to you nearly all my life. I’ll never forget the day I first saw you – up a tree in Grosvenor Square, hanging upside down like a monkey, with those funny sticky-out plaits.’
‘And you shouted “Hey, you! Get out of here! It’s private land!”’
He had the good grace to look abashed. ‘Oh, Lord. I was a pompous little boy, wasn’t I?’
Baba took a sip of her tea to hide her smile. The truth was that Richard still had plenty of pompous moments.
He continued to regard her over his steepled fingers. ‘Heavens. Who would have thought to look at you back then that you’d turn out to be so . . .’ For once, he appeared lost for words.
‘Grown up?’ supplied Baba.
‘Grown up. That’ll do.’
‘Is that a compliment, Richard?’
‘It most certainly is a compliment.’
‘Thank you!’ Since Carole Lombard had said in her ‘Introduction to Charm’ in
Film Pictorial
that it was always more seemly to acknowledge a compliment than not, Baba gave Richard a winsome smile, then lowered her eyes and surveyed the cake stand. She’d have loved to scoff one of the delicious little chocolate éclairs that the Palm Court did so well, but she had her figure to think of now that Hollywood was on the horizon, and her girdle could only achieve so much. She’d be better off sticking to sandwiches, and the miniature smoked salmon ones were irresistible.
She popped one into her mouth. When she raised her eyes, Richard was still looking at her: immediately she knew what was coming. She felt her heart go into a kind of skid as he reached into his pocket, produced a box, and set it on the table in front of her.
‘You know what that is,’ he said.
Baba nodded. It would have been disingenuous to pretend she didn’t.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
She chewed and finally swallowed her sandwich with an effort. ‘Why – it’s a ring.’
‘Aren’t you going to open the box?’
Baba sent him a pleading look. ‘No, Richard. Please don’t ask me to.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I can’t marry you.’
‘You say that now. But we’re living in troubled times. This war is going to be fast and furious, Baba, and the most stable institution that we can cling to will be the institution of marriage.’
Oh, God! How could he describe marriage as an ‘institution’? The words just didn’t belong together.
‘But—’
‘Listen to me! Just hear me out. If you marry me, Baba, I can offer you all the security you need. I’m wealthy, and I have prospects. As you know, I have my own Chambers – and I’m extremely well connected politically. I’m in negotiation with the diplomatic corps; I intend to make politics my career. At the highest level. I don’t want to appear arrogant, but I know that one day there will be a place in the Cabinet for me.’ He smiled. ‘How does the idea of being Prime Minister’s wife appeal to you?’
Baba floundered around for a spanner to jam into the works. ‘But – but how could a Prime Minister have an actress as a wife? It’s unheard of.’
Richard reached across the table and took her hands in his. ‘That would be the one sacrifice I’d have to ask you to make,’ he said. ‘I don’t expect you to give up your dream of going to Hollywood – of course I don’t – but when things don’t work out for you there you may be very glad to give up any notions about going into films, and decide to return home and marry me.’
‘But I—’
‘Shh!’ Richard touched Baba’s lips with a forefinger. ‘Don’t say anything just yet. Just think about what I’ve said. And open the box.’
She shouldn’t have. She knew she shouldn’t have opened it, but she couldn’t resist it, any more than she had resisted that smoked salmon sandwich.
It was a diamond. It was the prettiest darn diamond she had ever seen – set in platinum – and she knew that it must have cost Richard a great deal of money.
She looked at the diamond, and then she looked back at Richard, and steeled
‘And you shouted “Hey, you! Get out of here! It’s private land!”’
He had the good grace to look abashed. ‘Oh, Lord. I was a pompous little boy, wasn’t I?’
Baba took a sip of her tea to hide her smile. The truth was that Richard still had plenty of pompous moments.
He continued to regard her over his steepled fingers. ‘Heavens. Who would have thought to look at you back then that you’d turn out to be so . . .’ For once, he appeared lost for words.
‘Grown up?’ supplied Baba.
‘Grown up. That’ll do.’
‘Is that a compliment, Richard?’
‘It most certainly is a compliment.’
‘Thank you!’ Since Carole Lombard had said in her ‘Introduction to Charm’ in
Film Pictorial
that it was always more seemly to acknowledge a compliment than not, Baba gave Richard a winsome smile, then lowered her eyes and surveyed the cake stand. She’d have loved to scoff one of the delicious little chocolate éclairs that the Palm Court did so well, but she had her figure to think of now that Hollywood was on the horizon, and her girdle could only achieve so much. She’d be better off sticking to sandwiches, and the miniature smoked salmon ones were irresistible.
She popped one into her mouth. When she raised her eyes, Richard was still looking at her: immediately she knew what was coming. She felt her heart go into a kind of skid as he reached into his pocket, produced a box, and set it on the table in front of her.
‘You know what that is,’ he said.
Baba nodded. It would have been disingenuous to pretend she didn’t.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
She chewed and finally swallowed her sandwich with an effort. ‘Why – it’s a ring.’
‘Aren’t you going to open the box?’
Baba sent him a pleading look. ‘No, Richard. Please don’t ask me to.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I can’t marry you.’
‘You say that now. But we’re living in troubled times. This war is going to be fast and furious, Baba, and the most stable institution that we can cling to will be the institution of marriage.’
Oh, God! How could he describe marriage as an ‘institution’? The words just didn’t belong together.
‘But—’
‘Listen to me! Just hear me out. If you marry me, Baba, I can offer you all the security you need. I’m wealthy, and I have prospects. As you know, I have my own Chambers – and I’m extremely well connected politically. I’m in negotiation with the diplomatic corps; I intend to make politics my career. At the highest level. I don’t want to appear arrogant, but I know that one day there will be a place in the Cabinet for me.’ He smiled. ‘How does the idea of being Prime Minister’s wife appeal to you?’
Baba floundered around for a spanner to jam into the works. ‘But – but how could a Prime Minister have an actress as a wife? It’s unheard of.’
Richard reached across the table and took her hands in his. ‘That would be the one sacrifice I’d have to ask you to make,’ he said. ‘I don’t expect you to give up your dream of going to Hollywood – of course I don’t – but when things don’t work out for you there you may be very glad to give up any notions about going into films, and decide to return home and marry me.’
‘But I—’
‘Shh!’ Richard touched Baba’s lips with a forefinger. ‘Don’t say anything just yet. Just think about what I’ve said. And open the box.’
She shouldn’t have. She knew she shouldn’t have opened it, but she couldn’t resist it, any more than she had resisted that smoked salmon sandwich.
It was a diamond. It was the prettiest darn diamond she had ever seen – set in platinum – and she knew that it must have cost Richard a great deal of money.
She looked at the diamond, and then she looked back at Richard, and steeled
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