“Where else? Ah, bonjour, Mathilde, ça va? You’re looking well.”
“Merci, Madame.”
“Come in, Clarissa, she’ll take care of it. It’s lovely in the garden at this hour—the last roses are still blooming. But perhaps you’d like to freshen up first?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“Are you? Really?”
“I think I will be. Though you’re right—when you reached me in Paris, I was at something of a low point. I was actually thinking about going back and facing the music. But you convinced me that old and grey though I am, it may not yet be time to fade away. So I came.”
“And I am so pleased. I hope the train was not too distressing?”
“It was perfectly comfortable. I’m glad you suggested the Train Bleu—not only convenient, but filled with the most entertaining people.”
“Americans, yes? Quite mad, all of them, but they can be charming. Here, take this chair, the view will soothe your spirits.”
“My spirits are already much soothed by being here.”
“How long have we been anticipating this day?”
“Do you know, I think we talked about living in Monaco the very first winter I knew you. Forty-nine years ago.”
“Forty-nine? Impossible! I refuse to believe it was longer ago than last summer.”
“Says the white-haired lady.”
“And you, Clarissa—you had your hair cut off!”
“I’m not used to it yet, I keep reaching up to adjust my pins. I haven’t had short hair since I was a child.”
“It’s terribly chic. That’s from Paris, too?”
“I had to convince the coiffeur that I wanted the same cut as the young woman beside me. He tried to talk me into a Marcel wave, and couldn’t believe I wanted it bobbed.”
“It’s just as well you didn’t ask for an Eton crop, he’d have fainted dead away.”
“No doubt. As it was, he charged me a ridiculous amount. In fact, I went through a great deal of money in Paris, altogether.”
“New hair, new frock—a totally new you.”
“I even replaced all my undergarments.”
“A solid investment. There’s nothing like new lingerie to boost a woman’s self-esteem. And you’re here now, so your room, my kitchen, Mathilde’s car—my clothes, even, should any of them fit you—are yours for as long as you like.”
“Thank you, dear, but I mustn’t abuse your hospitality. I’d like to set up on my own, as soon as possible.”
“I’ve been asking around, as you suggested on the telephone—though what you said was very mysterious.”
“One doesn’t like to go into detail with the Exchange listening in.”
“I know—it’s so bad here in little Monaco, no sooner do you hang up the earpiece than the doorbell rings with someone who’s heard the news.”
“I figured that would be the case. And I’ll go into details later, when you and I are quite alone.”
“We’re alone here. There’s only Mathilde, and she’s well accustomed to secrets.”
“There’s no hurry, merely something I wanted you to think about, in case you have a friend who knows something about money. Not a banker, necessarily, but someone who—”
“Ah, tea! Mathilde, I see you managed to get some of those adorable little macarons from Madame Renault—clever girl.”
“My, look at that spectacular tea-tray. Mathilde, you are an artist. How did you guess that I haven’t had a decent cup of English tea since I left Sussex eight days ago?”
“Thank you, Mathilde, we’ll pour, you go on and hang up Clarissa’s things before they are crushed beyond salvation. Clara, dear, is anything locked? Do you want to give her the keys?”
“Oh, there’s just the one little valise that’s locked, never mind that, it’s mostly papers and a book. Nothing that needs hanging. Thank you, Mathilde.”
“Here, I’ll be mother—I hope you don’t mind India tea. What were we talking about? Oh, yes, bankers. I may have just the man.”
“Another time. Let me just enjoy sitting still and being with you.”
“Indeed, plenty of time to talk business when you’ve had a rest. But you’re not needing to arrange a loan, are you? You did say you had a little money, yes?”
“I have plenty to get me started, thanks. Just not enough to keep me going—not in Monaco.”
“It is an expensive sort of place.”
“There’s a rather intriguing possibility that I want to talk to you about—or I suppose, four of them. But that’s terribly complicated and we both need to have our wits about us when I explain.”
“Sounds exciting—but yes. Take some days to catch your breath. I have set up a few appointments and introductions. People you might find useful—a few of those charming Americans, and a local boy who is not only highly decorative, but terribly useful. He’s new since your last visit. You’ll just adore him.”
“I knew I could count on you.”
“Now, do take one of those pretty little macarons. They’re absolutely to die for.”
It was fortunate I hadn’t drunk more than a glass of the Murphys’ wine. As it was, I staggered to my feet in astonishment—but had enough of my wits about me to spot the warning in Mrs Hudson’s eyes and the sharp little shake of her head. My exclamation made it no further than my front teeth, and though I swayed with reaction, I managed to stop myself from leaping across the bamboo mats to throw my arms around her.
But the others were staring at me in astonishment. Seconds passed before realisation flooded in and I looked down at my sodden front. “Bite,” I managed to choke out. “Or sting—something. Not sure—anyway sorry. Um. Maybe a refill?”
Gerald laughed as he reached for the bottle. “A body sure does feel the booze fast in hot weather,” he remarked, retrieving my glass and filling it again.
Talk resumed. Mrs Hudson ate a biscuit. Sara went back into one of the picnic bags and came out with a basket of luscious purple grapes, passing them around. I drank my wine and surreptitiously studied the woman in the blue dress.
Had it not been for that warning shake of the head, I might have wondered if this was Mrs Hudson’s well-groomed twin sister, but no: behind the plucked and darkened eyebrows and the touch of colour on her lips, it was her profile, her lifted chin, the straight line of her back and the age spot beneath her left ear—all were precisely what I had last seen driving away from our home at the end of May.