Three Weeks in Paris (29 page)

Anya shrugged, shook her head, and murmured in an equally quiet tone, “I don’t really know … but not very much, I’m sure.” There was a slight hesitation on her part before she added, “But don’t forget, he and Larry knew Lucien first. It was actually Larry who introduced him to Jessica. It might be worth asking him a few questions, you know.”

“Nicky’s okay, but I can’t say anything to him because I don’t trust Maria. She might tell Jessica, and that would be disastrous.”

“She doesn’t even know where Jessica is staying,” Anya murmured.

“Where is she staying?”

“The Plaza Athénée.”

Tom looked back up the stairs, frowned, and called to them, “Come on, Alexa, Anya—Nicky and Maria are waiting for us in the dining room.”

The two women descended the staircase, and when they were finally in the entrance foyer, Anya hurried forward, exclaiming, “Sorry, my dears, I’m afraid I’m a little stiff today, Alexa was helping me down the stairs. Sorry I kept you waiting.”

“That’s all right,” Nicky said, came forward, and took hold of Anya’s arm, led her into the dining room, which overlooked the cobbled courtyard and the garden. To reflect the outside, which was so visible through the windows and the French doors, Anya had used a color scheme of light and dark greens, accented with touches of white. With its billowing white organdy curtains at the windows, dark parquet wood floor, and masses of
white flowering plants, the room looked fresh, airy, and cool.

Pausing at the circular table, made of highly polished yew wood and surrounded by five Louis XV chairs upholstered in a green-and-white-check fabric, Anya rested one hand on a chair and said, “Maria, come and sit at my left, and Tom, please take the chair at my right. Alexa dear, sit down next to Tom, and Nicky, you can sit between Alexa and Maria.”

Smiling broadly, she lowered herself into her chair. “I think that works very well,” she continued, and looking across at Nicky, she said, “Would you pour the white wine for those who want it, and there’s a very nice red to have with the main course.”

Nicky did as he was asked, and he had just finished filling their glasses with white wine when Honorine came into the room carrying a large tray. She was followed by her daughter, Yvonne, who held a smaller tray in her hands. Yvonne nodded, murmured a quiet greeting, and followed her mother to the serving table.

Within minutes they had all been served with an individual cheese soufflé and were soon exclaiming about it, pronouncing it delicious. And at one moment Nicky announced, “It’s as light as a baby’s breath.” Everyone laughed at this expression, and the ice was broken a little, but Anya noticed as this first course was being eaten that Alexa and Maria carefully avoided speaking to each other. However, Tom and Nicky had lost no time in getting properly reacquainted, and they were now chatting enthusiastically about the movie industry in general.

She herself turned to Maria and began to talk more fully about her paintings, while Alexa was soon drawn into Nicky’s conversation with Tom. He was holding forth on the new film about Mary Queen of Scots, and Tom was
obviously fascinated, listening attentively as Nicky explained about the preproduction plans that were slowly coming together.

After the empty soufflé dishes had been cleared away, Nicky served the Mouton Rothschild to everyone except Maria, and Tom poured the mineral water. Not long after this, Honorine came back with a platter of roast leg of lamb, followed by Yvonne with a dish of steamed vegetables and roasted potatoes. When they had been served, the two women left the dining room, but a second later Honorine returned with the gravy, which she placed on the table.

Anya asked her to bring the other sauce, and then explained to them, “I’m very English when it comes to my roast lamb … it’s my upbringing, I suppose. I like it thinly sliced and covered in mint sauce.” She laughed. “The French usually shudder when they see me eating it this way.”

“It’s because they can’t imagine why anyone would want to put a sauce made with vinegar on their meat,” Nicky pointed out, and grinned at her. “And as you know, I eat mine exactly the same way.”

The conversation at the table was rather mundane as the main course was eaten and enjoyed, the red wine savored, the water drunk. Looking at each of them from time to time, Anya was pleased that they were all here with her today, and that there was an air of civility at the table. She realized quite suddenly that Maria appeared slightly more ill at ease than Alexa. And it struck her that Alexa had undoubtedly spoken the truth when she had blamed Maria for the trouble in the friendships, but it had been so long ago, she wished they could forget about it. As for Maria, she was such a brilliant artist, it was almost criminal to let her rot in a textile company in Milan. But then, Anya knew it was none of her business … she could only hope Nicky was going to be the girl’s knight in shining
armor, that he would rescue her from a terrible kind of servitude.

