Indeed, Persephone did look amazingly stylish, in a dark red crushed velvet dress, thirties style, with a handkerchief hem, and a long shrugged-on dark navy cardigan jacket, soft and loose, skimming over her tall slender body, and rows and rows of different sizes of fake pearls.
‘Well, you see, for so long I had no money, and I cared so desperately about clothes, so I just learned. I hoarded everything, never got rid of something because it was out of fashion. I bought cheap clothes if the colours were good, I learned to sew and made a lot, even bought some clothes at jumble sales. My only extravagance was shoes. I will not wear old shoes. When I couldn’t afford proper ones, I bought tennis shoes, and dyed them. Anyway, Ned is coming, but not yet – some emergency at the hospital. It’s his NHS one, not his private work – he’ll often take other doctors’ evening shifts because he doesn’t have a family to get back to. Anyway, I’m not entirely sorry because I want to talk to you about him. I think you can help. He told me you wanted to marry him when you were young.’
‘I did. But it was impossible. I was so, so spoilt, no one with any sense at all would have looked at me, and I married on the rebound. It was a terrible mistake.’
‘Not quite the rebound, I imagine. You weren’t engaged?’
‘No, no, of course not, but – I’d decided.’ She laughed. ‘And of course –’
‘Of course. Now we both know, don’t we, about Ned. No need to spell it out.’
‘No need,’ said Diana, accepting the glass of champagne the waiter had brought and raising it to Persephone.
‘It all makes me so sad,’ said Persephone, raising hers back. ‘Condemned to a half-life, just because of some stupid attitudes. Anyway, we can live in hope. There seems to be a little at the moment. Although poor John Gielgud, booed and hissed when he came on stage – did you hear about that? The courage of the man, walking onto a London stage when he’d just been convicted of – what’s it called?’
‘Importuning?’ said Diana helpfully.
‘Yes, exactly. How can people who call themselves civilised behave like that? And his own profession, not much better – a minority tried to get him expelled from Equity, so that he wouldn’t have been able to act at all.’
‘Do you know him?’ asked Diana curiously.
‘I met him once or twice. The man I left Ned’s father for was a distinguished painter, he did a lot of theatricals. He didn’t paint Gielgud, but one went to parties, of course, met people.’
‘What a life you’ve had,’ said Diana, smiling at her.
‘Anyway, back to Ned . . . the thing is, he’s desperately lonely. He’s terrified of being – challenged. Especially since breaking the engagement to that lovely Jillie. Do you know her?’
‘No, I don’t. And if you want me to take him out, show him a good time, I’m afraid it wouldn’t work. He’d be suspicious and wary, would refuse any invitations, I’m afraid.’
‘Really? How disappointing. But I do have one idea. There’s to be a big ball, in early December, fundraising for the hospital, St Luke’s Chelsea, and he’s agreed to take me. He more or less has to go, but I shall tell him this evening that you’re joining us – I’m sure there’s some man you can bring. One of those photographers, perhaps, or are they all queer too?’
‘Some of them,’ said Diana, laughing, ‘but not all. Anyway, I wouldn’t bring one of them.’
‘No, Ned might think you were matchmaking, which would be quite dreadful.’
‘I can find someone of a most unremarkable make-up. And I could also ask Wendelien Bellinger and her husband: they’d love to come.’
‘You are a splendid girl!’ cried Persephone, and she got up and flung her arms round Diana, kissing her rapturously and almost knocking the champagne from her hand.
Ned arrived, clearly exhausted. ‘Sorry, no dinner jacket, Mother, but I thought better to come and disgrace you like this than be another half-hour late.’
‘Darling, it’s fine. Have a glass of champagne quickly and tell us what you’ve been doing.’
‘I don’t think that’d be at all a good idea,’ said Ned. ‘It would put you off your dinner. Just let’s call it emergency surgery. Anyway –’ He took the glass gratefully. ‘Hello, Diana, so nice to see you.’
‘Just seeing her – or rather looking at her – is extremely nice,’ said Persephone. ‘More than nice, she looks amazing. You should hire yourself out just to be gazed at, Diana, only I suppose that’s exactly what you do do.’
‘Sort of,’ said Diana, smiling at Ned. He smiled back warmly, clearly happy to be with her, and more important still, at ease.
‘Only don’t go hanging out of any more helicopters, Diana,’ he said. ‘It was the most frightening thing I’ve ever seen.’
‘Not you too!’ said Diana. ‘My mother and my ex-husband are both nagging at me about it, and telling me to be more careful. It was just – fun. And such a good photograph, you must admit.’
‘Quite possibly. But no photograph would be worth risking your life for, surely.’
His expression as he looked at her was genuinely anxious. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.
‘It’s all right. I won’t do it again. I promise.’
‘Good,’ he said, smiling.
In spite of everything she knew and understood and had learned of him that evening, it was really rather lovely to have him so concerned about her.
Dinner was fun – in a charmingly random way. Persephone talked about her youth in the thirties and the wilder aspects of the war: ‘Marvellous evenings at the dear old Dorch, goodness it was fun, champagne cocktails, things like grouse which one might have thought were extinct, salmon –’
‘It sounds quite disgraceful to me,’ said Ned, but his eyes smiled into his mother’s.
He had always had the ability to combine rather engagingly a strong moral code of his own – certainly when it came to more minor transgressions – with an easy acceptance of the lack of one in others.
‘Well, of course it was,’ said Persephone, ‘but we enjoyed it.’
‘And that makes it perfectly all right, I suppose?’
‘Not perfectly, but better. I mean, no point drinking champagne and thinking what a nasty taste it had, now would there be?’
‘I suppose not.’
‘Oh, Ned, of course not!’ said Diana impatiently. ‘I mean, suppose I stole some jewellery and then looked hideous in it. What a shame that would be.’
‘I can’t think you’d ever look hideous in anything.’
‘Well, thank you, but you’re dodging the moral issue.’
‘Nothing moral about that issue,’ said Ned, grinning.
‘Oh, OK. You win. So,’ she said, ‘how is the practice doing?
‘Well – the private one is slow, but paediatrics is a new field, more like orthopaedics in a way, knock knees and so on. Lot of tonsils, of course. God, there can’t be many tonsils left in London. However, the NHS practice is going extremely well, orthopods glad to get some help – and then, more to the point, it’s led me to what I have decided is my real cause in life. Something I care passionately about, where I can really make a difference, I think.’
His face was very serious.