Page 43 of An Invitation to the Kennedys
Kick
‘Might I ask something?’Kick said to Brigid after dinner.
Without any discussion, they had set themselves a little apart from the rest, in a corner of the drawing room.Now that the sun had finally set, and the lamps been lit, the grey walls and painted ceiling seemed to have drawn in and down, making it more intimate.The pools of light cast by the many lamps that stood on every surface – lamps with fringed tassels, with glass shades in gaudy colours, angled to cast their glow now up, now down – deepened the colours and parcelled up the room into fascinating pockets, like a series of lighted tableaux or small stages.Between each of them was the unknowable dark of an auditorium.On one such stage was Brigid’s cousin, Maureen, looking cold and glamorous; on another Honor, pretending not to read although Kick could clearly see the book held in her left hand; her own mother, turning the pages of a big heavy book of photographs and watching Elizabeth flick ash from the end of her cigarette into the fireplace, missing so often that the hearth was littered with flecks of ash and even a few cigarette butts.Elizabeth stood with one foot up on the fender and Kick wondered that she didn’t burn the sole of her shoe.
‘You might,’ Brigid said.
‘It’s about the prince.’
‘Fritzi?What about him?’
Kick paused.How to put into words what she wanted to know.‘He was at my coming-out ball,’ she began.
‘Mine too,’ Brigid said.‘I danced with him.Twice, if I recall.’
‘Me too.And he was seated beside me at dinner.’
‘And?’
‘Well, don’t you wonder?I mean, it’s like every time I turn around, there he is.But now it seems like every time you turn around, there he is too …’
‘I see what you mean.’Brigid’s lip twitched.‘You think they are setting us up?’
‘I do.’
‘I knew they were setting me up.Chips is shameless.He tells me all his plans because he thinks I’m a willing co-conspirator.But what is one to do?’She shrugged.‘I mean, that’s what they do, isn’t it?Set us up?Wonder and speculate and plot.Who we might marry, who we must not marry, how high we may aim.It’s hateful, but it’s what they do.’
‘Is it?It isn’t in America.’
‘Well, now you are in England.’She shrugged again.‘Anyway, Chips may do what he likes.And I’ – she tilted her chin a little – ‘I shall do what I like.’Then, with a giggle, ‘I say, do you think they know they’re in competition?’
‘As long asweknow we aren’t in competition.’
‘Are we not?’Brigid asked, giving Kick a level look.
‘Not.Leastways, I’m not.Not a bit of it.’
‘You seem awfully sure.Heisa prince.And, if Chips has his way, will one day be an emperor.’She burst out laughing.
‘Terribly cute,’ Kick agreed solemnly.Then, ‘But I am oh-so-sure.You see …’
‘Oh.’Brigid smiled slyly.‘There’s someone you like, isn’t there?Who is it?’
‘You can’t tell.’
‘Who would I tell?’
‘Anyone.You can’t tell anyone.’
‘Not a soul.Cross my heart and hope to die.’She blessed herself quickly and sketchily, a loosely drawn sign of the cross, then saw the shocked look on Kick’s face.‘I say, sorry!It’s what we used to say in the nursery at Elveden.It only means I promise I won’t.’
‘Well, OK then,’ Kick said after a moment.‘He’s called Billy.’Her voice snagged on the name.
‘Billy Cavendish?’
‘You know him?Well, of course you do.All you English know each other.’But how well?she wondered in a sudden panic.
‘Everyone knows him,’ Brigid said.‘He sat on my other side at my coming-out.’She began to laugh.‘Chips wasquitepersuaded he’d do.Until he thought of Fritzi.’She laughed again, then saw Kick’s face.‘No one thinks he’d do now.Least of all me.I mean, he’s a dear, sweet fellow.In fact, they say he might do for the princess Elizabeth …’
