LATER, WHEN RACHEL PONDERED THE ABRUPT END of the interview with Susie, something niggled: it seemed as though it was the mention of Villa Windsor that had upset her the most. Alex had asked many more intrusive questions than that. Why had she leapt from her seat and refused to carry on when he asked if Diana and Dodi were thinking of living there? Did she know more about the visit than she was admitting?
On her way to Forgotten Dreams the next morning, Rachel stopped at a bookshop and bought one of the biographies of Diana that were stacked high on the table nearest the door. When she got to her shop, she made a cup of tea then checked the index.
There was just one entry for Hargreaves: a mention that when Diana’s mother, Frances Shand Kydd, left her father, Earl Spencer, she had stayed for a while with her old friend Elizabeth Hargreaves at their home near Chichester. In the court case that ensued, Frances lost custody of her children after her own mother, Lady Fermoy, testified against her, calling her ‘a bolter’. Women weren’t supposed to leave marriages in the 1960s, it seemed, no matter how unhappy.
There was nothing about the Villa Windsor. Rachel closed the book and checked the time: 10 a.m. Not too early to phone. She dialled Susie’s number.
‘I just wanted to check you were OK,’ she began. ‘And to say sorry the interview was gruelling.’
‘Honestly, don’t worry,’ Susie replied. ‘I’m so emotional at the moment, I burst into tears at the drop of a hat.’
‘I hope you weren’t upset by Alex’s questions . . .’ Rachel twirled the cord of the phone in her fingers.
‘No, I’m not an idiot. I knew that was what he would be looking for. The story of Diana’s charity work is not nearly as attractive to the media as tittle-tattle about her romances. That was always the case when she was alive and it remains true now. Poor Diana. She had terrible luck with men.’ There was a pause, as if she was inviting Rachel to ask more.
‘Did she often confide in you about her love life?’ Rachel held her breath, worried that Susie might find the question intrusive, but she didn’t appear to.
‘Sometimes, yes. She was stuck in a terrible pattern of picking wrong ’uns, then getting needy and anxious and driving them away. You know her mother left home when she was six? I always think it’s harder for those who’ve lost a parent in childhood to form healthy relationships in later life.’
That was Alex, Rachel mused. He lost a parent. But he certainly didn’t come across as needy or anxious. Out loud, she asked: ‘Do you think it might have worked with Dodi?’
‘I have no idea if he would have been the one to break the mould, but he seemed nice. I’m just glad she was happy in her final weeks.’ Her voice trembled.
Rachel remembered the other reason for her phone call. ‘We didn’t have a chance to go through any clothes. Do you want to set a date?’
‘How about Friday?’ Susie suggested.
Rachel couldn’t afford to close the shop on a Friday; it was one of her busier days, when women were seeking new outfits for the weekend. She would have to ask Nicola to help for the first time since the break-in. ‘Let me check and get back to you,’ she said.
‘I can’t do Friday,’ Nicola replied straight away.
‘What’s up? Have you got a hot date?’ Rachel asked. Nicola usually found her next boyfriend soon after the door closed on the last.
‘I should be so lucky,’ Nicola replied. ‘No, I’m going to London for the day. Sorry.’
Rachel rang Susie back. ‘I can’t get cover for Friday. Is there another time you can manage?’
‘Why not come this evening?’ Susie suggested. ‘You can drive across after the shop closes. I’ll even throw in a light supper.’
That was a relief: it meant there was no residual awkwardness over Alex’s interview; it sounded as though she still wanted to be friends.
Rachel spent the afternoon cleaning the shop, washing the window inside and out, dusting and polishing shelves, and as she worked her mind strayed back to her recent arguments with Alex. Combined with the stress of trying to save the shop, they were wearing her down. The interview with Susie had revealed a side of him she disliked: he had come across as ruthless, using her for his own purposes rather than treating her as a woman who had recently lost a close friend. It was as if his brain had been infected by this crash conspiracy nonsense and he thought everyone who couldn’t see his point of view was stupid.
Had he invented the words he claimed to have said to Diana while she was trapped in the car? That would be unforgivable. Rachel felt as if he was losing sight of the fact that this had been a tragedy in which three human beings had died and one had been seriously injured. He should be more respectful. In her view, he shouldn’t be making this programme at all.
Later, when Alex called from Paris, she mentioned that she had spoken to Susie, and that she had recovered from her earlier distress.
He snapped back: ‘Are you implying that she was distressed because of the nasty questions I tricked her into answering? Why are you always having a go at me these days?’
‘That’s not fair!’ she protested.
‘I could really use your support right now, but perhaps that’s too much to ask.’
‘It was my introduction that got you the interview in the first place.’ He wouldn’t have heard of Susie without her, because she wasn’t one of the Sloane set with whom Diana used to be photographed having lunch in Fulham restaurants; she wasn’t mentioned in the biography Rachel had bought.
Alex wasn’t finished. ‘I keep getting the feeling you’re criticising me from your lofty position of moral superiority. It’s not your most attractive quality.’
Rachel gasped at the criticism. She opened her mouth to snap that she thought what he was doing was shoddy, but stopped herself just in time. She would talk to him at the weekend rather than having a full-scale argument on the phone.
‘I’m flying back on Thursday evening,’ Alex told her, ‘but I’ll stay at Kenny’s in London so I can get to the office first thing Friday morning.’
‘Nicola’s got some secret mission in London on Friday,’ Rachel told him. ‘Maybe you two could catch the train together.’
‘Has she?’ he asked, and she could tell from a false note in his voice that he already knew. That was odd.
‘Do you have any idea what it’s about? She avoided telling me.’
‘Haven’t a clue!’ Alex replied, then made a feeble excuse to get off the phone before she could question him further.
Rachel mulled it over and decided they must be planning a wedding surprise for her. Maybe Nicola was helping him to choose a special present. If that was the case, she wished they would tell her. Even as a child, she had never been keen on surprises.