A Death in Diamonds

Urquhart was stung. It was rare for Her Majesty to issue a rebuke, but when she did, she chose her words well. Silly and uncoordinated. If Sir Hugh were to hear of it . . . It was all the fault of that stupid girl, of course, for not making herself clearer and then discussing the thing with Jeremy, and not himself, if indeed she’d talked to anyone. She had been nothing but trouble, apart from the filing – which any office girl could do. It was what he was trying to say. He returned to his point.

‘She didn’t show me the note. But, that’s not all, ma’am. I really can’t have her working for me.’

‘I hate to mention it, Miles, but she doesn’t actually work for you, she works for me.’

‘Well, technically, ma’am.’ He caught the look in HM’s eye and corrected himself. ‘I mean of course she does, but . . .’

‘You mentioned lateness?’

At least Her Majesty was listening, and keen to get to the bottom of the thing.

‘Twice, at least,’ he explained. ‘Swanning in at past nine a.m.’

Fiona, bless her, was rarely in by ten, but always looked divine when she arrived with her darling Monty. Joan, if anything, looked more frazzled and unkempt when she was late than when she crept in on time.

The Queen nodded. ‘Oh dear. And “cocky”, I think you said? In what way?’

Had he said ‘cocky’? Well, she was.

‘McGraw’s attitude to punctuality speaks for itself, ma’am. She’s a typist: she should be able to keep office hours if anyone can. She’s been here five minutes and she’s getting ideas.’

‘Ah.’

‘It’s not a surprise, as I said.’ At last, Urquhart could play his ace. He looked suitably sombre; it didn’t do to crow when delivering the coup de grâce. ‘Jeremy’s been doing some research. Due diligence, you might call it, and we’ve discovered she has a history of this sort of thing.’

‘Oh?’

‘McGraw’s war record. Gross insubordination. Far worse than we might have imagined. I’m not surprised she doesn’t talk about it. I’m afraid, given what we know, we can’t possibly keep her in the Private Office after this.’

‘May I see it?’

Urquhart dutifully held out the manila folder he’d armed himself with before leaving his office.

‘Of course, ma’am. It’s all there in black and white. I’m sure when you read it, you’ll see what I mean.’

Chapter 9

Joan found herself summoned to the Queen’s presence at half past six, as she was preparing to tidy up her desk. It would be the first time in five days that she’d finished before 9 p.m., but she didn’t mind this little delay – in fact, she was excited. There was a lot she wanted to discuss with Her Majesty if she got the chance. She arrived at the door of the royal study on the second floor in a buoyant mood.

The look on the Queen’s face put paid to that.

‘Good evening.’

Joan curtseyed warily. ‘Good evening, Your Majesty.’

‘We don’t have long. I’m due downstairs shortly. I’ve been reading about your war record.’

Joan’s good spirits evaporated.

The Queen sat at a heavy, Chippendale pedestal desk set at right angles to the room’s bow window, with the darkening sky behind her left shoulder. There were comfortable chairs elsewhere in the room, but the cluttered desk was a place of work. Tonight, a bulb in an Anglepoise lamp illuminated the incriminating document sitting on the royal blotter.

‘The DPS unearthed it for me. I’m afraid we have a bit of a problem.’

A bit of a problem.

The room was quiet, except for the sound of Joan’s new life crashing down around her. She stood straight and still, using everything she had to stop her eyes from even glistening.

‘You were demoted, I understand.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Oh dear.’ The Queen looked up. ‘I actually remember the incident, though I didn’t know your part in it. My father told me about it.’

‘He did?’

‘Yes. Everyone was concerned about Brigadier Yelland losing his command of Longmeadow in the run-up to D-Day. You worked for Yelland, I understand?’

Joan nodded. The headquarters at Longmeadow marked the end of her ‘interesting’ war.

Before arriving there, she had already been moved from Bletchley to Trent Park in Middlesex. At the latter, her role had been to interview senior German prisoners of war. She had been chosen because she was young and female, which instantly wrong-footed them and proved a good way of tripping them up. To that she added her linguistic ability, a certain hard-headedness and natural investigative skill, so that the work had come easily.

She wasn’t pleased when an admiral at Naval Intelligence tasked her to assist Brigadier Yelland at his secret HQ in the spring of 1944, but the new job came with a promotion and the assurance that the high-ups in Whitehall were keeping an eye on her career.