“Oh, Traudi, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud,” Marina said.

“I do not look like a stick,” Irmtraut replied. “You are rude.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Marina started to say but Irmtraut had risen to her feet and stalked from the room.

Marina looked at me. “Oh dear. I’m afraid I offended her. I don’t really know why she insisted on coming. She’s not having a good time.”

“She’s annoyed that the queen asked me to be your companion. She feels put out,” I said. “And there was nothing I could do about it because one does not say no to the queen.”

“Of course not.” She covered my hand with hers. “Dear Georgie. I’m so glad you’re here. You must come and stay with us if your sister-in-law doesn’t want you.”

“Thank you.”

As I came out through the door I detected a movement at the top of the stairs. Irmtraut had been standing there, listening to our conversation.

Chapter 30

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 11

Cocktails with Noel Coward. What could be more glamorous?

The motorcar came for us at six and whisked us to the house in Chelsea. We were among the first to arrive but were introduced to Noel’s actress friend Gertrude Lawrence and to a couple of fellow writers and society matron Mrs. Astley-Cooper.

“You’ve come without your bridegroom, I see,” she said and got a warning look from Noel. “Very wise. So many women think that they are only allowed out as an appendage to their spouse once they marry. Make sure you have your own life and your own friends.”

“Who is talking about appendages?” one of the young men asked.

“Naughty, naughty, Hugo, my boy. Respectable young women present,” Noel said, slapping his hand.

I looked at the man with interest. Hugo was not a very common name and one of the letters in Bobo’s safe had been signed by him. A love letter to another man called Gerald. So Hugo was presumably another of those being blackmailed. I looked around the room. Was Gerald also here?

More and more people arrived, some that I recognized from their photographs in the picture papers. Cocktails were poured. Canapés were served. Noel sat at the piano and entertained. He was awfully witty, terribly risqué, and I was glad that Irmtraut had decided not to come. Either she wouldn’t have understood his wicked innuendoes or she would have been mortally offended by them. Marina, however, laughed with the rest of us.

“I think she’ll do nicely for George, don’t you?” I heard one of the men saying in a low voice.

“Ah, but will she take him out of circulation? That’s the question.”

Noel was singing another song, one he had just made up, according to him. “It’s a bit risqué, what do you think?” he asked. “Dare I try it on audiences? Is the London theater ready for it?”