Brilliance (35 page)

He took it from her, glanced at the headline of the article she had indicated, and shook his head. ‘Not in our time,’ he said confidently. ‘The Kaiser has inflated ideas of his own importance, twirling his moustache and liking to be seen in that ridiculous helmet.’

She remembered seeing the Kaiser in the movie that Jim had taken of Queen Victoria’s funeral procession. The German emperor was the son of an English princess, would he consider going to war against his own mother’s country? Yet power-mad rulers cared only for their own ruthless ambitions and it seemed to her that everything was very much in the balance. It was a sobering thought.

The journey passed. She and Philippe lunched together in the dining car. She noticed as she had done the previous day that he kept reminding her of various good times they had had in the past, almost as if he thought those memories would eliminate all that had parted them.

When they arrived in Paris Philippe’s chauffeur was waiting with the car. After taking her into her hotel Philippe waited until she gave him a farewell nod from behind the gilded grid of the lift as it took her from his sight. Then he went to the reception desk and spoke to the clerk there before signing the register. He had made sure that the suite he had booked for himself would be on the same floor as hers.

As soon as Lisette had refreshed herself after the journey she took a cab to the House of Paquin where mannequins paraded for her. Not having been in Paris for some time she was restocking her wardrobe and chose four daytime gowns and two for evening. Before returning to the hotel she went to a wine merchant whom her father had patronized in the past, and bought a truly superb cognac as a gift for Daniel, knowing how much he would enjoy and appreciate it. Then, having had such a full day, she decided to dine quietly at the hotel, choosing to wear a black evening gown that she had worn to several of Joanna’s parties and which had been unpacked for her.

The head waiter bowed to her as she entered the restaurant, which sparkled with chandeliers and crystal on damask.

‘Good evening, Madame Shaw.’

Then he guided her to a table where Philippe in white tie and tails rose to greet her.

‘How did you know I would be dining here this evening?’ she demanded impatiently as she sat down in the chair being held for her.

‘I didn’t, but I hoped you would, and in any case I have dined here several times during my stay.’

‘Your stay? Here in this hotel?’

‘Yes, it’s the best in Paris. Where else would you expect me to take a suite? I told you my own home is uninhabitable at the present time.’

‘But you said that your wife expected you to be living there throughout the alterations.’

‘I do what I please, Lisette.’

She smiled wryly. ‘Oh, yes, Philippe. I know that very well.’

He grinned at her persuasively. ‘Come on, Lisette. This should be an evening of celebration for you. I’ve arranged with the school that I take the boys out to luncheon tomorrow.’

She caught her breath, her eyes bright with joy. ‘Oh, thank you, Philippe!’

He held her gaze for a moment, highly pleased by her reaction, and seeing that all boded well for the rest of the evening. After dining they talked for a while before he saw her to the door of her room and bade her goodnight. He felt as if he were playing a salmon at the end of a fishing line. Only when the right moment was reached would he be able to land his catch.

In the morning Lisette set out for the House of Worth on the rue de la Paix where she ordered several more beautiful garments such as only a Parisian couturier could produce. Then it was time to meet Philippe and the two sixteen-year-old boys. As the doorman swung open the door to the Grand Cafe she saw the three of them rise to their feet from where they had waited for her. She saw at once that Maurice was indeed her father’s child. It was not only because of his fair hair, height and sturdy stance, but because he was so like a portrait of her father as a young man, which had hung above the fireplace in the library.

Maurice watched Philippe go forward to greet her. His mother had never mentioned her, but he had known from others that he had a half-sister and had even seen one of her movies. He had calculated that Lisette was thirty-two, but she looked very young and slim as she came towards him and was even more beautiful than she had appeared on the screen.

‘I’m so happy to see you again after so many years, Maurice,’ she said gladly as he bowed over her hand.

‘I’m honoured, madame,’ he said stiffly.

‘Call me Lisette,’ she said eagerly.

