An hour later Mummy and I were speeding through the Kentish lanes on our way to London. Queenie and my trunk had been crammed into the estate car with much grumbling from her. What if she fell asleep and missed the station? What if a strange man got into her compartment and accosted her? And how would she manage all that luggage? I pointed out that the train terminated at Victoria and she should select a Ladies Only carriage. When she arrived all she had to do was summon a porter who would take her to a taxi. When last seen she was heading to the nearest station and one hoped that she would eventually wind up at Brown’s Hotel.

“So what on earth were you doing with those awful dreary old women?” Mummy asked as we drove through the impressive gateway and out onto a country lane.

“Keeping the dowager duchess company. She’s had an upsetting time, you know. You probably didn’t hear about it in Germany.”

“Oh, I think I did hear something about it, now that you mention it. Something to do with the heir, wasn’t it?”

“It was. All rather horrible, actually.”

“Well, in that case I’m glad I’m whisking you away. We’ll have much more fun where we’re going.”

“Where are we going, exactly? And why are you taking me along?”

“That’s obvious, darling. I didn’t want to travel alone. A woman feels so vulnerable and those Americans can be wild and dangerous.”

Nobody in the world could take care of herself better than my mother. She might look frail and diminutive but she came from good Cockney stock and was as tough as old boots. She had been a leading lady on the stage when she had met and married my father, who was Queen Victoria’s grandson, but she chose to forget those humble beginnings. She had actually enjoyed being a duchess and probably would have remained one longer if living at Castle Rannoch had not been part of the bargain. I looked at her face. She was now playing the part of a weak and helpless female—playing it really convincingly, as always. I had to laugh. “There aren’t any cowboys and Indians any longer, you know.”

“But plenty of gangsters,” she said. “Al Capone, you know. I thought you’d be pleased and want to spend time with your mother.”

“I am. I do,” I said. “It’s just that it’s rather sudden. When last seen you abandoned me to that awful woman’s cooking in London and went off with Max to Lake Lugano. Have you finally broken up with him?”

“Au contraire, darling,” she said. “Max is insisting that he wants to do the right thing and get married. He’s quite a puritan at heart.”

“But don’t I remember correctly that you are still married to someone else?”