asked her to send her clothes to Baltimore, May confirmed that of course she would. On arrival at the Portsmouth hotel May considered whether it would be in order to attempt the intimacy of a farewell embrace. But Miss Nettlefold had folded her arms across her chest and was looking out to sea as the hotel porter retrieved the small bag from the boot. Both women stood by the car and for a moment looked steadily at each another. And then May Thomas watched Miss Nettlefold walk alone into the small quayside hotel, her broad shoulders hunched beneath the flapping fur coat. May had rarely seen anyone look so lonely.
Shortly after Miss Nettlefold’s voluntary exile, Mrs. Simpson also fled the country under cover of darkness and no one, let alone Mrs. Simpson herself, knew when she might be reunited with the man who was no longer king. In a way, May felt sorry for Mrs. Simpson. May knew what it was to be separated from someone who you longed to be with every moment of the day. As if the distressing circumstances of the departure had not been enough, Valerie had told May of the sad news of the death of Loafer, Mrs. Simpson’s puppy. When Osborne, the butler, found Loafer in a cupboard at the top of the stairs, he initially thought Loafer had gone into hiding to escape the raised voices and unsettling hurly-burly of the house, but the body had obviously been stone cold for a while. The local vet made some tests on the dead animal and was puzzled to discover that Loafer’s blood had been contaminated by an inexplicable and lethal dose of rat poison.
During the car journey down to Cuckmere, at the end of a week in which a king had chosen the love of a woman over duty to his country, the subject of Miss Nettlefold had arisen between May and Sir Philip for the first time since Miss Nettlefold’s unexplained flight. Something had happened the day she spent with Sir John at Crystal Palace to prompt Miss Nettlefold’s immediate exile and yet May doubted whether she, Sir Philip or anyone would ever be able to guess the truth. A good lunch with Sir John Reith in the club might shine some light on the mysterious affair, Philip thought to himself.
“I wonder whether she would have allowed herself to become so unhappy if Joan had been here to help,” Sir Philip said aloud after May had described how she had driven Miss Nettlefold to the hotel near the Portsmouth docks. “She always seemed like a lost soul to me. The world is an indiscriminate place,” he said. “There are those who succeed despite themselves, and there are others who cannot escape the weapons of sabotage that they wield on themselves. It is as if an instinct for self-preservation sometimes fails us.”
As Sir Philip brought out his handkerchief and blew his nose, he brushed both of his eyes lightly with the palm of his hand before picking up his pipe and packing the bowl with tobacco. A little embarrassed by his emotion May looked away but not before noticing that Sir Philip’s favourite photograph of Joan was once more sitting in its old place in front of him on his desk.
Mrs. Cage finally left the seclusion of her bedroom, her usual energy restored together with an air of purpose as she set about the complex business of decorating the large house for Christmas. The Blunt children would both be joining their father for the holidays and were each bringing a friend to stay for the festivities. Mrs. Cage asked Mr. Hooch to select a suitable spruce from the estate and to position it in the echoey stone hallway. Florence was looking forward to helping with the decorations. Cooky had begun drawing up mouthwatering menus and gradually a sense of gaiety and optimism returned to the servants’ hall. Florence had secretly persuaded her mother to buy May some skates for Christmas and was planning to show off her skill at balancing on ice as soon as the water in the lake froze over. And Mrs. Cage had promised Florence a special holiday early in the New Year. She was waiting for the right moment to divulge to her daughter that they were going to spend a few days with her friends in Bavaria.
On the morning after the king signed the papers renouncing the throne, May joined Mrs. Cage in the smaller spare bedroom at Cuckmere.