He had not been looking forward to this meeting, but the warm friendliness that emanated from her caused him to smile broadly and relax, unaware that he was tilting his head exactly as his father had done when particularly pleased. ‘Yes, I will, Lisette.’

For no reason at all they both laughed as if already a bond had been formed between them. Philippe had warned him that if he should wish to see his half-sister again he must never mention this meeting to his mother and already he knew he would keep silent.

At luncheon Philippe again showed unusual thoughtfulness by having booked a separate table, giving Lisette and Maurice a chance to sit by themselves and get to know each other. This was a personal sacrifice for Philippe as his godson bored him utterly. Every time his gaze wandered from the nearest pretty women to their table he saw that Lisette and Maurice were talking animatedly and laughing together.

She was pleased to discover that Maurice was quick and intelligent with various interests that included archaeology. The previous year he had been to the tombs in Egypt with a small party from school, led by the headmaster, and on another occasion he had worked at a dig on the site of a Roman villa. Tennis was his sport and he hoped to go mountaineering during his next vacation.

‘I’m keen on photography as well,’ he said confidentially, ‘and my stepfather gave me a very good camera on my birthday last year, but motion pictures interest me most of all. We’re not supposed to go to movies during term time, but I have managed it sometimes.’ He grinned broadly. ‘I skipped lessons once to see you as Joan of Arc.’

‘Did you get into trouble over it?’

‘Yes, but it was worth it. You are a splendid actress.’

‘Thank you, but remember that I have an exceptional director in my husband, Daniel. It was also his idea to release “Jeanne d’Arc” with French subtitles for France.’

‘I should like to hear how he decides to direct various scenes. Where does he start?’

She answered his questions as fully as she could and there was always another query to follow about the movie world. So many of his facial expressions, his way of raising an eyebrow, reminded her so much of their father that she suddenly broke off what she was saying. ‘Oh, Maurice! You are so like our father!’

He looked surprised. ‘Am I? What sort of man was he? Mother has never talked to me about him. She just fusses over my stepfather and I have to call him Papa. But then she has never spoken about you either.’

It saddened Lisette that Maurice had grown up knowing almost nothing about the man who had been so proud of him. So she did all she could to fill in some of the very wide gaps, telling how their father had introduced her to Paris and all its arts and treasures out of his own enjoyment of everything beautiful and of historical interest.

‘He read a great deal, which is why there’s such a fine library at the château, some of the books he collected being very rare. I know from what my grandmother told me,’ she continued, ‘that he was also a keen sportsman in his youth, although by the time I went to live at the château he had put on weight and his favourite sport was betting on the races at Longchamps.’

‘I’ve never seen a photograph of him, although there is a painting of him when he was young that hangs in one of the corridors near the servants’ quarters. I don’t think my mother wants to remind my stepfather too often of her previous marriage. Unfortunately for her I’m sometimes around.’ He made a cheerful grimace and shrugged his shoulders, causing Lisette to guess that he had become used to it over the years.

‘I should like so much to keep in touch with you, Maurice,’ she said. ‘Do you think we could correspond with each other sometimes?’

‘Yes, I would like that, Lisette. Please let me know all that is new in the movie world and be sure to tell me when you are coming back to France again.’

‘I will do that,’ she promised.

The luncheon came to an end. When the two boys had been delivered back to school Lisette expressed her thanks to Philippe. ‘I appreciate so much what you did for me today,’ she said warmly.

‘Does this mean that all in the past is forgiven?’ he asked quietly.

‘That happened a long time ago,’ she answered.

‘I needed reassurance.’ He took up her hand and kissed it. ‘Let me take you to the opera this evening. I have two tickets for the best box in the house. It’s “The Marriage of Figaro”. Remember that we went to a performance together with friends when all was well between us? It could bridge those unfortunate times in between and banish them for ever.’ Before she could reply, he added. ‘Surely this is not too much to ask?’

She knew it to be emotional blackmail, but she was in a happy mood and the theme of the opera would match it very well. She agreed to go.

