Cinders, I called her, but why? Cinderella. Surely Gertrude was the last person in the world to make anyone want to call her by that name? Yet I did. Cinders … someone of importance had given a party to which she hadn’t been invited. I mocked her. ‘Poor old Cinders.’ It was her name from then on. She retaliated by calling me Dumb-Du-M.
I went and met Gertrude, not Cinders yet, at the station. She was wearing a fur coat. I remembered that Gerald, my father, always gave his leading ladies presents and took them to lunch at the Savoy. I must do the same. I asked Gertrude to lunch at a small table at the Savoy Grill, where we could talk uninterrupted about the play. She took one look at the table, ‘But nobody will see me here.’ We hastily moved to a table where everyone could see her as they walked into the Grill. She was so right. Then I do recollect presents of champagne, a fur rug either for her flat or her car, I’ve no idea, but I had an account at Fortnum’s, so to some extent I was doing a Gerald.
– Daphne du Maurier
(Photographed at Waterloo Station, London, October 1948)