One of Jemima’s school friends was having afternoon tea (how the other half live!) and Jemima wanted to sit with her.
Alex said, ‘Do we know her family?’
Jemima had to give a long, complicated description of her friend’s parents.
I asked Alex why Jemima needed cross-examination to sit with a little girl in a pristine sailor’s dress, eating sandwiches with a knife and fork.
He said, ‘That’s just how we do things in our family.’
We then ended up in the very weird position of talking about Alex’s family and his upbringing.
He’s not half as spoiled as I thought. He had a pretty tough childhood, actually. Boarding school. A lot of studying. No toys unless they were earned. I mean, it’s not as if he went hungry or anything. But it didn’t sound like a lot of fun.
Daisy fell asleep on my lap, thank God.
Alex was very gentlemanly and had the waiter run out to get me a straw for my cup of tea so I didn’t wake her.
And Daisy didn’t wake – not even when I dropped a pistachio macaroon on her head.
When I burned my mouth drinking tea through the straw, Alex said, ‘Perhaps champagne would be better.’ And ordered a bottle.
He knew all the staff by name and stuff about their lives and their families. And he didn’t once seem uncomfortable to be stuck with me. All in all, it was an unexpectedly lovely afternoon.
At one point I said, ‘Your staff in the Bond Street Dalton must get jealous. Because you know everyone’s name here.’
He said he knew the names of his staff in every hotel he owned.
I was a bit blown away by that.
He said, ‘You know your sisters’ names, don’t you? The people working in my hotels are my family too.’
Which I thought was pretty lovely.
We ended up talking about the Dalton New Year’s Ball, and he asked me why I didn’t go last year.
I was a bit taken aback that he’d noticed.
He said, ‘Of course I noticed. I notice you every year. Always have done. Why wouldn’t I?’
I said, ‘We know each other, but it’s not like we’re friends.’
He said, ‘You don’t think we’re friends?’
‘Maybe now,’ I said. ‘But before the training this year … we were just acquaintances weren’t we?’
I didn’t tell Alex that all us girls watched him as teenagers. That we giggled about tall, dark and handsome slightly-grumpy Alex Dalton.
Alex said, ‘I’ve never seen you as just an acquaintance.’
We talked a bit more about the charity balls, and I asked him what the theme would be for this New Year.
He said his mother hadn’t decided yet. But he was sure another humiliating auction would take place.
I blushed bright red.
Did he know I only got old-man bids this year? He wasn’t in the room, but did someone tell him?
Then Alex said, ‘Look, if you’re going up against the Jolly-Piggotts, you really do need a decent solicitor.’