Page 85 of The Gathering Storm

‘What’s that?’ said Verena.

‘The Simpson divorce,’ he said. ‘A notice here that the decree absolute has gone through. I imagine the ex-King is galloping to her side even as we speak.’ He put the paper down. ‘It’s interesting how completely they’ve been forgotten, isn’t it?’

Verena was decapitating her egg and didn’t look up. ‘I suppose so. You never read anything about them in the papers now.’

‘I think the whole country is just relieved it’s all over. And the new King and Queen are doing very well. They’re tremendously popular everywhere they go.’

‘He did awfully well at the Coronation,’ Verena said. ‘Considering the strain there must have been on him, and all the awkward things he had to say. I was afraid there would be embarrassing silences. You know how he gulps, and his jaw works when he can’t get a particular word out.’

‘Oh, he had a speech tutor, who went through the whole thing with him. Rehearsals every day until he was comfortable with it.’

‘I didn’t know that,’ Verena said. ‘Who is he?’

‘The tutor? An Australian fellow – used to help shell-shock victims after the war, who had trouble with speaking.’

‘I haven’t heard anything about that.’

‘I don’t think the King would want it generally known,’ said Oliver. ‘He’s pretty sensitive about the stammer. But I’ve spoken to the fellow professionally once or twice. He has rooms in Harley Street, not far from mine. We’ve consulted about hare-lip patients – I did the surgery, and he did the speech therapy. He has no professional training – I’m afraid some of my colleagues dismiss him a quack – but he’s had some good results. He’s a very nice fellow, infinitely patient and kind, which helps when dealing with children.’

Verena buttered a piece of toast. ‘He must have been working very hard with the King, to get him through the wireless broadcast after the Coronation. I didn’t hear any stammering at all. There was just that pause at the beginning when nothing happened – I was afraid he’d got stuck and would never speak at all.’

Oliver smiled. ‘I heard about that from Tommy Lascelles. It was just a mistake of timing. The King was supposed to walk from the anteroom into the studio while the National Anthem was playing, and take his seat in front of the microphone just as it finished. But they’d timed it wrongly, and the anthem finished before he got there.’

‘I see. Well, it was a very nice speech. I think he’ll do very well, don’t you?’

‘We’re lucky to have him. And the Queen.’

‘It makes you realise how unsuitable the Simpson woman would have been. Imagine her being crowned in Westminster Abbey, kneeling under the canopy, being handed the sceptre and rod and so on.’ She shuddered. ‘She would probably have wanted to “modernise” the whole thing.’

‘She’d have ordered jazz singers instead of the Abbey choir. “I Got Rhythm” instead of “Zadok the Priest”. But it would never have happened: Cosmo Lang would never have crowned her, let alone anointed her.’

Verena put down her knife. ‘Yet here we are, talking about her again. Let’s not. We’ve got the Buckingham Palace dinner party on the seventeenth, and Lady Sutherland’s ball on the eighteenth to look forward to.’

‘Have you decided what to wear?’ Oliver asked. ‘Apparently the King’s asked the Queen’s dressmaker to design her something based on those Winterhalter portraits of Queen Victoria – you know, crinolines and lace berthas.’

‘Hmm. Well, I suppose it would suit her. She is quite … round.’

‘I like roundness. It’s cheerful. Better than being stick-thin and miserable like—’

‘Don’t say it! We are not going to talk about Wallis Simpson any more.’

‘Who? I don’t know who you’re referring to,’ Oliver said solemnly.

‘According to Fruity,’ Kit said, as their car conveyed them to the ball, ‘David caused deep offence to Kitty Rothschild, after she’d lent him her château for all those months. When she left for Paris, he didn’t bother to get out of bed to say goodbye to her, let alone thank her. Now he’s bundled off to join Wally without tipping the servants, and he’s left behind a socking great telephone bill – all those long-distance chats with his beloved. Fruity said he asked Wally to ask David to do something about it – even a nice thank-you letter would help – and got a very sharp retort.’

‘She was never very keen on paying bills,’ Emma said. ‘I can’t see her pressing David to do it. And doesn’t he claim to be hard up, these days?’

‘He pretty much has to, given that he’s trying to prise a pension out of the government. But I imagine her real disgruntlement is about not being an HRH.’

‘I didn’t understand that,’ Emma said. ‘I thought once an HRH, always an HRH. David’s been one since birth, so wouldn’t that make his wife an HRH too?’

‘In normal circumstance, yes,’ Kit agreed, ‘but the argument by the Lord Chancellor was that in renouncing the succession, he also renounced his royal rank. And according to Clive Wigram, by abdicating in order to marry Wally, David accepted that she wasn’t fit to be queen. So, logically, she must be unfit to be a member of the Royal Family. Wigram says the brothers agree, and the old Queen does, of course, and the Dominion prime ministers.’

‘So what are the Letters Patent about?’

‘Well, the King is still fond of him, even after all he’s done. So the Letters Patent say that the D of W shall, notwithstanding the Act of Abdication, hold and enjoy the style of Royal Highness, but that his wife and descendants shall not. A wee wedding gift from one brother to another.’

‘A gift that will annoy the recipient no end,’ Emma remarked. It was raining again, the drops slapping against the window beside her and running diagonally down the glass. It had rained most of Coronation Day, too.