Her Name Was Lola

75 Thank You, God!

November 2001. Still that same morning. ‘Hello,’ says Max as he picks up the phone. ‘Is Lola with you?’ says Lady Bessington.

‘No,’ says Max. ‘A couple of weeks ago I looked out of my bedroom window and saw her but by the time I got downstairs she’d gone.’

‘I’m worried about her,’ says Lady Bessington. ‘She hasn’t really been herself lately, and this morning she left without a word while Noah and the rest of us were still asleep.’

‘Noah!’ says Max.

‘Your son,’ says Lady Bessington.

‘My son!’ says Max. ‘My son Noah! And all these years not a word.’

‘I’m sorry about that,’ says Lady Bessington, ‘but perhaps we could go into it later. Just now I want to find Lola. Have you any idea where she might be?’

‘Yes,’ says Max, ‘I do. Can you pick me up as soon as possible?’ He gives her the address.

‘I’m on my way,’ says Lady Bessington. Lord Bessington is away at a conference, which makes things simpler.

When she pulls up in her Range Rover Max jumps in and directs her up the North End Road, through West Kensington, on to the Great West Road, Hogarth Roundabout, and the M4. The Range Rover swallows the miles as the names of towns grow large in front of them, small behind them. ‘How do you know where she’ll be?’ says Lady Bessington to Max.

‘Trust me,’ says Max. ‘She’s all I’ve thought about for the last four years.’ PUDDLETOWN, says a sign, and here are the E-type and a white Bedford camper and Lola struggling with somebody quite a bit larger than Max.

‘Thank you, God!’ says Max. He launches himself out of the Range Rover and on to the man who’s trying to pull Lola into the van. He knocks Geoffrey away from Lola but Max is having a hard time of it until WHAM! Lola swings Polaris with a good follow-through and out go the lights for the dentist.

‘Quick!’ she says, ‘he’s got duct tape. Tape his hands before he comes to. I’m Lola Bessington.’

‘I know who you are, Lola,’ says Max. ‘I’m Max.’

‘How do you do,’ says Lola, standing with both hands on her heart. ‘I’m Lola Bessington.’

‘I’m Max,’ says Max, unconsciously imitating her with his hands on his heart. Having secured Geoffrey, he says, ‘Who’s this?’

‘He’s not nice,’ says Lola. ‘Make him go away.’

Lady Bessington, who is a magistrate, phones the police. The formalities are taken care of and Geoffrey’s banged up in the local nick pending charges. While this is going on Max and Lola are standing there with their arms around each other even though Lola in her state of forgetfulness has only just met him. Perhaps some part of her remembers. The fog has cleared and it looks like being a nice day.

So there it is then. Although Max might have done better in the fidelity department, he’s had destiny on his side. What happens now? Well, Lola’s memory comes back, and she and Max get married at the next vernal equinox: 20 March on Kirsty’s Knowe which, as part of Diamond Heart, has approval for such things. The wedding is an odd little affair, done to Lola’s requirements. There’s no marquee, the whole thing takes place under the sky in which, in this Northern Hemisphere, Ursa Major never sinks below the horizon. It’s a civil ceremony performed by the local registrar but Lola’s in her wedding dress and looking every inch the bride. Max is in proper Moss Bros regalia. Seamus Flannery is best man. Harold Klein would have been among the fifty or so invited guests but has had a fatal rendezvous with a 14 bus a few years back. Hariprasad and Indira Ghosh are there with several other musicians to play Lola’s ‘Smriti’. Noah holds up one corner of his mother’s train and a blonde and blue-eyed Belgravia nymphet has the other. One or two of the guests say ‘who’s that girl in the shawl?’ ‘What girl is that?’ say the ones spoken to. Lord Bessington gives his daughter away with a good grace and Lady Bessington laughs and cries as appropriate. She can’t help thinking what a handsome couple Lola and Basil would have made but she has learned to connect with the changes around her. At the end of the ceremony Lola and Max join hands and recite the names of the seven stars of Ursa Major. Lola’s looking into Max’s eyes as they do this and this time around he feels fully real. They’ve been lucky too, because it hasn’t rained.

The wedding party drive back to Belgravia and this evening there is a proper reception with a big marquee in the garden and a cast of hundreds. Basil was invited but couldn’t make it. The music is provided by The Serenaders, a band who have climbed out of their coffins to schmaltzify the four main Lola songs along with various golden oldies. The young dance to these in the postmodern manner and their seniors do it their way. Lord Bessington regales guests with his account of Max’s impeccable behaviour in the rescue of Lola from the dentist. After a certain amount of champagne and private tuition from Max he joins his son-in-law in a chorus of the Kinky Friedman classic ‘They Ain’t Makin’ Jews Like Jesus Any More’. Lady Bessington laughs and cries some more and tells friends and relatives that Max, who is quite well known to an elite readership, is hard at work on his next novel.

As everyday life resumes Lola carries on with her music and she and Noah (sponsored by Daddy) perform at Wigmore Hall. Charlotte Prickles finds her rhythm again with Charlotte Prickles and the Orphans’ Canoe Trip. And Max is well on his way to Page One of Moe Levy’s Second Chance. The raven and his father’s Noah’s Ark join the lares et penates of his new family and are at home there. Apasmara goes back under Shiva’s right foot and is looking forward to his next breakout.

In moments of intimacy, sometimes when they’re outside looking up at the stars, Lola says to Max, ‘I love you but you don’t deserve me.’

‘I know,’ says Max.