Page 29 of An Invitation to the Kennedys
Ordinary Germans, Doris had noted, prided themselves on being able to tell one from another immediately, correctly address the person wearing it – who was ablockleiter, anortsgruppenleiter?– and shade their deference accordingly.
‘I told them you would be back,’ he said.
Chapter Fifteen
London
Honor
The morning they were due to motor down to Kelvedon, Honor came downstairs to find Andrews hovering in the hallway.Her heart sank.
‘Madame, may I have a word?’
‘You are having a word, Andrews.What is it?’
‘There is a lady in the library, Madame.’
‘Well, why have you not shown her in?I will receive her in the small drawing room.’
‘The lady is asleep, Madame.’
Hence, she thought, the hovering.‘You’d better tell me.’
‘I believe it to be Ms Ponsonby but it is difficult to be certain.’
‘I see.Well, I’d better go and have a look.Will you bring coffee?Strong coffee.’
In the library, the heavy green velvet curtains were still partially closed, so that light came through only in one narrow shaft.The whole room looked as though Andrews had been interrupted in his task.A collection of sticky glasses had been herded to one corner of the vast leather-topped desk but not yet removed.Beside them, a near-empty bottle of crème de menthe had the same thick green hue as the light coming through the curtains, so that the room made Honor think of the swimming pool at Elveden after winter – when jade-coloured algae grew dense around the concrete sides and bottom, turning the trapped rainwater to the same greenish hue as the copper-domed roof.Beside the bottle, a dusting of white powder told her that Chips had been at his trickery again; ‘dynamite’ he called it.
On a sofa in the corner, illuminated by a finger of light, someone lay sprawled, half covered by a fringed shawl.Honor moved closer.The someone’s head was tucked in under a bare white arm, and the corner of the fringed shawl had been pulled almost to the top of the head so that only a few dusty brown curls were visible.It was a woman, and indeed there was something about the lanky form, the insolence of that flung-out arm, that said Elizabeth Ponsonby.Momentarily, Honor marvelled at Andrews’ discernment.
‘Elizabeth.’She shook the arm.Her skin was cold to touch.It was already warm outside but the library never saw sun until lunchtime.Nothing.‘Elizabeth.’She shook the arm again, harder.A slurred murmur from beneath the shawl.‘Elizabeth.’Louder, harder.
‘What is it?’A voice raspy with sleep and whatever had been drunk and smoked the night before.
‘Elizabeth, get up!’Honor said sharply.The figure stirred and the arm dropped, taking the shawl with it so that a face was visible.It was indeed Elizabeth, her round eyes – like a surprised baby, Honor had always thought – more heavily lidded than usual.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said, struggling to sit up.The straps of her evening dress, some kind of deep red silk, slipped down so that Honor saw far more of her bosom than she wanted to.
‘Who else would it be?What are you doing asleep in my library?’
‘I wasn’t entirely sure where I was,’ Elizabeth confided.She pushed her hair back from where it hung, tangled, around her face.‘Might you have a cigarette?’
Honor fetched a box from the desk and offered her one.Elizabeth’s hands shook so badly she could barely get the cigarette into her mouth, let alone light it.Honor plucked it from between her lips, lit it herself and passed it back, blowing out a cloud of smoke.‘Yeuch.I don’t know how you can at this time.’
‘Don’t be censorious, darling, not so early.’Her voice shook too.
‘Now, what are you doing here?’
‘Well,’ Elizabeth leaned forward, confidingly, ‘I don’tquiteknow … We were at the Café de Paris, and then some darling little dive off Mayfair.One of Ma Merrick’s, I expect.Your husband was there.Or was he somewhere else?’She screwed her face up, trying to remember.
‘Never mind that.Why here?’
‘Well, the police arrived and broke up the Mayfair place.Which makes me think it can’t have been Ma, because of how she’s so careful to pay the poor fellows so they don’t have to waste their time at such silliness …’
‘Elizabeth!’
‘I’m getting there, darling.Be patient.’She took another drag of her cigarette, blowing smoke into Honor’s face.‘Your husband – ever so jolly!– suggested we come back here for justone.And, well, here I am.’She looked around brightly.
