‘That’s brave, still to do it when you’re terrified. I’m more like your mother, I just love it, don’t think about the consequences.’
Johnathan looked at Diana and smiled. ‘Good,’ he said. It was an odd response. She felt she had learned more about him in that one conversation than during the whole summer: and liked him better too.
He still wasn’t exciting though. She sat between him and Ned at dinner, but it was difficult not to concentrate entirely on Ned. If she was honest, she didn’t seem to be entirely captivating him. He chatted away, easily and amusingly enough, but seemed to be as interested in her mother and Michael as he was in her. She was an accomplished flirt, and used to getting any man she fancied, but it wasn’t working with Ned. It irritated her, and she turned back to Johnathan, but he was already engrossed in another deep conversation with her father about Europe and the likelihood of war.
After dinner, Michael said he and Ned were going to have a game of billiards. They invited her to join them, and she accepted but she was off form – usually she was rather good – and she became so irritated with herself that she said she was going to find Johnathan and left them to it. Johnathan was by this time sitting with her mother, listening to the radiogram. Caroline had bought a new recording of Beethoven’s ‘Pastoral’ Symphony, eight records dropping painfully slowly, one by one, onto the turntable, and as they were only halfway through, Diana had a long wait, flicking through the pages of Vogue and Tatler to relieve the boredom. When the music was finally over, she suggested a game of gin rummy, hoping it would liven things up, but Johnathan said he was hopeless at card games and actually pretty tired after the hunting and would they forgive him if he went to bed.
At this point, Michael and Ned reappeared and said they were going to have a quick nightcap. Ned smiled at Diana and said perhaps they could play billiards again some time, he could see she was actually jolly good. ‘You looked pretty happy on that horse of yours as well this morning. Do you enjoy hunting?’
‘Yes, I love it,’ said Diana and was about to launch into a description of the day, but then remembered her mother saying there was nothing more boring to non-hunting people than hearing it discussed and so she asked instead if Ned ever hunted.
‘No,’ he said. ‘No, I don’t. I actually think it’s rather cruel.’
‘Really?’
‘Well, yes. You must be able to see that, however much you enjoy it.’
‘I – I never really thought about it,’ she said, truthfully. And indeed, she had not; from her very first day out when she was blooded as quite a small girl, aged nine or ten, she had loved it, the speed, the challenge of keeping up with the field, the adrenalin rush of facing the fences and the gates, the increasing excitement. She’d never questioned the rectitude of the thinking behind it.
‘It keeps down foxes,’ she added, rather feebly, ‘and they are the most cruel, awful animals.’
‘But I have heard some hunts actually import foxes into an area, so there are more to chase. That doesn’t exactly meet the claim about keeping them down, does it?’
‘Oh, I’m sure that’s not true,’ she said, although she had heard this too and chosen to ignore it. ‘It’s probably just a myth. We can certainly agree that foxes are beastly animals. Oh, hello, Michael.’
She accepted a small brandy from Michael as he joined them and sat back, hoping they would start talking about their student lives which always amused her. To her great disappointment, they returned to the subject of Europe and Hitler’s persecution of the Gypsies, and after a very short while she excused herself and went, greatly disappointed, to bed.
Next morning it was pouring with rain, and Ned, Michael and her father read the papers for what seemed for ever, first over the breakfast table and then in the drawing room, and then launched into still further discussion until Caroline joined them for pre-lunch G and Ts, then it was lunchtime and a lot of excellent red wine was drunk, and then Michael and Ned drove off.
Diana hoped most fervently that she would be able to meet Ned again. He might not have shown a great interest in her – or actually the slightest, if she was honest – but she felt instinctively that she could rectify that. And the weekend had served one very important purpose, confirming her view that Johnathan Gunning, for all his money and apparent suitability, was not remotely right for her.
Chapter 4
1938
‘You what?’ Jack’s voice was stern, defensive, not in the least the delighted welcoming reaction Tom had hoped for – even expected. God, he was hard to please. He’d thought his father would like the fact that he wanted to join him at the Labour Party meetings, events that were, for him, sacred affairs, akin to going to church; it seemed instead to be inspiring yet more resentment and hostility.
‘I do, Dad. I really would like to come. Do you have any objections?’
‘Well – no. I suppose not. As long as you’re coming in the right state of mind. I don’t want them to think you’re some would-be toff, looking to put them through their paces.’
‘Dad! I am not a would-be toff. I genuinely want to join the party – I’ve thought about it long and hard. I think it’s more important than ever, with the state the country’s in, war almost certainly on its way, and that idiot in charge. I mean, I don’t want war – who does – but it’s better than lying down and just taking whatever Hitler doles out, which is what Chamberlain seems to have brought us to. It scares me, I tell you.’
Jack stared at his son; his expression was thoughtful. Then he smiled, his rare, rather grudging smile.
‘In that case come. It’ll be good to have your company.’
It was a moment that Tom never forgot, marking not only the beginning of his lifelong commitment to the Labour Party, but almost more importantly, the sense that, at last, he had found a way to win his father’s approval.
The meeting was at seven, in the Methodist church hall, Hilchester. They met early. ‘That’ll give you a chance to meet some of the members before start of business. Can’t promise you much excitement, just one of the councillors speaking, Alan Broadburn, but he’s very sound.’