————

ONCE LUNCH WAS OVER
, Anya asked everyone upstairs for coffee, and once again they moved en masse to the floor above.

Anya was pouring the coffee when Tom, hovering over her, asked, “Could I use your phone, please, Anya?”

“But of course,” she said, and glancing at Alexa, she went on: “Show Tom into that little den down the corridor, Alexa, please. He can use the phone in there.”

Alexa nodded, took hold of Tom’s hand, and accompanied him out of the room. Once they were in the corridor leading off the main landing, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. As he released her, he said, “Let’s forget about the movie we talked about seeing later. Why don’t we go back to my place instead?”

Alexa smiled up at him adoringly. “You’ve got a deal, Tom Conners.”

“The best one I’ve ever made,” he shot back.

Still smiling, Alexa pushed open the door of the den and said, “Don’t be too long.”

As she walked back to the upstairs sitting room, Alexa wondered whether to say anything to Nicky about Lucien Girard. Normally she would have done so, but Maria’s presence was acting as a deterrent. Very simply, she still didn’t trust her. More often than not in those days, Maria’s mouth was open and her foot was usually in it.

How she had changed in her appearance, though. With a tendency to overeat, she had looked slightly plump all the time she had attended Anya’s school. Her face had been lovely but her body too fleshy for a young woman.

Now, if she wasn’t yet svelte, she was well on the way to
becoming so, and her startling face and her mane of hair gave her a kind of movie-star glamour. Penélope Cruz sprang to mind, and that image was instantly reinforced when Alexa walked back into the sitting room.

Maria was standing near the window, looking casually elegant in burgundy slacks, silk shirt, and matching woolen jacket, the black hair streaming down her back; her face, in profile, was stunningly beautiful.

No wonder Nicky fell for her, Alexa thought, sitting down next to him on the sofa. It was obvious to Alexa that he had fallen completely under Maria’s spell.

Hook, line, and sinker, she thought as she picked up her coffee cup and took a sip, then glanced at Nicky. “I can’t wait to see the script, and once I’ve read it, Tom will drive me down to the Loire. He feels sure there are any number of houses that would be a perfect setting for the film.”

“He’s right. Maybe we’ll all go down for a weekend,” Nicky suggested.

Alexa gaped at him. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

Nicky exclaimed, “Oh, I know you’re angry with Maria. She’s told me all about it. And frankly, I think it’s about time you both grew up and behaved like the mature young women you are. It’s nonsense, carrying a grudge like that!”

“Hear! Hear!” Anya exclaimed. “It’s time to move on.”

Maria walked slowly toward the fireplace, looking nervous, hesitant; then she sat down on the edge of a chair and said in a low voice, “I’m sorry, Alexa, for causing you so much trouble. Truly regretful. But I was young, I didn’t mean—”

“You betrayed me!” Alexa snapped, determined not to give an inch as she remembered how hurt she had been all those years ago.

“I didn’t mean to! It was an accident. An error on my part. I’ve always been … so very sorry, Alexa.”

Alexa glared at her. “I was never interested in Riccardo. That was all your imagination. And you blew it into a huge … atomic cloud! Into something so enormous, you incited Jessica to action, and she told me off in the most awful way. She took your side, believed you, and she stopped being my friend. Actually, Maria,
you
destroyed my friendship with Jessica.”

“I’m so very, very sorry, Alexa,” Maria apologized again. Her face had turned a ghastly white, and she appeared contrite, worried.

“You were jealous of our friendship, if the truth be known,” Alexa shot back. “Jealous to death.”

“I wasn’t. That’s not true.” Maria now looked as if she were on the verge of tears.

“That’s enough, girls,” Anya said in a strong, firm voice. “I want you both to come over here for coffee tomorrow morning. And I’ll have Jessica and Kay here as well, and we’ll straighten this out once and for all. I don’t want my party spoiled because you four are quarreling. So let us shelve the matter. This is not an appropriate time.”

At this moment Tom walked back into the room, and from the look on his face Alexa realized his father had told him something he found interesting. She was certain he wanted to share it with her.

She said, “It’s all right, Tom, you can talk in front of Nicky and Maria.”

Surprised, he stared at her, his expression puzzled. He raised a brow questioningly.

