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After just one glass of champagne at the Club I told my brand-new husband that I needed to go upstairs to our honeymoon suite and fix my make-up.

“You’re perfect as you are, my dear,” he said, his eyes twinkling with pride and giving him the look of a much younger man, “but go if you must. Just don’t be too long…” He resumed talking to his guests. Well, our guests. I could tell how proud he was.

I gathered my wedding dress in my hands and skipped from the room, still full of nervous excitement in the wake of the ceremony. Mrs. Franklin Stafford! I was going to have to get used to that! Inside the hotel suite I opened a window and lit a sneaky cigarette. Frank didn’t like me to smoke but I thought it might calm my nerves. Because of the difference in our ages, (he, at 51, was almost 20 years older than me,) Frank often treated me like a little girl. In truth I kind of liked it though and so did he. It was a game we played.

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