When All Is Said(32)

‘It’s Edward VIII,’ she continued, her hands now holding her napkin, her fingers running along its folds. ‘Edward and Mrs Simpson, that Edward? It was him on the coin.’

‘Is that right?’

‘As the story goes, they were to mint six coins for the occasion of his coronation in thirty-seven. Apparently on the day he sat for them to get his likeness, not only would he not turn the right way, he demanded they make a seventh, for her, for Wallis.’

‘What do you mean, “turn the right way”?’

‘According to Uncle Thomas, the tradition was that the new heir must sit in the opposite direction to that of his predecessor. But Edward thought his left side the more handsome and so refused point blank to sit to the right. Anyhow, the point is that he bullied the minters and made sure he got his seventh. Apparently he planned to give it to Wallis on the day of his coronation. But of course that never happened. He wanted to marry her you see, but she was divorced. At the time, a King was not allowed to marry a divorcee. So he was faced with a dilemma. He gave up his throne for love in the end. Very romantic, I suppose.’ She trailed off.

‘But how did your family come by it?’

‘Ah, yes, well, there I will have to betray some more of our family secrets. Perhaps I should whisper, sometimes I think these walls have ears.’ She eyed all four, before continuing. ‘Great-grandfather Hugh was a gambler. Poker. Was forever over in London and when there would spend his time in one particular den of iniquity, frequented by one of Edward’s footmen. It was he that told Great-grandfather the story of the disagreement between Edward and the Prime Minister of the time, can’t remember his name. Uncle could tell you. Begins with a B, I think. Balford, Bal—’

‘Baldwin?’

‘That’s the man. Edward it seems had been trying to convince Parliament to give Wallis a lesser title than Queen when he became King, but the PM was having none of it. There had been one final row between the two this one evening after which Edward could not be contained and had flung the coin across the floor of his study. He told the footman to get rid of the thing. But instead, he kept it. Turns out that footman was in debt to Great-grandfather, owed him quite a bit, it seems. And that’s what he gave him, to cover it. According to Uncle, Great-grandfather knew straight away what he held. And what’s more important, that it would be worth a packet in the future. He brought it home and then, well, all that awfulness happened with Thomas when he lost it. Seems he loved it as much as his father. Had a real obsession with all things antique and so would spend hours looking at it, despite how it annoyed Great-grandfather. No one really understood why. I mean Thomas meant no harm by it.’

She paused and gave me a sad smile and continued:

‘Uncle was never right after the disinheritance. He spent the rest of his life trying to find that coin. Not on the grounds I mean, although when he does come home I still find him wandering about looking down at the ground exactly where it fell, apparently. But no, he searches out there in the wider world. He’s kind of lost it, if you understand me. Poor Uncle Thomas.’

It was then she realised who she was speaking to and dropped her eyes because of the sympathy shown to my enemy. I paid it no heed.

‘They never called the guards, the day it went missing,’ I said, ‘never brought the law into it. We could never understand why.’

‘Well, now you know. Great-grandfather could never have risked the scandal. He should never have had the thing in the first place.’

‘The coin that ruined the fortunes of many, what?’

‘If only you knew the half of it.’ Her palm lay on the table, busy smoothing the invisible creases of the perfectly pressed tablecloth. ‘Still that’s enough of the family skeletons let out of the cupboard for one night, I think.’

And then she raised her glass across the table to me:

‘A final toast, Mr Hannigan. To us.’

I smiled and raised my tumbler in return.

I didn’t stay much longer after. And I admit I was eager to be away from the place to consider all that I’d been told. So I rose and thanked her for her kindness before taking to the air and driving myself home.

Sadie was still watching the telly in the front room but I didn’t linger long with her and continued on down the corridor to my bedroom. After a bit of rummaging in the drawer of the dressing table, I pulled out the coin from where it had lain untouched since your Auntie Noreen had got her hands on it a few years back, but I’m coming to that. I looked at the King’s defiant face to consider how far it had fallen from grace: from the splendour of English royalty, to the mediocrity of a County Meath dairy farmer. Sitting on the bed, I twisted it under the light of the bedside lamp to get a good look at him – the King. What did it feel like, I wondered, walking away from everything for love? Would I have done the same, were our roles reversed? I chuckled, as I pictured myself over there, in the splendour of an English castle and him back here, knee deep in muck and hay. It occurred to me, feeling the weight of it in the palm of my hand, that by rights that little beauty might well be considered mine now, given I had effectively bought it by virtue of my shares in the hotel. After a bit I replaced it and made my way to the bed with the madness of it all running around in my head. It didn’t leave me, however, even in my sleep. Its beauty and wealth danced me through stately rooms and cowsheds. Faces I knew, and some I didn’t, drifted in and out of confused scenes I couldn’t remember when I awoke with a start.