‘Didn’t you say Bunny had interests in Borneo?’
Philip had been tinkering with the camera and now held two rods in his hand that looked rather important. He tried to fit them back in as he spoke. ‘Yes, huge ones. Teak and rubber. How d’you think he can afford to keep that shoot going? Why?’
‘No particular reason. I wonder what the society will do now there’s no empire. He wasn’t thinking of changing it to the Commonwealth Society, was he?’
‘God, no! He thinks we backed down. Shouldn’t be giving places like Malaya their independence.’
‘He doesn’t appreciate the peaceful handover of power?’ the Queen asked.
‘Absolutely not! Robbie Suffolk called us bloody cowards.’
‘They never said anything to me.’
‘They wouldn’t, Lilibet. You’re the Queen. They want to be invited to the next coronation. Right, are you ready? I’ve got the lens back on. Let’s try again.’
Chapter 53
When Sir Hugh told her that the foreign secretary and the new director general of MI5 were seeking an urgent audience with her, the Queen was ready.
‘This has nothing to do with the, er, events at Cresswell Place, ma’am,’ the private secretary assured her. ‘It’s another matter entirely.’
‘Is it? How interesting.’
‘I must warn you, what they have to say is rather disturbing.’
‘So, you’ve spoken to the DG about it already, Hugh?’
‘I have, ma’am. And the foreign secretary and the PM have been briefed too. We’ve needed to put certain measures in place in the Private Office. But I can assure you, we have everything under control.’
They met on the 5 October, a week before the Queen and Prince Philip were due to fly to Canada. Palace luggage rooms were filling up with bags and boxes. Last-minute telephone conversations were winging backwards and forwards across the Atlantic. The atmosphere was rather fraught. But the Queen herself was calm. She had done this before. And now she didn’t have to shoulder the burden of a conspiracy of fools all by herself.
She held the audience in her blue sitting room between a meeting with the head of the armed forces and a delegation from the Women’s Institute.
For once, she was not the only un-moustached person in the room. Both the foreign secretary and the director general of MI5 were bare-lipped. The Queen thought to herself that times were changing as she made them comfortable and deftly prevented Susan, her favourite corgi, from nipping at the foreign secretary’s ankles. When the dogs and men were settled, she asked what the news was.
The DG spoke first.
‘There’s good news and bad news, ma’am. The good news is that we’re in full control of the situation. Our director, D Branch, Major Ross, has played a bit of a blinder.’
‘How wonderful!’
‘He’s been pulling together information from various sources. It’s very troubling, and I might say, quite shocking, but I’m afraid to have to tell you . . . this is the bad news . . . that there has been a conspiracy against you at the highest level. Why exactly that might be, we’re still not sure yet, but there’s no doubt that these individuals mean you harm.’
‘Can you tell me who they are?’ the Queen asked, making sure to look suitably alarmed at the idea, rather than relieved that someone else was taking care of it.
‘The ringleader is the Duke of Maidstone, ma’am. With the support of Tony Radnor-Milne.’ The DG looked very grave. ‘His brother’s been working as a double agent in your Private Office.’
‘And how did Major Ross discover this?’ she asked.
The foreign secretary smiled and cast an eye in Sir Hugh’s direction. ‘You have a guardian angel, ma’am. Somebody who doesn’t want to be recognised, remaining in the shadows, looking after your best interests.’
‘You have no idea who it is?’
Another glance towards Sir Hugh, who remained impassive.
‘No, ma’am. But I’m afraid there’s one more thing.’ The foreign secretary looked grave too. ‘Your uncle, the Duke of Windsor, is involved. I realise that must be a particular shock.’
Not really, the Queen thought. She was silent for a while.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said eventually. ‘Or rather, it occurs to me, now you’ve told me about it, that Maidstone and Radnor-Milne both have trading interests in our Commonwealth countries. The duke runs the Empire Society – d’you know it?’
They all nodded, although she strongly suspected only Sir Hugh had heard of it.
‘It’s an antiquated celebration of our colonial past,’ she went on. ‘I suppose if we tighten our friendship with America and Europe, as the prime minister wants us to, they might feel slightly threatened.’
‘Threatened?’ the foreign secretary asked.
‘The old trading routes are changing. I don’t know how well that suits them.’
He brightened. ‘I see what you mean, ma’am.’
‘It’s quite a closed little club,’ the Queen added. ‘Not secret, but exclusive. The Marquess of Suffolk is a member, and the head of the East India Bank. I think there are about a dozen of them. My uncle may share their views more closely than I do.’
The director general smiled reassuringly. ‘I doubt we need to worry about them, ma’am. But we have eyes on Radnor-Milne, and Maidstone, and your uncle, too. As soon as we have firm proof of what they’re up to, we’ll step in. You may wonder why we haven’t done so already.’
‘Not really.’
‘It may seem unnerving,’ he breezed on, ‘but if we were to pounce now, we’d only drive them underground and the situation might become more dangerous. It’s better to let them think they’re safe.’
‘I see that.’
‘I know you must be alarmed to think of someone in your own Private Office acting against you, but rest assured that no move he makes will go unnoticed by Sir Hugh. If he tries to do anything—’
‘I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen,’ Sir Hugh cut in.
The Queen gave up trying to point out that this concept wasn’t new to her.
‘I’m glad you’ve thought about it so carefully,’ she said. ‘I take it you have no idea what they might be planning?’
‘Not yet, ma’am. But after yesterday’s events, your trip to America is more pressing than ever.’
‘Yesterday’s events?’
‘The Russian launch of a satellite, ma’am. Called Sputnik.’
‘Ah yes, I heard about that. My husband was very excited. They’ve successfully launched a transmitter into space. He was looking for it with his telescope.’
The foreign secretary leaned forward with an anxious look. ‘It’s all very well, ma’am. The trouble is, the Americans have realised it’s much bigger than they thought. A more impressive object all round. And their own launch isn’t for a few weeks, and will be smaller. We mustn’t let the Russians get ahead, ma’am. We must all pull together. Sometimes the Americans forget how much expertise we have to give . . . How much we’ve given them already . . .’
‘You think they need a little reminder, Foreign Secretary,’ the Queen said, raising an eyebrow.
‘If you wouldn’t mind, ma’am. Of course, Lord Seymour will try and do his bit too . . .’
‘Stephen Seymour?’ she checked. ‘That’s very surprising. Is he still going on this trip? He hasn’t been excluded from the murder investigation, has he?’