It was the summer of 1953, and the whole country was galvanized into welcoming a New Elizabethan Age, under the spell of the breathtakingly young and lovely girl who was to be crowned their new queen.
Street parties up and down the country were being organized, miles of red, white and blue bunting festooned every building, and were strung across main roads coupled with golden crowns. Millions of Union Jacks fluttered from flagpoles. After almost fourteen years of war and the resulting austerity and hardship, people embraced this great new beginning for Britain with understandable enthusiasm. The atmosphere of hope and expectation for the future of the country was almost palpable, felt amongst those who were of the highest rank down to the lowest.
Would this be as great an age as that of Elizabeth I, the pundits asked?
‘The fact that she’s twenty-six and beautiful, married to a handsome man, and they have a son and heir and a pretty daughter, makes her the most romantic woman in modern history,’ Juliet opined to Daniel. ‘Poor old Queen Victoria, eat your heart out! I think this is a new beginning for the country. It’s the shot in the arm we all need to celebrate that the dark years are behind us.’
Daniel went out and bought their first television set, which was neatly housed in a mahogany cabinet with double doors so it resembled a piece of furniture when it was switched off, and Juliet decided to hold a small lunch party on 2nd June. Their guests could watch the Coronation ceremony on the black and white screen whilst helping themselves to a buffet that Dudley was going to set up at one end of the large drawing room before Juliet and Daniel went out to the Coronation Ball that evening. ‘It’ll be like our own little private cinema,’ Juliet said in delight, as she requested more chairs to be arranged in front of the screen. ‘We’ll see everything this way, because they’ve placed hundreds of television cameras all over the place.’ Then she paused, remembering. ‘My God, how technology has advanced since the last Coronation! Rosie and I went with Nanny to see the King and Queen come out on the Palace balcony. We had to go to the cinema to watch Pathé News to see the actual event on film.’
‘Who are you inviting to this extravaganza?’ Daniel teased curiously.
‘Sara, Susan and Leo, of course,’ she told him sweetly. ‘They might like to stay with us for a few days, so you can show them all the decorations.’
Daniel smiled, grateful for the way she always made his children welcome. ‘I don’t think they’ve ever seen television.’
‘I thought we’d also have Louise, Shane, Rupert and Daisy. I’ll invite Amanda but it’s not exactly her thing. Charlotte might like to come, though my mother may have other plans for her.’
He paused, looking at Juliet questioningly. ‘What about Rosie? And your mother, too, for that matter?’
Juliet’s expression hardened. ‘I haven’t talked to either of them for months and I don’t intend to start now. That last time was the final straw.’
She’d been unable to rid herself of the memory of their last day at Hartley, before Liza moved out. Large removal vans were parked outside, while Mrs Dobbs and Warwick, now both elderly, watched the proceedings through tear-blurred eyes. Then Candida had arrived, towing a horse box in which to put Lady Anne’s personal belongings from her bedroom and sitting room. As soon as she’d seen her mother’s two old retainers, she immediately offered them jobs at her own house, their sole duty being to attend to Lady Anne’s needs.
‘You can live in very nice quarters in a converted barn, next to the main house,’ Candida told them, pretending not to notice the tears pouring down their weathered cheeks. ‘It’ll be a godsend for Mother to have her own people to look after her,’ she added cheerfully.
‘Thank you, madam,’ Warwick blurted out. ‘Mrs Granville didn’t want our services any more, and me and Betty were wondering what was to become of us.’
‘Good heavens, Warwick,’ Camilla said ebulliently, ‘I was only fifteen when you came to work for Mother; you’re both part of the family now. Pack your bags, and you can both come in the car with me this evening.’
‘That’s what I call a real lady,’ Warwick murmured, as Candida stormed off to have words with her sister-in-law.
If it hadn’t been for the concerted efforts of Candida, together with Juliet, Louise, and even Amanda, Liza would have whipped all the most valuable stuff up to her new house in London, and allowed the rest to be thrown out, or sent to the local auction house.
‘It’s scandalous,’ Amanda had growled, when faced with the two thousand books in Henry’s precious library which Liza had said ‘could be left for whoever wants them. Books gather dust.’
Liza’s other constant cry was ‘Well, I don’t want it,’ whenever one of her daughters asked what was happening to such and such an item. With ruthless thoroughness she selected for herself exactly what she did want; the Louis XV beech wood chairs, the Louis XVI gilded chairs, the gilt ormolu mounted writing tables, the nineteenth century Aubusson and Savonnerie styled tapestry carpets, the eighteenth century dining table and chairs, paintings by Munnings, Boudin and Millais, and a score of other artists, as well as all the china, glass and silver.
Juliet looked with longing at her father’s desk and his tilting captain’s chair in which he always sat when he was writing letters. ‘Does anyone want these?’ she asked in a small voice.
