The week after Daphne arrived back in England she invited us both to dinner at her new home in Eaton Square. I couldn't wait to hear all her news, knowing that she would be impressed to learn that we now owned nine shops, a new home in Gilston Road and at any moment would be adding a block of flats to the Trumper portfolio. However, I knew the question she would ask me as soon as I walked in their front door, so I had my reply ready—"It will take me about another ten years before I own the entire block—as long as you can guarantee no floods, pestilence or the outbreak of war."
Just before Becky and I set out for our reunion dinner an envelope was dropped through the letter box of 11 Gilston Road.
Even as it lay on the mat I could recognize the bold hand. I ripped it open and began to read the colonel's words. When I had finished the letter I suddenly felt sick and could only wonder why he should want to resign.
Chapter 20
Charlie stood alone in the hall and decided not to mention the colonel's letter to Becky until after they had returned from their dinner with Daphne. Becky had been looking forward to the occasion for such a long time that he feared the colonel's unexplained resignation could only put a blight on the rest of the evening.
"You all right, darling?" asked Becky when she reached the bottom of the stairs. "You look a bit pale."
"I'm just fine," said Charlie, nervously tucking the letter into an inside pocket. "Come on or we'll be late, and that would never do." Charlie looked at his wife and noticed that she was wearing the pink dress with a massive bow on the front. He remembered helping her choose it. "You look ravishing," he told her. "That gown will make Daphne green with envy."
"You don't look so bad yourself."
"When I put on one of these penguin suits I always feel like the head waiter of the Ritz," admitted Charlie as Becky straightened his white tie.
"How could you possibly know when you've never been to the Ritz?" she said, laughing.
"At least the outfit came from my own shop this time," Charlie replied as he opened the front door for his wife.
"Ah, but have you paid the bill yet?"
As they drove over to Eaton Square Charlie found it difficult to concentrate on his wife's chatty conversation while he tried to fathom why the colonel could possibly want to resign just at the point when everything was going so well.
"So how do you feel I should go about it?" asked Becky.
"Whichever way you think best," began Charlie.
"You haven't been listening to a word I've said since we left the house, Charlie Trumper. And to think we've been married for less than two years."
"Sorry," said Charlie, as he parked his little Austin Seven behind the Silver Ghost that stood directly in front of 14 Eaton Square. "Wouldn't mind living here," Charlie added, as he opened the car door for his wife.
"Not quite yet," suggested Becky.
"Why not?"
"I've a feeling that Mr. Hadlow might not feel able to sanction the necessary loan."
A butler opened the door for them even before they had reached the top step. "Wouldn't mind one of those either," said Charlie.
"Behave yourself," said Becky.
"Of course," he said. "I must remember my place."
The butler ushered them through to the drawing room where they found Daphne sipping a dry martini.
"Darlings," she said. Becky ran forward and threw her arms around her and they bumped into each other.
"Why didn't you tell me?" said Becky.
"My little secret." Daphne patted her stomach. "Still, you seem to be well ahead of me, as usual."
"Not by that much," said Becky. "So when's yours due?"
"Dr. Gould is predicting some time in January. Clarence if it's a boy, Clarissa if it's a girl."
Her guests both laughed.
"Don't you two dare snigger. Those are the names of Percy's most distinguished ancestors," she told them, just as her husband entered the room.
"True, by Jove," said Percy, "though I'm damned if I can remember what they actually did."
"Welcome home," said Charlie, shaking him by the hand.
"Thank you, Charlie," said Percy, who then kissed Becky on both cheeks. "I don't mind telling you I'm damned pleased to see you again." A servant handed him a whisky and soda. "Now, Becky, tell me everything you've been up to and don't spare me any details."
They sat down together on the sofa as Daphne joined Charlie, who was slowly circling the room studying the large portraits that hung on every wall.
"Percy's ancestors," said Daphne. "All painted by second-rate artists. I'd swap the lot of them for that picture of the Virgin Mary you have in your drawing room."
"Not this one, you wouldn't," said Charlie, as he stopped in front of the second Marquess of Wiltshire.
"Ah, yes, the Holbein," said Daphne. "You're right. But since then I'm afraid it's been downhill all the way."
"I wouldn't begin to know, m'lady," said Charlie with a grin. "You see, my ancestors didn't go a bundle on portraits. Come to think of it, I don't suppose Holbein was commissioned by that many costermongers from the East End."
Daphne laughed. "That reminds me, Charlie, what's happened to your cockney accent?"
"What was you 'oping for, Marchioness, a pound of tomatoes and 'alf a grapefruit, or just a night on the razzle?"
"That's more like it. Mustn't let a few night classes go to our head."
"Shhh," said Charlie, looking over to his wife, who was seated on the sofa. "Becky still doesn't know and I'm not saying anything until—"
"I understand," said Daphne. "And I promise you that she won't hear a thing from me. I haven't even told Percy." She glanced towards Becky, who was still deep in conversation with her husband. "By the way, how long before . . . ?"
"Ten years would be my guess," said Charlie, delivering his prepared answer.
"Oh, I thought that these things usually took about nine months," said Daphne. "Unless of course you're an elephant."
Charlie smiled, realizing his mistake. "Another two months would be my guess. Tommy if it's a boy and Debbie if it's a girl. So with a bit of luck whatever Becky delivers let's hope turns out to be the ideal partner for Clarence or Clarissa."
"A nice idea but the way the world is going at the moment," said Daphne, "I wouldn't be surprised if mine ended up as your sales assistant."
Despite Daphne bombarding him with questions Charlie still couldn't take his eyes off the Holbein. Eventually Daphne bribed him away by saying, "Come on, Charlie, let's go and have something to eat. I always seem to be famished nowadays."
Percy and Becky stood up and followed Daphne and Charlie towards the dining room.
Daphne led her guests down a long corridor and through into another room that was exactly the same size and proportion as the one they had just left. The six full-length canvases that hung from the walls were all by Reynolds. "And this time only the ugly one is a relation," Percy assured them as he took his place at one end of the table and gestured to a long gray figure of a lady that hung on the wall behind him. "And she would have found it exceedingly difficult to land a Wiltshire had she not been accompanied by an extremely handsome dowry."
They took their places at a table that had been laid for four but would have comfortably seated eight, and proceeded to eat a four-course dinner that could have happily fed sixteen. Liveried footmen stood behind each chair to ensure the slightest need was administered to. "Every good home should have one," whispered Charlie across the table to his wife.
The conversation over dinner gave the four of them a chance to catch up with everything that had taken place during the past year. By the time a second coffee had been poured Daphne and Becky left the two men to enjoy a cigar and Charlie couldn't help thinking that it was as if the Wiltshires had never been away in the first place.