We are at the end of the line with the “Ladies of London,” their second season is sadly coming to an end after ten episodes. We start with Baroness Carol as she greets Annabelle into her home for lentil soup. There are four bowls out, so other ladies are obviously on their way. In the meantime, Annabelle shares that she’s still recovering from Lady Julie’s lack of friendship and compassion during her difficult time in Denmark. Annabelle is still grieving over Alexander McQueen who died five years ago in a most tragic setting.
Juliet and Lady Julie arrive and the “Let’s attack Lady Julie” luncheon begins. Carol is first to strike, having perfected the cunning combination of friendly and hostile. Carol says she’s “tickled pink” that Lady Julie no longer thinks she’s a terrible person. Lady Julie’s response? “That was months ago.”
Annabelle jumps on board with the – you’re not kind and genuine anymore. Lady Julie is taken aback by this. She reads a very long apologetic text message expressing her sorrow at having hurt Annabelle’s feelings sent just yesterday. Annabelle wants Lady Julie to pick up the damn phone and call. Carol explains that in a moment of Annabelle’s need, Lady Julie wasn’t there for her.
This leads to a major meltdown by Lady Julie. Through sobs, she explains that she has four kids, a husband, Jub balls, yoga, and Mapperton to save. Annabelle has none of those things. She doesn’t understand Lady Julie’s scheduling conflicts. Lady Julie apologizes again to Annabelle. When the room grows quiet, Juliet tells Lady Julie she’s always been there for her – so there’s that.
Lady Julie and Marissa meet later that night for a white wine spritzer because Marissa doesn’t want Lady Julie to drink alone. She is still frazzled and shaking from her lentil lunch meltdown. The whole scene is rehashed. Marissa offers that Annabelle doesn’t understand the simplicity of texting, since she has nothing else going on in her life. Lady Julie then says she has a bone to pick with Caroline Stanbury for repeating to Caroline Fleming what she said in private about her being terrible – but we know that will never happen.
Over at Caroline’s house, she is getting a taste of being a stay at home mom since Gift Library doesn’t need her anymore – a stay at home mom who has a nanny and maid. And Caroline is miserable. She’s not the type of girl that marries a banker, pushes out a few kids, then gives her banker husband a massage and bj when he gets home from work. In fact, I’m willing to bet it’s the other way around at Caroline’s house. But still, she feels unfulfilled by the job you never go home from.
Annabelle is having a children’s reading party for her “Me, me, me” book series at Marissa’s restaurant, Bumpkin, because another place backed out. The two meet to discuss the menu, and talk about what else, Lady Julie’s lack of compassion. Across town, Juliet is shopping with a model/actress/friend because she considers herself a fashion fairy-godmother of sorts. And her blog is taking off – according to her.
Annabelle is now meeting Caroline for a drink at a ritzy, small bar. I could be wrong, but I think it’s the same spot RHONY’s Dorinda Medley and Carol Radziwill hosted their small gathering when they were in London. This gathering isn’t as festive, though. Caroline’s there to have the $hit-or-get-off-the pot speech with Annabelle about hanging out with the other ladies and being all skulky-faced. Annabelle’s natural defense mechanism is to retreat and her anxiety comes off as snobbery. We learn that Caroline will be hosting a pool party for the season finale. Annabelle assures Caroline she’ll attend. We’ll see about that.
I love Caroline’s home. Anytime they film there is a treat. The party planner, Nicole, stops by to help plan the chic pool party Caroline wants. Tropical band? Yes. Hawaiian tiki bar? Yes. Hot men to serve? No. Too expensive. But no worries, Luke saves the day. He can get male hookers for a fraction of the cost of models. Nothing says chic like male hookers.
The following day is the children’s book reading of “Angry Me.” The children are so well behaved as they politely listen to the story. If that were in America, the kids would be running around the room, screaming. It’s a great day and Annabelle thanks her grandmother and sister and friends, but especially Marissa. That was probably a twist of the knife for Lady Julie.
It’s party time! Marissa and Lady Julie ride out together, pondering which Annabelle will arrive? Will it be Happy Me or Angry Me? Personally I’m hoping for Messy Me. Juliet and Annabelle, an unlikely pair, are getting ready together. Last week, Annabelle was showing cleavage, this week she’s showing leg. You go, girl.
You know it’s a party when the male hookers show up wearing only white tennis shorts on a cold winter night. But the evening would not have the dramatic score required for a Bravo finale so Lady Julie and Annabelle hash it out one more time about the disappointment Lady Julie caused Annabelle by not being there for her in her time of need. Lady Julie apologizes yet again. Finally they get their drink on and jump into the pool. Let the naughtiness commence.
Here are the final thoughts from each of the ladies:
Julie Montague – She’s been through a lot. She hasn’t saved Mapperton, but she’s on her way and now wants to focus on being the best Lady Julie she can be. No word on her JUB or HSP.
Marissa Hermer – It’s been an amazing year. She’s been growing her family and growing her business. She wants it all and plant to get it. No word if her hot dogs have taken England by storm.
Caroline Fleming – Is really at peace and feels healed and hopes her journey of healing can help others. No word on her new baby or broken engagement with her young cub.
Juliet Angus – Has been working on her blog. Her passion for fashion is keeping her out of trouble. No word if she has any real clients.
Annabelle Neilson – Has signed a book deal for her “Me, Me, Me” collection and is really happy. No word if she’s found a boyfriend.
Caroline Stanbury – Is going back to the drawing board. No word on her next endeavor – though we know it won’t be mummy-hood.