Kane & Abel (1979) (47 page)

‘A month abroad with a strange man?’ she said, placing a hand coyly over her lips. ‘What would your grandmothers have thought?’

‘That you are nothing more than a wanton hussy.’

William and Kate sailed on the
Mauretania
, sleeping in separate cabins. Once they had settled into the Savoy, in separate rooms, in fact on separate floors, William reported to the London branch of Kane and Cabot in Lombard Street, and fulfilled the ostensible purpose of his trip by making a thorough review of the bank’s European activities. Morale was high, and he discovered that Tony Simmons had been well liked and admired by the London staff, so there was little left for William to do but murmur his approval.

He and Kate spent a glorious month in London, attending the opera, the Old Vic and the Albert Hall by night, while by day he showed her the Tower of London, Fortnum’s and the Royal Academy, where he bought a painting by William Sickert.

Kate had her photograph taken standing next to a guard outside Buckingham Palace. Although William didn’t try to distract them this time, they still didn’t blink. It brought back memories of his mother. William and Kate then walked hand in hand down Whitehall and had their photograph taken standing outside Number Ten, Downing Street.

‘Now we’ve done everything that’s expected of a self-respecting American,’ suggested William.

‘Except visit Oxford,’ said Kate. ‘My father was a Rhodes scholar and I’d love to visit his old college.’

The following morning William hired a Bullnose Morris, and set off through the winding roads and country lanes that led to the University city. William parked the car outside the Radcliffe and they spent the rest of the morning wandering around the colleges - Magdalen, superb by the river, Christ Church, grandiose but cloisterless, Balliol, where Kate’s father had spent a couple of idle years and Merton, where they just sat on the grass and dreamed.

‘Can’t sit on the grass, sir,’ said the voice of a college porter.

They laughed, jumped up and walked hand in hand like a couple of undergraduates beside the Isis, where they watched eight Matthews straining to propel their boat along as swiftly as possible.

After a late lunch they started back for London, stopping at Henley-on-Thames for tea at the Bell Inn overlooking the river. After scones and a large pot of strong English tea, Kate suggested that perhaps they should be leaving if they still hoped to be back at the Savoy before nightfall. But when William inserted the crank into the Bullnose Morris, despite several attempts, he couldn’t get the engine to turn over. Finally he gave up and, as it was getting dark, decided that they would have to spend the night in Henley. He returned to the front desk of the Bell and requested two rooms.

‘Sorry, sir, I only have one double room available,’ said the receptionist.

William hesitated for a moment and then said, ‘We’ll take it.’

Kate tried to hide her surprise, but said nothing; the receptionist looked at them suspiciously.

‘Mr and Mrs … ?’

‘Mr and Mrs William Kane,’ said William firmly. ‘We’ll be back later.’

‘Shall I put your cases in the room, sir?’ the hall porter asked.

‘We don’t have any,’ William replied, smiling.

‘I see, sir,’ an eyebrow rising.

William led a bewildered Kate up Henley’s High Street until he turned down a path that led to the parish church.

‘May I ask what we’re doing, William?’

‘Something I should have done a long time ago, my darling.’

In the Norman vestry, William found a church warden piling up some hymnals.

‘Where can I find the vicar?’ William asked.

The church warden straightened himself to his full height and regarded William pityingly.

‘In the vicarage, I dare say.’

‘Where’s the vicarage?’

‘You’re an American gentleman, aren’t you, sir?’

‘Yes,’ said William, trying not to sound impatient.

‘The vicarage will be next door to the church, won’t it?’ said the church warden.

‘I suppose it will,’ said William. ‘Can you stay here for the next ten minutes?’

‘Why should I want to do that, sir?’

William extracted a large, white PS5 note from his inside pocket and unfolded it. ‘Make it fifteen minutes to be on the safe side, please.’

The church warden studied the banknote carefully before placing it in the collection box. ‘Americans,’ he muttered.

William quickly guided Kate out of the church. As they passed the notice board in the porch, he read, ‘The Very Reverend Simon Tukesbury, MA (Cantab), Vicar of this Parish’, and next to that pronouncement, hanging by a nail, was an appeal for a new church roof. ‘Every penny towards the necessary PS500 will help’, it declared, not very boldly. William hastened up the path to the vicarage, with Kate following a few steps behind. A smiling, pink-cheeked, plump woman answered his sharp rap on the door.

‘Mrs Tukesbury?’

‘Yes?’ she smiled.

‘May I speak to your husband?’

‘He’s having his tea at the moment. Would it be possible for you to come back a little later?’

‘I’m afraid it’s rather urgent,’ William insisted.

Kate still said nothing.

‘Well, in that case I suppose you’d better come in.’

The vicarage was early sixteenth century, and the small beamed front room was warmed by a welcoming log fire. The vicar, a tall, spare man, was eating wafer-thin cucumber sandwiches. He rose to greet them.

‘Good afternoon, Mr … ?’

‘Kane, sir, William Kane.’

‘What can I do for you, Mr Kane?’

‘Kate and I,’ said William, ‘want to get married.’

Kate’s mouth was open, but no words came out.

