Lies and Weddings(9)
Suddenly Arabella’s eyes lit up and she seemed to recover slightly. “Yes, she will be good for OS, won’t she? Eden, you’ll offer your assistance, won’t you, in our time of need?”
Eden couldn’t fathom what the countess was referring to, but she knew the only appropriate response at this moment was to nod. She had been aware since a very young age that the countess didn’t consider the Tongs as equals to the Greshams—as the family doctor, Thomas Tong was barely a notch above the butler, and Eden merely a playmate for her children when it suited them. The countess, in her infinite self-absorption, hadn’t a clue how beloved Eden had become to her own children.
Bea, of course, did not make the same distinctions as her mother, and she cheered jubilantly. “Yay! It’s settled then. The Tongs are coming to Hawaii!” She grabbed Eden by the hand and pulled her out of the room before her mother could change her mind.
“My god, Bea. What have you done?”
“I can’t believe my plan actually worked! You have no idea, I’ve been scheming for months to get you invited!”
“Bea, I can’t just take off work for a whole week at the last minute, and I know nothing about organizing weddings,” Eden grumbled at this sudden turn of events. As much as she wanted to visit Hawaii, she didn’t fancy going as a glorified member of the Gresham staff.
“You can Zoom with your patients, and don’t worry, my mother has an army of wedding planners working around the clock as it is. We won’t have to do much except order them around and work on our tans.”
“So what’s this OS you keep talking about?”
“Plenty of time to tell you about OS later. Go pack your bags!”
“That’s the other thing—I have nothing to wear!” Eden sighed in exasperation.
“Sure you do. You can borrow my clothes. I’ll lend you the peach Dolce. Oh my god I’m so excited I need to have a wee! WHEELS UP AT NINE A.M.!!!”
Skip Notes
*1 There was that pair of ruffled culottes that made her legs look like they were being attacked by vicious doilies.
*2 Harry Collins MVO, with his family-run G. Collins & Sons in Royal Tunbridge Wells, was appointed the personal jeweler to Queen Elizabeth II in 2005.
*3 Princess Rosario of Bulgaria, Crown Princess Marie-Chantal of Greece, Queen Máxima of the Netherlands, Princess Sibilla of Luxembourg, and Princess Madeleine of Sweden, all Valentino brides.
*4 In Beatrice’s mind, the Big Three were Chanel, Dior, and Valentino.
*5 Arabella pronounces her daughter’s name in the Italian way, Be-ah-TREE-chey, not because she’s Italian but because she’s pretentious.
*6 A local Hawaiian delicacy consisting of white rice topped with slices of fried Spam, brown gravy, and a sunny-side-up egg, it was said to have been created in the 1940s when Hawaiian diners requested a dish they could afford. Spam is beloved comfort food throughout the Pacific, ever since the luncheon meat was served to GIs during World War II and adopted into local cuisines from Singapore to Saipan. My favorite Spam Loco Moco is at Tex Drive-In in Honokaa, and be sure to try their freshly made malasadas, a Portuguese fried donut that, similar to Spam, also found its way to Hawaii somehow.
FROM THE LATEST TATTLE…
LADY ARABELLA’S REVENGE
That roar you hear in the sky is the swoosh of all the private jets that will be landing at Kona airport this week for the nuptials of Lady Augusta Gresham and Prince Maximillian zu Liechtenburg. Despite an unfortunately timed volcanic eruption at the wedding site, the show must go on for this season’s most superb dynastic match. It’s a rule the Greshams have always followed, a rule that’s made them one of the most chronicled clans in these pages.
First there was Countess Arabella Gresham’s iconic portrait dressed in a gothic Alexander McQueen gown astride a zebra in the drawing room of Greshamsbury Hall. Then there was Lady Augusta and Lady Beatrice commanding the cover in vintage Shanghainese cheongsams to mark their twenty-first and sixteenth birthdays, respectively. And who could forget the photo that became the home screen of every girl in SW3—the bare-chested Viscount Rufus ironing his shirt before Radley’s Charity Fashion Show.
“My children were fortunate enough to be born at the right time—when being half Asian is seen as an asset rather than a curse,” the countess declares in the matter-of-fact manner that has endeared her to so many. But there’s a story from Arabella’s early years in London that she likes to tell. The young mother was playing with her infant daughter in the gardens by her Thurloe Square house (the big one on the corner) when she was approached by two ladies—a middle-aged mother and her thirtysomething daughter.
“The older woman said, ‘Excuse me, do you speak English?’ I was used to this question, so I simply nodded. The younger woman said, ‘We see you here every day. You’re so good with the baby. She clearly adores you.’ ‘Thank you,’ I replied. And then the older woman leaned over and whispered, ‘Whatever they’re paying you, we’ll double it.’ I was so confused, and then it hit me: These women think I’m the nanny! Because I’m Chinese, and my half-British daughter doesn’t look like me!” Lady Arabella recalls with a laugh.