Abdication A Novel - By Juliet Nicolson Page 0,135

and when they were joined late in the proceedings by the driver employed by the Duke of York they all speculated on the role his boss might be playing in a few days’ time.

On Thursday 10 December Sir Philip climbed wearily into the front seat of the blue Rolls-Royce. As May pulled away from the kerb Sir Philip took off his hat and buried his head in his hands. The car crossed over Westminster Bridge, the murky grey water beneath running at speed with the turning tide and Sir Philip tugged his fingers through his long uncombed hair. Eventually he spoke.

“Thank God it is all over. Edward VIII has signed the documents and Mr. Baldwin read us the statement this afternoon. By tomorrow Britain will have a new king, and you and I will deserve a rest.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Sam was on his way home after a pint with Nat in the Queen’s Arms. He was glad it was a Friday and was looking forward to spending the weekend with his sister and their cousins, especially Nat. Sam had come to regard Nat with the affection and trust worthy of brother.

The pub had been packed with regulars, and Danny, Bethnal Green’s most royalist publican, had greeted the cousins with his usual friendly welcome.

“I would be glad of a bit of advice from you two,” he announced as he filled two glasses to the brim with his home-brewed beer. “I’ve got a problem,” he said, gesturing behind him. “I want to know which one of them I should put in pride of place?”

The same three photographs still leant against a collection of dusty bottles of liquor at the back of the bar as they had done since the beginning of the year, Queen Mary in her pearls sat next to George V on his coronation day and they both looked out from their carriage on last year’s triumphant jubilee tour of London. Danny’s wife, Ruth, had put her jubilee embroidery kit beside the picture of George V. Two lines had been stitched onto the outside of the tapestry case:

Prince of Sportsmen, brilliant shot,

But happiest aboard his yacht.

A fourth photograph had been added to the collection since Nat last looked, showing a grinning Edward VIII, a much-reproduced image taken when the king was the Prince of Wales, a cigarette stuck jauntily in one side of his mouth.

“Now, do I dare put up the new one, is what I am wondering?” By now Danny was laughing. “I mean, you never know who is coming next. George and Mary to start with; then Edward, here for a moment and then gone in a blink of an eye; and now Albert. What a merry-go-round it has all been, hasn’t it Nat?”

Nat and Sam drank their first pint at the bar and discussed with Danny the shocking news of the abdication; it was only when they ordered the second pint that Sam suggested they go to a quieter table in the corner. He wanted to talk to Nat alone. Privy as he already was to the knowledge of May’s parentage, Nat did not show any surprise when Sam outlined the contents of the letter sent by Bertha. With considerable relief Nat now confessed how, on his last visit to his mother in Holloway Prison, Gladys had sworn him to secrecy about an exotic Indian who had once loved her sister. Although Gladys was horribly weak from her prolonged lack of food, she was determined that the family secret should not die with her. Despite his young age, Nat had understood the depth of love his mother held for her sister. When he turned fourteen, he had begun to develop a curiosity in the workings of the adult world and had written to his aunt Edith in Barbados, asking her to tell him something of those circumstances which his mother had hinted at during her final days. Edith’s reply, possibly written out of the relief of finally sharing her secret, contained the entire story of her love affair with Nishy. By return of post, Nat promised that if ever she and her children needed help, he would do all he could to supply it, for his mother’s sake.

“There are two things I want to say,” Sam began with a new confidence that was not lost on Nat. “The first is that I know you’re going to be a wonderful dad to Joshua and I envy him. And secondly,” and here Sam’s voice wavered for a moment, “you are the