Left You Dead

7

‘God,’ Cleo said. ‘The poor man — he gave up the throne for the woman he loved and the Royal Family back then really treated him like shit, didn’t they? Do you think he deserved that?’

‘Darling, I don’t think you can trust a single word on that show — I’m sorry, but it makes me angry. If you’re going to make a historical drama, you’ve a duty to your audience to make it accurate, don’t you think?’ Roy Grace said.

Stuffed from their barbecue, which they’d just finished before the rain started, they were snuggled up on the sofa with an equally stuffed Humphrey between them, who seemed as absorbed in the television programme as they were. After months of showing signs of pain, he had managed to jump up on the sofa for the first time in ages, so the massage treatment he’d been having was seemingly getting him back to normal and helping his condition. Roy had a small glass of rosé and Cleo, pregnant, a glass of water and a bowl of spicy nuts — her latest craving — beside her. The boys were up in their rooms, Noah fast asleep and Bruno no doubt gaming.

Hugging Humphrey, Cleo said, ‘I hate to say it, but you were right, Roy. Humphrey wasn’t really getting angry with the kids — he was actually in pain. Now look at him after his massages. It’s amazing, he’s back to soppy Humphrey.’

‘Yep.’ Roy stroked him. ‘Good boy, very, very good boy!’

They’d finally got round to watching The Crown. It was 1953. The Duke of Windsor, having refused to attend the coronation of his niece, Queen Elizabeth II, without his wife, Wallis, the Duchess of Windsor — who had pointedly not been invited — was watching the coronation on a tiny television at their French chateau, with Wallis and a group of their friends. He was standing, cigarette in hand, giving a running commentary on the proceedings, clearly wistful at all that might have been for him. And very bitter at how he had been treated.

‘At least the Duke and Duchess had the good fortune to be in a decent chateau — unlike our holiday-from-hell one that I booked us!’ Cleo said.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘We chose it together.’

‘Well, next time, let’s try to make a better choice, eh?’

Cleo smiled thinly, then looked back at the screen. ‘You’re right about this show. I was rubbish at History at school,’ she said. ‘I didn’t like my History teacher, so I hardly learned a thing. Now I’m fascinated by it, I want to learn as much as I can, but how can we tell in this series what is the truth and what isn’t? I read an interview with the writer, talking about a scene he made up. So how do we know just how much he’s invented?’

‘I totally agree,’ Grace replied. ‘If I watch something historical, I want to believe it’s accurate, otherwise what’s the point? Whatever distortions in this or any other period drama, you’ll have millions of people forever believing mistakenly that that was the truth — and that’s very dangerous. And not just this show, but countless other so-called historical dramas.’

‘Also,’ Cleo said, ‘it’s hard to judge anything that happened in the past by the standards we have today, isn’t it?’

‘Sure. Attitudes in general were different then. Divorce is part of life today — back then it was pretty much a cardinal sin.’

She looked at him quizzically. ‘Would you have given up the throne for me?’

‘Without a second’s thought.’

She thumped him playfully. ‘Liar!’

‘I totally would have!’

The dog responded by farting. Both batted away the toxic smell with their hands. ‘Humphrey, no, that’s disgusting!’ Grace chided.

The dog gave him a baleful but unapologetic eye.

‘And very disrespectful in front of Her Majesty, Humphrey!’ Cleo complained, picking up the remote and freezing the video. ‘I can’t stop thinking about what you told me earlier, your visit to Guy.’

Batchelor’s notebook lay on the table in front of them.

‘It could end Cassian Pewe’s career,’ she said. ‘But what if it backfired?’

He nodded. ‘I know.’

‘They’d be relying on the evidence of a convicted, bent stockbroker and a police officer convicted of manslaughter. How well do you think that would play?’

‘In the right hands, it would be goodbye Cassian Pewe.’

She nodded at the television. ‘When he was King Edward VIII, he made a massive miscalculation, and lived out the rest of his life a sad and lost man, who had given up the trappings of royal life.’

‘And your point is?’

‘Swap Wallis Simpson for Cassian Pewe for a moment. You are risking everything that you have over him? You know the Chinese proverb, don’t you?’

‘Which is?’

‘Before you seek revenge, first dig two graves.’

He smiled. ‘I will. One for Cassian Pewe and one for his ego.’