Oh, no, were much too stuffy, muttered Helena.
I didnt say that. But there is a certain British attitude. God is an Englishman, that sort of thing.
You mean He isnt? Reggie interjected.
Helena didnt laugh. I just think, she said, that a certain amount of order and discipline is needed for the world to function properly.
Nina glanced at Reggie, who was noisily slurping his whiskey. Yes, I can see you both believe in discipline. No wonder the evening was such a disaster.
We werent the ones who blurted out the truth, snapped Helena.
At least I was sober enough to know what I was saying! Nina declared. They would have found out in any event. After Reggie there let the cat out of the bag, I just decided it was time to be straight with them about Bernard and Madeline.
And look at the result, moaned Helena. Hugh says Beryl and Jordan are flying to Paris this afternoon. Now theyll be mucking around in things.
Nina shrugged. Well, it was a long time ago.
I dont see why youre so nonchalant. If anyone could be hurt, its you, muttered Helena.
Nina frowned at her. What do you mean by that?
Oh, nothing.
No, really! What do you mean by that?
Nothing, Helena snapped.
Their conversation came to an abrupt halt. But Anthony could tell his mother was fuming. She sat with her hands balled up in her lap. She even ordered a second martini. When she rose from her seat and headed down the aisle for a bit of exercise, he followed her. They met at the rear of the plane.
Are you all right, Mother? he asked.
Nina glanced in agitation toward first class. Its all Reggies bloody fault, she whispered. And Helena s right, you know. I am the one who could be hurt.
After all these years?
Theyll be asking questions again. Digging. Lord, what if those Tavistock brats find something?
Anthony said quietly, They wont.
Ninas gaze met his. In that one look they saw, in each others eyes, the bond of twenty years. You and me against the world, she used to sing to him. And thats how it had felt-just the two of them in their Paris flat. Thered been her lovers, of course, insignificant men, scarcely worth noting. But mother and son-what love could be stronger?
He said, Youve nothing to worry about, darling. Really.
But the Tavistocks-
Theyre harmless. He took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. I guarantee it.
Three
From the window of her suite at the Paris Ritz, Beryl looked down at the opulence of Place Vend me, with its Corinthian pilasters and stone arches, and saw the evening parade of well-heeled tourists. It had been eight years since shed last visited Paris, and then it had been on a lark with her girlfriends-three wild chums from school, whod preferred the Left Bank bistros and seedy nightlife of Mont-parnasse to this view of unrepentant luxury. Theyd had a grand time of it, too, had drunk countless bottles of wine, danced in the streets, flirted with every Frenchman whod glanced their way-and thered been a lot of them.
It seemed a million years ago. A different life, a different age.
Now, standing at the hotel window, she mourned the loss of all those carefree days and knew they would never be back. Ive changed too much, she thought. Its more than just the revelations about Mum and Dad. Its me. I feel restless. Im longing forI dont know what. Purpose, perhaps? Ive gone so long without purpose in my life
She heard the door open, and Jordan came in through the connecting door from his suite. Claude Daumier finally returned my call, he said. Hes tied up with the bomb investigation, but hes agreed to meet us for an early supper.
When?
Half an hour.
Beryl turned from the window and looked at her brother. Theyd scarcely slept last night, and it showed in Jordans face. Though freshly shaved and impeccably dressed, he had that ragged edge of fatigue, the lean and hungry look of a man operating on reserve strength. Like me.
Im ready to leave anytime, she said.
He frowned at her dress. Isnt thatMums?
Yes. I packed a few of her things in my suitcase. I dont know why, really. She gazed down at the watered-silk skirt. Its eerie, isnt it? How well it fits. As if it were made for me.
Beryl, are you sure youre up to this?
Why do you ask?
Its just that- Jordan shook his head -you dont seem at all yourself.
Neither of us is, Jordie. How could we be? She looked out the window again, at the lengthening shadows in Place Vend me. The same view her mother must have looked down upon on her visits to Paris. The same hotel, perhaps even the same suite. Im even wearing her dress. Its as if-as if we dont know who we are anymore, she said. Where we spring from.
Who you are, who I am, has never been in doubt, Beryl. Whatever we learn about them doesnt change us.
She looked at him. So you think it might be true.
He paused. I dont know, he said. But Im preparing myself for the worst. And so should you. He went to the closet and took out her wrap. Come on. Its time to confront the facts, little sister. Whatever they may be.
At seven oclock, they arrived at Le Petit Zinc, the café where Daumier had arranged to meet them. It was early for the usual Parisian supper hour, and except for a lone couple dining on soup and bread, the café was empty. They took a seat in a booth at the rear and ordered wine and bread and a remoulade of mustard and celeriac to stave off their hunger. The lone couple finished their meal and departed. The appointed time came and went. Had Daumier changed his mind about meeting them?