Page 101 of An Invitation to the Kennedys
‘Emperor Friedrich,’ Chips said, bowing low at the waist.
Poor Fritzi started and took a step back.
Duff laughed out loud.It was a laugh without any real mirth, and unusual enough for everyone to turn and stare.‘You are joking,’ he said.
‘Why should I be joking?’
‘Emperor of what?’Duff demanded.‘There is no room for emperors where there is already a dictator.’
‘Notemperors, just one emperor,’ Chips said.
‘One teeny-weeny-tiny little emperor,’ Elizabeth mocked.
‘Can you not be quiet?’Chips suddenly rounded on her.‘Why are you even here?’
Elizabeth’s round eyes grew rounder again, like a baby encountering pain – confused as much as hurt by this thing it doesn’t understand.And, just like a baby, her eyes slowly filled with water, their blue submerged and diluted, like the bottom tiles of the swimming pool, Honor thought.
‘Chips!’she said.‘There is no need to be cruel.Elizabeth, I beg you not to listen to him.’
‘I think we should go indoors.’That was Duff.
But the drawing room was no better.‘You are born to this,’ Chips declared.
Fritzi by now looked as though he too might cry.
‘Stop hounding him, Chips,’ Brigid said, indignant.
Chips ignored her.‘And when your grandfather dies – and after all, even the kaiser cannot live forever – there will be a wave of Hohenzollern sentiment that you must be poised to take advantage of—’ He was flapping his arms now, like some kind of great bird.Honor imagined him taking off, borne aloft on the wave of excitement that had overtaken him, disappearing out the double doors that stood open behind him and up into the saturating sky.
‘Do not say such things!’Fritzi suddenly spoke more sharply than Honor had ever heard him, instantly backed up by Duff.
‘Do not,’ he agreed loudly.He crossed to the doors behind Chips, shut them firmly and drew the curtains across.‘Maureen, perhaps you would play something for us?’He looked at his wife, then at the piano and, to Honor’s astonishment, Maureen – who was not musical and could barely play at all – looked back at him and nodded.No caustic reply, no display of searing wit.Just a nod.She went and sat down and opened the instrument.She played one of Bach’s Preludes, badly, and too fast, but loudly and for long enough – she played it twice, starting at the beginning the very moment she reached the end – that they had a chance to settle themselves, for the agitation in the air to dissipate.
Honor watched them move about the room and form smaller groups.Kick, Brigid and Fritzi gathered by the door as though looking for an escape.Doris and Elizabeth went to stand with Duff in a way that seemed almost protective.The ambassador and Mrs Kennedy sat close together, at a remove, and Honor realised that the visit, from that perspective, had been a failure.They had not been folded in, in the way Chips had hoped.Or the way Duff had hoped.The early promise – the charm of Kelvedon, of the lazy days and good weather, Rose’s inclination to be intrigued by Duff – had all come to nothing.
Was it the Catholic outburst?she wondered.Kick’s obvious attraction to Billy that was just as obviously disapproved of by her parents – and his, she thought, remembering Moucher’s look of horror when Kick had airily said, We saw His Holiness?Chips’ clumsy and unwanted championing of Fritzi’s cause?
Maybe all those things, and enough time spent together to realise that, after all, they didn’t understand each other nearly as well as hoped.They would make their excuses and leave early, she realised.As early as the next day even.The ambassador would find a reason why he must return to London, would insist his wife and daughter came with him.Chips would be disappointed.He would feel his failure all the more keenly after this evening.
But perhaps it was time for them all to go, she thought, looking at Brigid and Fritzi, laughing together at something in a magazine.Whatever might or might not be happening there, she would slow it down, she decided.Not encourage it.
Maureen finished at the piano and gave a mocking bow, to scattered applause.She came and sat beside Honor.‘I had no idea you played so well,’ Honor said politely.
‘I don’t and you know it,’ Maureen said, lighting a cigarette.‘But it was that or juggle.’
Honor was still puzzling out what exactly she meant, when Duff came over and put his hand on Maureen’s shoulder.‘Thank you,’ he said.Maureen leaned her cheek sideways so it rested against his hand.
‘No need to thank me,’ she said, looking up at him.Maureen, who insisted on being thanked for the smallest kindness.And to Honor’s astonishment, she turned her head and kissed the back of his hand where her cheek had been.Her eyes were strangely bright, and Honor, if she hadn’t known better, might have said she was crying.
*
Later, in her bedroom, where Doris was brushing her hair, a tap at the door.Brigid.‘Can I come in, or are you telling secrets?’she asked, putting her head round.
‘Come on.’
‘What a horrid evening.’Brigid sat on the bed, tucking her feet under her and leaning back against the end-board.She wore striped flannel pyjamas and had a mug of something hot so that steam rose around her face, making it glow pinkish.She looked, Honor thought, about twelve.
‘Horrid,’ Honor agreed.‘What are you drinking?’