Alexa nodded, then focused her attention on Maria. “We’re going to talk about something that has to do with Lucien Girard. But you cannot breathe a word of it to Jessica. Do you understand that, Maria?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t say anything to Jessica … or anyone.”

Nicky, intrigued, asked, “What’s all this about, then, Tom?”

Tom looked at Alexa once more. She inclined her head, and he explained, first telling them how it all started, with the photo in Alexa’s album.

“Oh,” Maria gasped, staring at Tom. “So Lucien’s still alive?”

“We don’t know,” Tom said hastily, and continued. “The whole idea is a bit flimsy, I must admit, although a couple of things my father said intrigued me. The two men
could
be one and the same.”

Nicky sat up straighter on the sofa, frowning. “I didn’t know Lucien all that well, Tom, but I don’t think he was the kind of man to … how should I put it? Lead a double life, play games. Anyway, who is it that so resembles him?”

“A man called Jean Beauvais-Cresse, who’s in his early thirties. Earlier, I’d more or less decided that he might be related to Lucien. Perhaps Lucien was a brother using a stage name. Lucien could have been a cousin. However, my father told me that Jean’s only brother died about seven years ago.”

Maria and Alexa exchanged glances, but neither of them uttered a word.

“What else did your father say?” Anya asked.

“He told me that the brother was the eldest son, and that he was killed in a terrible accident. My parents didn’t live in the Loire then, so this is sort of … local gossip, and Dad didn’t have all the details. The brother’s tragic, untimely death caused the father to have a stroke. Apparently he was very attached to the son who died. He was the heir to the title, the lands, the château. Jean, the younger son, was a bit of a black sheep, so my father once
heard. He’d been living in Paris for a number of years, and came back only when his father was stricken, to look after him. He inherited everything when the old man died. That’s all Dad could tell me.”

“But don’t you think it sort of fits in with Lucien’s disappearance?” Alexa asked. She was convinced it did, and she held Tom’s eyes, endeavoring to convey this to him.

He nodded. “The time frame is certainly right,” he said cautiously.

Nicky said, “Let’s just go over it. Seven years ago, Lucien Girard disappears, never to be seen again. Seven years ago Jean’s elder brother dies unexpectedly, so that Jean becomes the heir. But what if Lucien, working in Paris as an actor and using a pseudonym, were the eldest son and met a terrible fate? As everyone has always believed Lucien did.”

“I thought of that,” Tom answered. “But my father said the eldest son was much older than Jean. By about fifteen years, a son by another wife, the first wife.”

“So Lucien and Jean
could
be one and the same person,” Anya stated.

“Bearing in mind the extraordinary resemblance and the similarities in age, yes.
Possibly.
” Tom now sat down in a chair and continued. “But it’s an awkward situation at best, Anya. My father said he’d make a few discreet inquiries, and I’ll talk to him tomorrow. In the meantime, no one should say a word to Jessica. It wouldn’t be fair. Either to her or Jean Beauvais-Cresse.”

“What we need is someone who can verify that Jean was an actor in Paris at one point in his life, and that he used a stage name,” Alexa said. “Then we’d have something more concrete to go on.” She let her eyes settle on Nicky.

“Oh, no, not me!” he exclaimed. “I hardly knew Lucien. And actually, Larry didn’t know him well either.”

Anya settled back against the sofa, closing her eyes for a moment. Something had stirred at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. And so she let it go. For the moment.

“LET’S GO FOR A WALK,” TOM SAID AS THEY LEFT ANYA’S
house and came out onto the street.

“Great idea,” Alexa agreed, falling into step with him. “Like you, I love the Seventh. It’s my favorite part of town.”

Tom smiled and took hold of her hand, tucked her arm through his, and together they headed in the direction of the rue de Solferino and the quays running parallel with the river Seine.

It was warmer now and sunny, and the sky above was a clear blue arc, unblemished, without cloud, and benign on this May Sunday afternoon.

The Seventh Arrondissement where they were walking was an elegant area of the city, and Tom’s apartment in the Faubourg Saint-Germain was located nearby. Also in the vicinity were such landmarks as the French Academy, the École Militaire, and the Hôtel des Invalides, wherein was housed the tomb of Napoleon. But Tom and Alexa bypassed most of these historic buildings as they headed onto the Quai Anatole France.