‘Well, I don’t,’ Liza and Rosie said in unison.
‘You have them,’ Louise said softly. ‘He’d have liked that.’
Candida, who’d already tackled Liza over her treatment of Mrs Dobbs and Warwick, having told her, ‘Most people treat their dogs better than you treat the servants!’ now rounded on her not caring deeply enough about Henry’s personal possessions, like his books, his silver ink-well, and the framed photographs of his late father and Lady Anne, which always stood on his desk.
‘Liza, I think the girls should have first choice of everything, from what after all was their home. You’re doing them out of Henry’s legacy.’
Liza turned an ugly shade of red. ‘You seem to forget Henry left everything to me.’
‘Only because he thought he was going to die in the trenches, my dear,’ Candida retorted scathingly. ‘Believe me, your treacherous behaviour must be causing Henry to spin like a top in his grave. He’d be utterly ashamed of you.’
‘I won’t have you talking to me like that in my own house!’ Liza flared.
‘You mean in Capital Assets’ house,’ Candida countered swiftly. ‘All this has nearly killed Mother. It’s been the last straw after Henry’s death.’ Her shoulders sagged, in keeping with her large sagging body, yet she was still supremely dignified and regal. ‘All Mother had to look forward to was returning here to watch her garden come alive again in the spring, instead of which it’s about to be turned into a building site,’ she added bitingly.
Rosie burst loudly into tears, like a child. ‘You’re making it worse by talking like that, Candida,’ she wept. ‘And stop having a go at Mummy. She wasn’t happy here, and she deserves a little happiness, now.’
‘Judging by the size of the removal vans she’s ordered, she’s helping herself to quite a lot of happiness,’ Candida scorned, ‘but don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Rosie. Your Mummy will see that you’re all right.’
Amanda dragged Juliet away from the ugly scene that had developed. She spoke earnestly. ‘Listen, I wouldn’t mind having some of Dad’s books, but I’ve nowhere to put them right now. I’m getting myself a job and a flat when I leave Oxford, but could you look after some of them for me in the meantime?’ Her eyes, blinking behind her glasses, were red rimmed and she looked washed out and miserable because she was suffering from conflicting emotions. She’d loved her father in particular because he’d encouraged her to be ‘different’ and go to university, and she’d loved Hartley, although her political views were that no one family should indulge in such opulence, but now she’d lost him she felt as if her life had gone adrift.
Being careful not to sound sympathetic because she knew Amanda would hate that, Juliet said briskly, ‘Why don’t I take all the books and the furniture from the library, and look after them for the time being? Then as soon as you’ve got a flat, come and help yourself to whatever you want.’
Amanda looked relieved. ‘Thanks a lot,’ she said gruffly, before turning swiftly away.
In the end, Juliet, Louise and Amanda shared what was left in the house, because Charlotte said she didn’t know what she wanted, and Rosie said nothing because she knew her mother would let her eventually have everything she wanted, anyway.
As Juliet drove away at the end of the long painful day, she turned to have a last look at Hartley. The empty house seemed to stare back at her sadly, its windows lifeless and dead, its silence haunting, as if it was reproaching them all for leaving.
All their lives Hartley had given them warmth and shelter, comfort and consolation, it had been a haven of peace and understanding, and now they were abandoning it into the greedy hands of a property developer. The very heart of Hartley was being ripped out and plundered and with it, it seemed, the heart of the Granville family. Relationships had been destroyed beyond repair, and without Henry and without Hartley, life would never be the same again, Juliet realized, as she let off the handbrake and pulled away up the long winding drive, for the last time.
‘It was a really dreadful day, and I wish you’d been with me,’ Juliet told Daniel.
‘It happened months ago, darling. Try to forget about it. Your grandmother has settled in very well with Candida, especially as she’s got Mrs Dodds and Warwick with her.’ He held her close, kissing her lightly on the tip of her nose. ‘As for your mother, well, what can I say?’
Juliet nodded. ‘There’s nothing to say. I just hope, after all the mayhem she’s caused, that she’s happy. From what I hear, Rosie adores living in one of the grandest houses in Cadogan Square, but then she would, wouldn’t she? She’s got nothing on her conscience except siding with Mama. It’s the same with Charlotte. But if I was my mother, I don’t think I’d be able to sleep.’
Cecil Beaton had decorated the Savoy with his usual flamboyant style for the Coronation Ball, and the guest of honour was Sir Winston Churchill. All those who hadn’t been invited to the Abbey, spent the day in anticipation of the evening’s revelry. Three thousand bottles of champagne had been put on ice in readiness for the celebration and it was expected to go on until the early hours.
Juliet, wearing a midnight blue chiffon evening dress by Victor Stiebel, which was draped and moulded to her body, added a diamond and sapphire tiara and earrings, and a diamond brooch shaped like a lovers’ knot on the shoulder of her gown.