They sat in the best box and she enjoyed every moment of the performance. Afterwards they had supper together in the gilt and sparkle of Maxim’s. Back at her hotel he saw her to the door of her room as he had done the night before.

‘No, I can’t lunch with you tomorrow or see you at any other time,’ she said, refusing his invitation. ‘I have some motion picture business that will keep me busy all day.’

It did take the whole day, for she was taking note of an important historic location for Daniel’s film about Marie Antoinette. She started early in the morning by taking a cab out to Versailles. Only a very few of the palace’s great rooms were open to the public, for much of it was used as offices, but she was able to go into the Hall of Mirrors. Reflected by its many mirrors, she gazed up at the murals on the ceiling that had been darkened by time and neglect. This once magnificent hall, as with everywhere else on view, was devoid of its glorious chandeliers, its draperies and all the fine furniture that had once made the great palace the jewel of France. She hoped that one day her countrymen would be enlightened enough to restore it to its full beauty.

Afterwards she went down to the lake and into the park’s secluded glades where in the heyday of royalty before the Revolution open-air balls, banquets, masquerades and theatrical productions had been held. Coming upon Marie Antoinette’s charming little summerhouse she looked through its windows. She remembered her father bringing her here and then showing her the nearby leafy grove where the tragic Queen had been given the warning that the mob was marching on Versailles. How terrified the poor woman must have been as she fled back to the palace.

When Lisette arrived back at the hotel she was quite tired after a full day’s sightseeing at the palace and throughout its vast park, but as she kicked off her shoes and lay down on the suite’s chaise longue she was well satisfied with her day. She felt that having reabsorbed Marie Antoinette’s surroundings she would be able to play far better the role of the tragic Queen.

It was just as she was about to order a light supper to be brought to her suite that the telephone rang. It was Philippe issuing an invitation that took her by surprise.

‘A magic lantern show?’ she exclaimed with amusement. ‘I thought the movies had put an end to them long ago.’

‘This lanternist is said to be the best ever, which is why his shows can still attract audiences. Surely you’d like to see the performance and judge for yourself whether he comes up to the standard that you remember?’

She was tempted. It would be interesting to compare this lanternist’s technique with Daniel’s and see what new ideas were being presented. ‘I think I would,’ she replied.

The venue was a large private mansion with marble pillars, floors and statuary, A party of about a hundred well-dressed guests was in full swing with an orchestra playing for dancing. In a side room a long buffet table was heaped with various delicacies. The hostess, her face highly painted, her diamonds sparkling and her cleavage well revealed, welcomed Lisette as effusively as if they had known each other for years.

‘I expect she has seen you on the movie screen and thinks she knows you,’ Philippe said by way of explanation, taking a glass of champagne from the tray of a waiter and handing it to Lisette before taking one for himself. She thought he was probably right.

They went to join other guests helping themselves at the buffet, for Philippe was hungry and so was she, having had nothing since breakfast, except for an apple that she had taken with her to Versailles. Already she had felt some effect from the champagne, but not as much as Philippe, who had most certainly been drinking heavily in the hotel bar before meeting her after she had descended in the hotel lift. As they ate he also constantly emptied his glass for a refill and wanted hers topped up too. She thought he was feeling some regret that she would be leaving in the morning, for they had had a pleasant time together.

‘Let’s dance,’ he said, taking her hand as they left the buffet, and he twirled her on to the floor. They had always danced well together and even though he was quite drunk he did not miss a step.

‘What time is the magic lantern show?’ she asked, noticing that an ormolu clock showed it was almost midnight, She was regretting that she had come, for he was holding her far too tightly and watching her with drunken amorousness through his lashes.

‘It’s on now,’ he answered. ‘It’s a continuous performance.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she said in exasperation. ‘We’ll take a quick look and then go.’

‘What’s the rush?’

‘You seem to have forgotten I’m leaving for home early tomorrow morning. My train to Calais goes at nine o’clock.’

He put an arm about her waist. ‘We’ll fill up our glasses once more and then we’ll go and watch the pretty pictures.’