‘It’s probably after being with Leon,’ he sighed. ‘He really is tormented about his sexuality and I guess it’s washed off on me.’
‘Well that’s his problem, not yours. And to be honest with you, I don’t think it would have worked with you two if he was keeping his relationship with you a secret. It would have caused huge problems for you.’
‘I was hoping he would have felt brave enough to come out eventually, if we were together.’
‘Umm . . .’ Hilary was skeptical.
‘Maybe you’re right but it doesn’t make it any easier. I feel ugly and unlovable and unattractive and that’s Leon’s legacy to me,’ Jonathan said dourly.
‘Jonathan Harpur, don’t you ever let me hear you saying anything like that again, and don’t you dare start feeling sorry for yourself. He’s the loser, not you, now stop it!’ Hilary ordered as the girls caught up with them.
‘Mum, could we go and see where Princess Diana lived? It looks so pretty from our hotel window,’ Sophie asked. ‘We don’t really want to go to art galleries and theatres.’
‘I hate abstract art, Mum, I hate all those angles and distorted faces and bodies, they do my head in.’ Millie made a face. ‘I just don’t like Picasso and Dali and Bacon. I much prefer the Impressionists.’
‘There are some Monets and Turners too,’ Hilary pointed out.
‘Mum, I don’t like those squiggly weird sort of paintings either,’ Sophie grimaced.
‘Jonathan and I might like to see them. He’s an interior designer, don’t forget. He draws inspiration from paintings. A bit of culture is good for you,’ her mother pointed out.
‘Oh!’ Sophie was crestfallen. ‘OK.’
‘Nah, let’s go visit the Palace. It was Princess Victoria’s home until she became Queen at the age of eighteen. We can have a cultural history lesson.’ Jonathan winked at Sophie. ‘There’s a gorgeous garden, and a restaurant called the Orangery. It’s so fine today we could have lunch outside on the terrace if you like,’ he suggested affably.
‘Oh cool,’ enthused Millie. ‘I love being a tourist and eating outside.’
‘A tourist you will be, then,’ Jonathan said. ‘Let’s get a black cab.’
‘This is a really wide river. I remember being in London when I was small once and we went to Madame Tussaud’s,’ Sophie remarked as the taxi crossed Blackfriars Bridge and turned left along the Embankment.
‘That was a long time ago. You and Jazzy were only toddlers,’ Hilary smiled.
‘Sometime I’d like to do a river tour past Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament – I love those buildings.’ Millie stared out at the ships and barges moored along the riverbank.
‘We’ll come back for a longer stay another time,’ Hilary promised. ‘Don’t forget this was a spur of the moment trip.’
‘Well I’m having fun,’ Sophie said happily, exceedingly relieved to have got out of visiting Tate Modern.
Jonathan stared out of the car window experiencing a sense of déjà vu, as for the second time in twenty-four hours he sat in the back of a taxi, driving down the Mall and around by Buckingham Palace, and wished with all his heart that Leon was by his side sharing the delights of the city with him. Don’t think about it now. Enjoy your time with the girls, he told himself as they motored past Hyde Park towards Kensington Palace.
The afternoon flew by. After a tasty lunch in Queen Anne’s delightful Orangery, they sipped their coffee served in exquisite china cups and looked out over the immaculately maintained gardens. They took photos for Margaret, particularly of the Sunken Garden, Hilary marvelling at the lavish regimental displays of tulips, wallflowers and pansies. They spent three hours exploring the magnificent state rooms and gallery of the impressive palace, listening to the guided tour through their headphones. Jonathan, setting his woes aside, was as engrossed as the others.
‘That was a very, very interesting afternoon. Thanks so much for bringing us,’ Sophie said as they stood at the bank of lifts in the foyer of the hotel waiting to go to their rooms to shower and change for dinner. They had decided to eat in the tenth-floor restaurant, with its spectacular views over London; starting with pre-dinner drinks in the adjoining bar. That evening, dressed to the nines, they sat sipping their cocktails, watching the sun begin to set, silhouetting the Palace and Gardens against the sky. It was an eyecatching tapestry of peach and gold, as dusk began to deepen and the lights of the city to sparkle in the night sky. The London Eye, to the south, dominated the skyline once the city lights came fully into their glory and they reminisced about their morning on the South Bank. After a while they moved to their window table in the restaurant and ordered their meal, enjoying the soothing ambience, low lights and soft music while the waiters glided between tables, discreet and watchful of their every need. Millie and Sophie bantered back and forth across the table as they ate the delicious food that was perfectly cooked and presented and all of them agreed it had been a spectacular meal as they managed to finish the lightest chocolate mousse and French silk pie between them.
‘You and the girls have been balm to my spirit,’ Jonathan said gratefully as he sprawled in one of the chairs in Hilary’s room, having a nightcap after Millie and Sophie had gone to bed. Hilary had undressed and changed into her towelling robe and slippers and was cleansing her face, sitting on the side of her big double bed.
‘Are you sure you won’t get a flight home with us tomorrow? You don’t really want to fly Ryanair and meet Leon, do you?’ She turned round to face him.
‘No to Ryanair and Leon. And believe me I’ve given this some thought,’