Daniel took in a sharp breath when he saw her. Juliet’s allure never failed to astonish him, even after all these years. He was instantly reminded of their first night in Paris, when she’d been seventeen and she’d been afraid yet at the same time was longing for him to seduce her.
‘You look marvellous,’ he said, his rich deep voice croaking. ‘I wish we were staying at home now.’
‘Darling.’ She came up to him and laid her hand on the shoulder of his tail coat. ‘You look marvellous, too. I want to dance all night with you.’
He leaned forward, his mouth to her ear. ‘You’ll do more than that before the dawn breaks,’ he whispered.
When they arrived they were surrounded by friends, including many people who’d been Henry’s friends. Lady Diana Cooper, still a renowned beauty, took Juliet’s hand.
‘I’m appalled that Hartley Hall has been sold,’ she whispered discreetly. ‘What was your mother thinking of?’
Juliet was aware that the gossips had been hard at work for the past year, shocked by what had happened. ‘It’s very sad,’ she agreed. ‘If only Daddy had made a more recent will I’m sure things would have been different.’
‘That’s what is so strange.’ Lady Diana’s blue eyes looked searchingly into Juliet’s face. ‘Henry was so organized. It was so unlike him not to make sure his affairs were in order.’
The Rothchilds came up to Juliet and Daniel next, and then the Duchess of Argyll, who’d been in the Abbey. Then they spotted Chips Channon, who’d been a frequent guest before the war when Henry and Liza had entertained lavishly in Green Street.
More friends came to cluster round Juliet, who seemed to be at the peak of her beauty and radiance that night.
‘There’s a woman who’s succeeded in getting everything she wants,’ said Chips Channon, glancing over at her. As always, many men were attracted to her, fetching her glasses of champagne and asking her to dance, but Juliet moved slowly, never more than a few yards from Daniel, refusing to dance until later. After a while, she and Daniel took to the floor, moving as one as they swayed to the music. It was obvious to all who saw them that they were still in love and could never have enough of each other and that her smile was that of a woman utterly fulfilled and happy.
‘Unlike her mother,’ Chips naughtily pointed out, watching as Liza made several circuits of the ballroom, trying to find someone to talk to.
She’d earlier been heard to complain bitterly that Norman Hartnell ‘had been too busy to make her a ball gown for the night because he’d been so wrapped up in making the Queen’s coronation robes’. Her words were repeated amongst the guests amid gales of scornful laughter, until someone exclaimed, ‘Who does she think she is?’
‘All Henry’s friends have shunned her since she sold Hartley Hall,’ Chips continued with a wicked glint in his eyes. ‘And now she’s living in this great town house with two of her daughters, and I hear she’s pushed to scrape together eight people for a dinner party.’
During the evening Juliet became aware of Liza, overdressed in a gold lamé Grecian style evening dress, wearing more jewels than the new Queen, as she walked around looking lost, until she finally decided to sit down in a corner with several elderly widows where she was less conspicuous.
‘Pigeons coming home to roost,’ Juliet observed, realizing with fresh shock that in the past it had been her father’s friends rather than her mother’s, who had frequented their house, and that by selling Hartley she’d betrayed him and all he’d stood for and his friends knew this.
‘Do you want to go and talk to her?’ Daniel asked, reading her thoughts. He had little use for Liza himself, having always thought of her as a snobbish parvenue, but he couldn’t help feeling sorry for her now.
‘She’s brought it all upon herself. There are a hundred things she could have done to make herself happy, even without Dads, but selling Hartley wasn’t one of them,’ Juliet said regretfully. ‘She’ll just have to get herself some new friends, and I’m sure Rosie will help with all her new social contacts.’
The glorious night was almost over, the revellers began to drift off.
‘What a day to remember,’ Daniel said as they left the Savoy. They both looked up at the sky which was clear of clouds after a long and rainy day. ‘Poor Queen; I hope the weather didn’t spoil her day.’
‘I don’t suppose it did,’ Juliet said, smiling, as they climbed into their car. ‘Like me, she has a wonderful husband by her side, and that’s the most important thing of all.’
Rosie let herself into the Cadogan Square house, having been dropped off by a group of young people who were wildly impressed to have met the social columnist of Society. The hall light was still on, and she was just about to go upstairs to bed when she heard a noise in the enormous drawing room, which the previous owners had used as a ballroom.
Peering round the massive mahogany door, she saw the soft glow of a silk-shaded table lamp illuminating one of the dark corners. Feeling as if she were entering the stage set of a grand opera, Rosie walked towards the lamp, her feet soundless on the thick carpeting.
‘Mummy…?’ she exclaimed with shock, as she saw a huddled figure draped in gold lamé, on one of the sofas. ‘Mummy? What’s the matter?’
