Must You Go_ - Antonia Fraser [8]
Harold has returned home to Regent’s Park to be with his son while Vivien is in Crete. Harold: ‘I want you to know that the way I am thinking is that I want to live with you, that’s the way my thoughts are.’ Then: ‘In twenty years’ time, we wouldn’t have this sort of crisis, because we would be sixty-four and sixty-two.’
Me, thinking of Lady Longford: ‘What about younger women?’
Harold (furious): ‘I like mature women, doesn’t she realize, I am a boy at heart, ever eighteen, so naturally I like mature women.’
28 May
Lunch with Mark Boxer at Neal Street Restaurant. Physically, a curious mixture of Harold’s looks, the dark curly hair and black/hazel eyes, but less force in his appearance. We had not met for some time.
Mark: ‘Do you remember when I brought a cricket side to the Hurst Green Cricket Club against your father?’
Me: ‘How odd! Of course I do. And I was telling somebody interested in cricket about it only the other day.’ I had indeed attempted to establish my cricket-loving credentials with Harold by telling him about this match against my father’s village. Of course Mark, who was always up for any gossip, got the reference immediately.
Mark, meaningfully: ‘Would SOMEBODY “interested in cricket” like to play in a match for the Sunday Times?’ I blushed. Mark told me he had been thinking aloud of cricketing stars for this match in Surrey, then of stars who played cricket. He asked the Surrey Chairman: ‘Would Harold Pinter do?’ Explained he was a playwright. Man from the club, affronted: ‘We have heard of Harold Pinter in Surrey!’
30 May
Took Harold to dinner with Diana Phipps. Diana seized a moment alone to hiss: ‘He’s marvellous. I revise all my advice. You must marry him as soon as possible.’ Really! She’s worse than Mummy in her advice.
The next night we had dinner with Sam Spiegel who simply could not understand why Harold had told Vivien: ‘You could have had all the pleasure and none of the pain.’ Ah, the Viennese!
2 June
I love Harold, I adore him, but I wonder whether I am capable of uprooting myself for anyone? Do I have the courage? I am quite a cowardly person, I know. Whether I have not finally and carefully constructed my own very pleasant prison from which emotionally I can’t escape. If only we could just go on and on being lovers … I fear for the effects of everyday life on love.
I was photographed for the Sunday Mirror in connection with a book Scottish Love Poems I had chosen and edited for my friends Angus and Stephanie Wolfe Murray to launch their new Edinburgh imprint, Canongate Publishing. The photographer took me into the garden. It was very cold and rather silly. I should stop fooling around with hats and roses.
Vivien is back from Crete, much calmer but steadfast that she will cite me in the divorce.
7 June
I worked on Charles II and felt rather happy for a change. Letter in The Times about the naming of the characters in No Man’s Land for famous cricketers. I remember remarking to Harold in Paris that Hirst was evidently Jewish (I have some Jewish friends called Hirst). He said indignantly that he was named for the Yorkshire cricketer. Now he states: ‘The names were appropriate. That is to say, Spooner could never have been called Hirst.’ Harold tells me I am his ‘joy’ before going very joyfully off to cricket.
11 June
Coffee at Grosvenor House with Harold. Very hot day. Wore new white piqué dress with pink and blue stone necklace. He has now heard definitely from the lawyer that I will be cited and soon. I need a lawyer. Harold hugged me. ‘I love you and want to marry you.’ (He had not used those exact words before.) Afterwards I question it, the whole idea. Harold firmly: ‘No, I like being married. I think we had better get married.’ I said nothing although it is quite like being in a car of gathering speed going to the sea and still not quite making up my mind whether I intend to bathe or not. Exhilarating.