Jamie need not go away to school, and therefore not be terribly missed. Boarding school was one of this strange tribe’s rituals, to be followed at all costs.
‘So, do you like it any better up there now?’ he asked, this being the nearest he could get to the matter.
Diana looked at him and smiled. ‘You’re so sweet, Tom. Remembering all my moaning. No, I suppose you could say I’ve got used to it. Where do you live?’
‘In Acton,’ said Tom. ‘And Alice – my wife – is pregnant.’
‘Really? How lovely.’
‘I don’t think she thinks so. She feels dreadful.’
‘Poor her,’ said Diana. ‘Do you feel dreadfully worried all the time?’
‘Not dreadfully,’ said Tom. ‘But worried, yes.’
‘Because of what happened to Laura?’
‘Yes.’
He sat, looking at her, and thinking one of the main reasons he liked her was that she met things head on. And after a moment fuelled by the gin, he said so. ‘Most people dance round the subject of Laura’s pregnancy. Thank you for mentioning it. It’s like the way you came to find me at her grave that day. I’ve never forgotten that, how you just said what you felt. It was, well, it was so welcome. And surprising.’
‘Why? Oh, because you think I’m a toffee-nosed brat without any proper feelings. I hope your view is changing a bit now. I like to think of you as a friend, I must say. Tom, will you be my friend?’
‘I would love to be, Diana,’ he said, rushing, half knowingly, headlong into danger.
‘Well, that’s just so nice,’ she said and leaned forward again to kiss his cheek. I—’ and then she stopped suddenly and pulled back, an expression of intense pain on her face. Then it cleared.
‘Oh,’ she said, relaxing, ‘that hurt.’
‘What was it?’ he said anxiously.
‘Bit of indigestion. I get it a lot. Look, there’s Wendelien. I’ll introduce you. You won’t like her.’
‘Then maybe I should just go.’
‘No, no. But don’t stay. Anyway, you must get back to your lovely Alice.’
‘Yes, I must,’ he said, thinking he actually didn’t want to get back to the weary, sickly Alice he hardly recognised as much as he should.
‘Here we are, Wendelien,’ Diana called to her. She jumped up and embraced her, then said, ‘Wendelien Bellinger, Tom Knelston.’
Wendelien, also extremely pretty he thought, held out her hand.
‘He’s not staying,’ said Diana firmly. ‘He’s been keeping me company while we waited for you. Tom, darling, thank you for your company.’
She kissed him yet again; he knew he should be wincing at the ‘darling’ but in fact he loved it. It was a moment to savour, all part of this spellbound forbidden territory.
‘My pleasure,’ he said. ‘It really was. Goodbye. And goodbye, Mrs Bellinger.’
And with great reluctance he moved away from them and the temple of grovel and privilege that he liked so much, and knew he shouldn’t, and walked back to the foyer of the Savoy, and out into the cool evening where he tried to return to normal while he waited in a very unprivileged bus queue.
‘Wow, he’s a looker,’ said Wendelien. ‘Seemed rather sweet too. Diana, you’re not –?’
‘Of course I’m not,’ said Diana irritably. ‘He’s just a – ow. God –’
‘Darling, whatever is it?’
‘Awful twinge. Had another one just now. That’s better. Indigestion, I’m sure. I – oh, dear. I must just pop to the ladies. Order yourself a drink and I’ll have another sherry, please. Dry. See you in a tick.’
‘Diana, you look awful. Shall I come with you?’
‘Darling, don’t fuss. I’m fine. Honestly. Just get me a drink, and some salted almonds. Too delicious.’
‘It was a girl.’ Her voice was thick with tears. ‘A girl. Why did it have to happen, why couldn’t they have stopped it? Useless, useless doctors. I can’t bear it, I absolutely can’t bear it. It’s so, so unfair.’ And she started crying in earnest.
Chapter 29
1952
Alice was now six months pregnant, no longer sick, but far from blooming. She was extremely tired, and the initial kicking of the baby, so exciting the first few times, became an exhausting and near-painful event that continued throughout every night, and kept her awake.
‘This has to be a boy,’ she said to Tom. ‘A star footballer. He’ll be playing for England.’
Tom, while pleased to hear of his son’s putative future on the football pitches of England, was more excited on his own account. He had been summoned by the national agent to Transport House and was told he was being put forward for the shortlist of Labour candidates for Middleston, a leafy suburb on the outskirts of Birmingham. Although the Tories would hold on to the seat, having increased their majority in the election, the agent had told Tom he had a good chance of being selected as candidate.
‘They want someone young and your profile is much higher than it was with the party; the other two are no more likely than you to be adopted, in fact, rather less. One unmarried – as for the other, I’ve unearthed that he was once a Young Tory and we can spread the dirt quite nicely. It’ll be bloody hard work if you get selected, lot of pavement pounding and speeches to half-empty halls, but the campaign manager is a bloody good bloke and he thinks you’ve as good a chance as any. So – what do you say? It’ll mean being away from home a lot, and a lot of flag raising by your wife of course, but . . .’
Tom didn’t hesitate. ‘She’ll be game, and of course I’ll give it a go. When can I go up there, get started?’
‘The minute poor old Barton announces he’s standing down.’ Tom was worried that Robert Herbert would resent his absences, but he seemed rather impressed.
‘So is that a yes?’
Excited and disproportionately hopeful, he went home to tell Alice.
It had never occurred to him for a moment that he might ask her how she felt. Alice found it necessary to point this out, whereupon he reminded her of her promise at their wedding to put his ambitions in the Labour Party before anything, and she fled to their bedroom in tears.