Liza gave a ragged sob. ‘I wish I was dead. It was the worst evening of my life.’
Rosie turned on some more lights, and saw her mother’s face was blotchy from crying, and her mascara was streaked under her eyes. Her dress was crumpled, and her jewellery had been flung on the floor, like discarded Christmas decorations. ‘What’s going on?’ Rosie asked, concerned.
‘Nobody would talk to me,’ Liza wept bitterly. ‘All our old friends were there. People we’d known for years. People we used to have to dinner. They all snubbed me, or cut me dead. Can you imagine how I felt? Even Chips Channon was curt. And Juliet didn’t come near me the whole evening, because she was too busy having a good time.’
‘Oh, Mummy…’ Rosie sank down onto the sofa beside Liza, and put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Did you go alone? Didn’t you take anyone with you?’
Liza raised her wrecked face. ‘Who could I take? I wouldn’t want to go with another woman, and how can I take a man, so soon after your father’s death?’
Rosie could see her mother’s predicament. It was all right for her to go to parties without an escort, because she was young and attractive, and it was her job. She smiled to herself as she remembered the driver of the car who’d just dropped her off. He’d taken quite a liking to her, but so did most young men these days. It was different for her mother. She was dreadfully old; fifty-eight, nearly fifty-nine.
‘It was very brave of you to go on your own,’ Rosie told her soothingly. ‘Perhaps, in future, you should go with a group of friends.’
‘Don’t you understand?’ Liza demanded, rattled. ‘I don’t have any friends now your father’s dead. No one wants me! I’m all alone and I don’t think I can bear it.’
‘You’ve got Charlotte and me.’ Rosie paused, as if she’d just had an idea. ‘Why don’t we give a drinks party?’
‘Who would we invite?’ Her mother’s voice was edged with panic.
‘In my address book I’ve so far got about three hundred names of people I’ve met in the past few months. People of all ages,’ she added, quickly. ‘They’re not all top drawer, few even have titles, but they’re fun and interesting and I think it’s time we sought pastures new.’
‘Not top drawer?’
‘Not top drawer,’ Rosie echoed. ‘But does it matter? All our marital forays into the titled nobility have been pretty disastrous. Look at Charlie? What did I get out of him, apart from a title? Look at Cameron Kincardine?’
‘He was at the ball tonight, with a new wife. I saw Juliet talking to him. Such a pity he turned out to be – queer!’
‘Then there was Philibert… he may have been a Baron, but where did that get me?’ Rosie continued. ‘He broke my heart, just like Alastair Slaidburn who loved me until Juliet stole him from me. I ask you, from now on I’m going for Mr Smith or Mr Brown, and as long as he’s got some money, he’ll do for me.’
Liza sat in silence gazing into the gloomy shadows of the room she’d planned as a setting when she entertained the beau monde. Silver grey watered silk curtains framed the large windows, the Aubusson tapestry from Hartley hung on one wall, and a plethora of Louis XVI chairs and little tables holding objets d’art were skilfully arranged into ‘conversation areas’. A titled lady who had fallen upon hard times came to arrange flowers twice a week, and a Spanish couple, Salvador and Josephine, acted as butler and housekeeper. It was all very different from the formal days of Green Street when Mrs Fowler had ruled supreme in the kitchen, and Parsons had run the whole household with military precision. This foreign couple didn’t even understand half of what she said, and Salvador insisted on wearing a white jacket to open the front door, making him look like a third-rate dentist.
But where were the friends she thought she had? What about the glittering dinner parties she’d planned? This house was supposed to have been a setting, from which she could relaunch herself into society, but the whole thing had fallen as flat as a deflated soufflé.
Rosie was also gazing into the shadowy room, which lacked vitality and resembled a room setting in Harrods’ furniture department.
She’d expected to be living with Philibert in her own villa in Monte Carlo by now, where the sun was hot and the nights were balmy, where the restaurants served fantastic food and the shops stocked fashionable clothes. She’d also thought she’d be a Baroness, spending weekends on smart yachts, and bringing her children out to stay during the school holidays. Most of all, she’d expected to be made love to every night for the rest of her life.
All gone. Dreams turned to dust. She and her mother, in reality, were two disappointed women, who’d had such high hopes, but whose fantasies had come crashing down. Rosie blinked away her tears.
‘I’ll draw up a list and send out cards tomorrow,’ she said bravely. ‘Let’s not make the party too grand, because it could frighten away some of the people I know. Let’s just have a “jolly” and see what happens.’
‘And don’t let’s have any of the family except Charlotte, that is if she’s not busy, as usual,’ Liza requested.
We’re not talking to the rest of the family, anyway, Rosie reflected, as she made her way up to bed. She’d sided with her mother, and now she was wondering if she’d done the right thing.