The Queen's Accomplice by Susan Elia MacNeal

And, from what I hear, FDR’s odd-job man.” Outspoken supporter of the New Deal and the Roosevelts. “Frank Cole is the economic specialist for the State Department who then became a rather successful journalist. “Heavy on the vermouth and-horrors-I believe a splash of Pernod.” He shook his head. “Who’s Frank Cole?” she whispered to David when she could. Giving him a long look, Maggie realized there was something off: one of his eyes was a bright green, while the other was a true hazel. Oh, and let me introduce Frank Cole, my right-hand man.”įrank Cole was a thoroughly average-looking man with wide-set eyes behind heavy black-framed glasses and a rumpled suit that suggested moneyed eccentricity.

“And this lovely lady is Grace Tully, my secretary-and Lorena Hickok, Eleanor’s friend. “My adviser Harry Hopkins, you already know, of course,” he said, indicating a gaunt, chain-smoking man. “Forgive me if I don’t get up,” he joked, then wheeled himself over, Fala following with a wagging tail. President Roosevelt flashed his thousand-watt toothy grin. “An Anglo-Saxon alliance, to meet the problems of the world. Churchill accepted the cocktail glass from the President’s hands, she realized for the first time exactly how much the Boss would sacrifice to get on with the American leader and how strong was the Franklin-Winston bonhomie. Roosevelt poured into the jigger to mix with his gin and how graciously Mr. She knew all too well that the Prime Minister’s usual drinks were sherry, whiskey, brandy, and champagne-and only rarely a Martini, but with no vermouth, only “a bow toward France.” As she saw the generous amount of vermouth Mr. As the President took a sip from his glass, he closed his eyes in delight. “Or perhaps two.” The bar cart was crowded with different colored bottles of gin and French ver- mouth, Kentucky bourbon, Tennessee whiskey, rum, tonic, and various bitters. “And today I daresay you all deserve one.” He looked sideways at Churchill. “It’s my tradition of having cocktails at the end of the day!” he explained. “Welcome to Children’s Hour!” the President called to Mrs. Churchill, looking every inch the English bulldog, made his way around the room, hand extended, saying, “How-de-do? How-de-do?” Fala was busily inspecting the Prime Minister’s shoes and trousers, then sat back on his haunches as if to say, Yes, he passes my inspection.

He was in position behind a small brass cart, mixing drinks, Fala at his feet. The President was already holding court, seated in a stream lined wheelchair made from a regular dining chair.

The Queen's Accomplice by Susan Elia MacNeal