‘Oh, how delightful,’ said Mrs Tukesbury.

‘Yes, indeed,’ said the vicar. ‘Are you a member of this parish? I don’t seem to remember …’

‘No, sir, I’m an American. I worship at St Paul’s in Boston.’

‘Massachusetts, I presume, not Lincolnshire,’ said the Very Reverend Tukesbury.

‘That’s right,’ said William, realizing for the first time there was a Boston in England.

‘Splendid,’ said the vicar, his hands raised as if he were about to give a blessing. ‘And when did you have in mind for this union of souls?’

‘Today, sir.’

‘Today?’ said the vicar.

‘Today?’ repeated Kate.

‘I am not familiar with the traditions in the United States that surround the solemn, holy and binding institution of marriage, Mr Kane,’ said the startled vicar, ‘although one reads of some very strange happenings involving some of your countrymen from the State of Nevada. I can, however, inform you that those customs have not yet found their way to Henley-on-Thames. In England you must reside for a full calendar month in a parish before you can be married in its church, and the banns have to be posted on three separate occasions, unless there are very special and extenuating circumstances. Even if such circumstances exist, I would still have to seek the bishop’s dispensation, and I couldn’t do that in less than three days.’

Kate spoke for the first time. ‘How much do you still need to raise for the church’s new roof?’

‘Ah, the roof. Now there is a sad story, but I won’t embark upon it at this moment - early eleventh century, you know—’

‘How much do you need?’ asked William, tightening his grasp on Kate’s hand.

‘We are hoping to raise five hundred pounds. We’ve done commendably well so far; we’ve reached twenty-seven pounds four shillings and four pence in only seven weeks.’

‘No, no, dear,’ said Mrs Tukesbury. ‘You haven’t remembered the one pound eleven shillings and two pence I made from my Bring and Buy sale last week.’

‘Indeed I haven’t, my dear. How inconsiderate of me to overlook your personal contribution. That will make altogether …’ began the Reverend Tukesbury as he tried to add the figures in his head, raising his eyes towards Heaven for inspiration.

William took his wallet from an inside pocket, wrote out a cheque for PS500 and without another word handed it to the Very Reverend Tukesbury.

‘I - ah, I see there are special circumstances, Mr Kane,’ said the vicar. His tone changed. ‘Have either of you ever been married before?’

‘Yes,’ said Kate. ‘My husband was killed in a plane crash four years ago.’

‘Oh, how distressing for you,’ said Mrs Tukesbury. ‘I am so sorry, I didn’t—’

‘Shush, my dear,’ said the man of God, now more interested in the church roof than in his wife’s sentiments. ‘And you, sir?’

‘I have never been married,’ said William.

‘I shall have to telephone the bishop.’ Clutching William’s cheque, the Very Reverend Mr Tukesbury disappeared into his study.

Mrs Tukesbury invited Kate and William to sit down, and offered them some cucumber sandwiches and a cup of tea. She chatted on, but William and Kate did not hear her words as they sat gazing at each other.

The vicar returned three cucumber sandwiches later.

‘It’s highly irregular, highly irregular, but the bishop has agreed, on condition, Mr Kane, that you confirm that the marriage has taken place with the American embassy tomorrow morning, and then with your own bishop at St Paul’s in Boston - Massachusetts, who must give a church blessing when you return home.’

He was still clutching the PS500 cheque.

‘All we need now are two witnesses,’ the vicar continued. ‘My wife can act as one, and we must hope that the church warden is still on duty, so he can be the other.’

‘He is still on duty,’ said William.

‘How can you be so sure, Mr Kane?’

‘He cost me one per cent.’

‘One per cent?’ said the Very Reverend Mr Tukesbury, baffled.

‘A down payment on the church roof,’ explained Kate.

The vicar ushered William, Kate and his wife out of the house and down the little path to the church, where the church warden was waiting. ‘Indeed, I perceive that Mr Sprogget has remained on duty … He has never done so for me; you obviously have a way with you, Mr Kane.’

Simon Tukesbury put on his vestments and a surplice while the church warden looked on in disbelief.

William turned to Kate and kissed her gently. ‘I know it’s a damn silly question in the circumstances my darling, but will you marry me?’

‘Good God,’ said the Very Reverend Mr Tukesbury, who had never blasphemed in the previous fifty-seven years of his mortal existence. ‘You mean you haven’t even proposed?’

Twenty minutes later, Mr and Mrs William Kane left the parish church of Henley-on-Thames, Oxfordshire. At the last moment Mrs Tukesbury had to supply the ring, which she removed from a curtain rail in the vestry. It was a perfect fit. The Very Reverend Mr Tukesbury had a new roof, Mr Sprogget had a yarn to tell them down at the Green Man, while Mrs Tukesbury decided, after consulting her husband, that she would not inform the Mothers’ Union of how the money for the new roof had been raised.

Outside the vestry door the vicar handed William a piece of paper. ‘Two shillings and sixpence, please.’

‘What for?’ asked William.

‘Your marriage certificate, Mr Kane.’

You should have taken up banking, sir,’ said William, handing Mr Tukesbury half a crown.