April showers
Anthony Blond
Au Revoir Monsieur Bonjour
T last saw her, I was going to say in 'public, but as that and her private life are indistinguishable, and now more so, I had better say 'out of doors' — ten years ago, at the marriage of June Churchill's daughter Arabella, to a nice young man called Bar- ton, since discarded, the son of a prison governor. I had slipped out of the Unitarian church early to supervise the loading of the bridal pair onto my two tone (grey on grey) Barker 1932 Rolls Royce, the loan of which, together with a Hungarian Count in tight leather boots up to the navel, was my wed- ding present to the happy couple. The first of the family guests was Winston Churchill junior, escorting his grandmother, Clemen- tine, obviously prepared to endure the at- tention and flashlights of the papa- razzi ... but not for long, for as one man they swivelled their cameras to a more spec- tacular vision. Tsarina-like, shining as brightly as the sun itself 'Who the helPg that?' muttered the one nearest to me as he clicketed away. 'April Ashley' I said with a touch of pride. He must have been a very ignorant paparazzo.
In that year, 1972, April had wafted round the Corniche in a 'Corniche' belong- ing to Tommy Kyle the maitre en titre of Gussy Levene, owner of Perrier, and so the best-kept boy in the world. She visited Japan as the guest of Fuji Television. She had her own restaurant AD8 where she was the sole attraction — the food was appall' ing — and was living with Edward Madoe, killed later in the year in a car crash. (Violent death was a characteristic of many of April's friends. She had an affair with Tim Willoughby just before he drowned in his yacht and dined with Albert Kaplan not noticing that he was only eating pills which killed him in the night). In the same year she went to a dinner party given by Robin Maugham 'for Gerald Hamilton's 80-something birthday at the flat which the Hon Lady Joan Asherton-Smith shared with Hermione Baddeley', met Noel Coward and Cecil Beaton — adored him, loathed her; at that time she was spending sleepless nights in her flats, despite large doses of booze and Tuinal, because of what she first thought was the sound of a dripping tall. It turned out to be Kenneth Tynan's bottombeing continuously slapped by her house guest 'F' — the only discretion in the book. She quarrelled with Ken over money, he spent a lot of time on the transatlantic telephone and didn't help with the rent. On his predilection she comments 'such a claim:. Lily and colourless bondage, the sound 01 dandruff striking the shoulders'. April, 1°11 see, can write and I think that is her talkin8 and not the reticent ghost. By 1972 April had had every go°d: looking man in London from Adam to Zamowski and in one season in Marbella' and I think once in one night, 'the tw° handsomest men in the world' Pet!! O'Toole and Omar Sharif. No doubt She was looking forward to 1973. How did George Jamieson, middle child of a drunken navy cook, born in a Liver" pool slum, where, to stop it being stole% the coal was kept in the bath, become the Honourable Mrs Arthur Corbett, daughter- in-law of Lord Rowallan, and an interns' tionally famous star? Well the answer Must, be through beauty, will, guts, charm an wit, dotted with a sprinkling of talent like a screwful of pepper on a rich and creamy dish. As a child she was pretty, feminine and bullied. When he went to sea he sus fered agonies with his curvaceous an epicene body and prayed for cold daYs when he could cover it with oil skins. He was blushingly in love most of the time but remained a virgin convinced that he Was meant to be a woman and would. never be happy until he was. The sailors were kin' and the ship owners considerate when he had the inevitable breakdown. It was 'goodbye sailor' with ° dishonourable discharge and hello to Of Paris of the Fifties of the Cafe Fiore with Francoise Sagan supping an aperitif with Simone de Beauvoir and Jean Paul Sartre permanently on display. She became 'Tont April' and worked in Le Carousel with Ole; cinelle and other transvestites. Her act wasn't much good but it didn't matter' More important, she earned enough money to gratify her dream of becoming a woman. The operation was performed in Casa- blanca by a sensitive and considerate surgeon called Dr Burou and it is 111°st movingly described. As she went under, the last words she heard were 'Au revoir, Mon- sieur' and on waking up the first she heard was 'Bonjour Mademoiselle'. The opera- tion changed her life, saved her sanity and April has triumphed over jibes, sneers and giggles she has frequently encountered and Perhaps occasionally provoked. Her courage and honesty are devastating and dangerous. On being introduced to Princess Margaret by Christopher Sykes (`ere Mag- gie, come and meet April) she curtsied ap- propriately and asked HRH to visit her restaurant.
`I'll send someone to look at it' she said. You mean you'll have someone case the joint first?'
End of Royal patronage.
This is a marvellous book; breathtaking, a bit exhausting perhaps, but never boring. It has more wisdom than a bench-load of j_Ildges and more wit than a crate of comics. Of Barbara Bach, Ringo Starr's wife, she said 'She drives dangerously at 15mph waiting for the Belisha beacons to turn to green'. One can only hurrah for April.
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