her critical manner was not the king’s unquestioning acceptance of such behaviour but the enjoyment he apparently derived from it. The more of a bully she became, the more he seemed to like it. There was something schoolmistressy about the way she spoke to him that reminded Evangeline of the way a mother treats a wayward child. Could it be that Queen Mary had never devoted the time to discipline her eldest son? Or perhaps the explanation lay with his father, George V, who had been by all accounts an excessive disciplinarian and had squeezed out the gentler motherly instincts of his shy and slightly frightened wife. Either way, their eldest son, now in his forties, appeared to have at last found a variation of the maternal bond he had craved for so long.
Whatever the explanation for the strangeness of the relationship, Wallis seemed tenser by the day. Evangeline even wondered if some sort of breaking point was imminent. If so, the buildup was not enjoyable to witness. She wished for the dozenth time that Julian or even May were there to talk to. Lady Diana seemed aware that something was up but Evangeline did not dare introduce the subject and Lady Diana did not invite chattiness. Besides Lady Diana had recently been struck down with a bout of tonsillitis and was confined to her cabin.
Turning these thoughts over in her mind while the others were safely on land and out of sight, Evangeline would sometimes take off her summer dress and lie down on the shady deck in her patched-up bathing suit, with no threat of being watched. Occasionally she would remove her sweltering wig and pop it on the stool beside her, while at the same time ensuring her exposed and sensitive scalp remained well out of the sun’s glare.
One member of the crew became endearingly attentive to Evangeline. Georgio spoke nothing but Greek but he would always spot Evangeline sitting on her own, bent over a half-completed jigsaw of a wooden Renoir seascape. Her concentration was instantly and willingly sidetracked whenever the muscular young Greek appeared beside her, indicating with loud smacking noises of his fingers to his lips, that he would be happy to bring Evangeline something refreshing to drink, or maybe one of the chef’s pastry and honey cakes.
One afternoon when the rest of the party had gone ashore to look at a temple that predated the birth of Christ by five hundred years, Evangeline had chosen a favourite chair in the shade, near where the retractable sea ladder was stowed. As Georgio came up the ladder from the sea, she was about to call out in greeting when she saw he was not alone. Georgio did not notice Evangeline in the afternoon shadow because all his attention was focused on the figure that was following him up the steps from the water. A young woman appeared at the top of the ladder wearing a matching two-piece garment of pink gingham that had never featured in any of Evangeline’s fashion magazines. A brassiere encasing a pair of enviably firm breasts was separated from its matching pants by a flat, milk-chocolate torso. Georgio helped her onto the deck, his wet green trunks clinging to every contour of his formidable physique.
Motioning with a finger to his lips for the girl to stay silent, Georgio was doing all he could to contain his laughter. As the dripping couple stood together on the firm surface of the boat the semi-naked woman gripped the salty wet material of her swimming pants and licking her lips with the tip of a raspberry-pink tongue, she squeezed. A fine horizontal jet of water shot into the air before falling in shimmering droplets onto the deck. The party trick was answered by an appreciative kiss blown through the air from Georgio’s moistened lips.
Evangeline was unable to look away. Hand in hand the couple disappeared below deck, as Evangeline stared after them. Suddenly there was a movement in the shadows opposite. Muffled in a blanket, a bowl of yoghurt and a thermometer on the table beside her, Lady Diana Cooper was looking over at Evangeline and smiling very broadly indeed. Evangeline, flattered by the invitation to conspiracy, smiled back.
A sailor was polishing the handrail near the ladder up which Georgio and his friend had recently climbed. Evangeline thought she recognised May’s brother from the day when May had pointed him out at the maiden voyage of the Queen Mary.
“Sam?” she said enquiringly.
“Oh, Miss Nettlefold, what