Free Hollow Crown by David Roberts Page B

should I? Anyway, there’s more to it than that. In one of the letters the King refers to a report he has seen – a government report
about her.’
    ‘About Wallis?’
    ‘I think so. There’s not much about it but I get the feeling it’s a report about her background. You know there are some quite unpleasant stories about her first
marriage?’
    ‘She was in the Far East?’
    ‘Yes, but I heard her husband was a drunkard and a crook – I know about those,’ she said bitterly. ‘I’ve heard it said he humiliated her – took her to houses
of . . . well, they say he did horrible things to her, made her whore for him.’
    Edward thought for a moment. It was more than likely that the intelligence services would have looked into Mrs Simpson’s background and, if they had found out she was . . . unsuitable to
be a decent man’s wife, let alone a king’s . . . It hardly bore thinking about. He said at last, ‘Molly, it frightens me, all this. I thought you were just indulging in . . . I
don’t know . . . understandable pique, but what you are telling me is very serious. I beg you to hand over to me what you have – for your own safety.’
    ‘No!’ she said firmly. ‘If the King invites me to Fort Belvedere and asks me nicely . . . ’
    ‘Oh God . . . Molly, he won’t do that.’
    ‘Well then . . . ’
    ‘Look, I’m going to go off to bed. I won’t be such a connard as to offer you money for returning the letters but just think about what I’ve said. I do care about
you, Molly, and I would hate to see you hurt – I mean hurt more than you have been. I suppose you won’t show me them – the letters?’
    ‘Sorry, Edward dear – nothing doing. I’m not that much of a fool!’
    He was shocked. ‘You don’t think I would grab them out of your hand and make a run for it, do you?’
    ‘Better not put temptation in your way. I know I couldn’t resist it.’
    ‘Let’s talk again in the morning. You have had bad luck, my dear, and I’m truly sorry for you but this is . . . you must see, this is different. You are meddling in affairs of
state.’
    ‘Don’t patronize me, Edward, and don’t be pompous. You’re just a messenger . . . a carrier pigeon,’ she said contemptuously. ‘Go back and tell the people who
sent you, I want the King to ask me . . . ask me nicely to hand back his letters. I don’t think it’s so very much to ask.’
    ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a bore but . . . ’ He almost saw her hackles rise and decided not to say what he had been going to say: that what she wanted was out of the
question. Instead he said, ‘Will you be able to sleep?’
    He had noticed a bottle of Maalox tablets beside her bed.
    ‘Oh those,’ she said, following his eyes. ‘I don’t find those are strong enough on their own. I’ve got veronal in the cupboard. I couldn’t live without
it.’
    ‘You will be careful, won’t you, Molly? You shouldn’t mix Maalox and veronal.’
    ‘Dear Edward! You’re so sweet. Of course I’m careful. Look, I’ll think about what you have said, I promise.’
    ‘Right then. Good night.’ He went to kiss her on the cheek but at the last moment she turned her head and kissed him on the mouth. He hesitated for a second and then, rather
guiltily, returned her kiss.
    ‘Go now,’ she said. ‘We’ll talk some more in the morning. In the daylight things can look . . . different . . . clearer.’
    Edward opened the bedroom door a crack and, seeing the corridor empty, slipped out of Molly’s bedroom and into his own. He had achieved precisely nothing – made things worse if
anything, but at least he now knew the scale of the problem. Weaver had been less than frank with him, unless he did not know himself the full explosive power of what Molly had got hold of.
    It was almost midnight. His room was in darkness but there was a moon and a little light shone through a gap in the curtains and illuminated the bed. There was no way of switching off the