Chapter 4 – Meeting the Junes
Gwenny June has blond hair, and Roger June loves everything about that hair and everything about the woman connected to it. He likes blond hair in general, which probably goes back a long time to some Beach Boys' song about blond babes in the California sunshine. He loved those songs when he was a kid, and that sort of stuff stays with you as an adult. But right now he looked across the hotel dining room at a woman with black hair, and he loved it, too. If Gwenny wasn’t present at his table he would have kept staring at Laleh because she was a dark haired knockout of some indeterminate ethnicity. He was lucky that when he came back to look at his wife there was no decline in the beauty factor.
The dark haired woman was alone, which Roger thought was a pity. She looked uncomfortable, first reading the food menu and then reading the wine list. Roger was curious as to what wine she would select, because he was a wine connoisseur, and he and Gwenny were drinking a $300 bottle of Pommard. Roger said, “I wish I knew what kind of wine that woman likes. I could help her pick a nice one. I bet the wine steward is going to stick it to her.”
Gwenny, whose back was to Laleh, said, “You mean the good looking Middle Eastern woman you’ve been staring at for the last ten minutes?”
“How’d you know about her?”
“She’s interesting. I noticed her when I went to the bathroom. I don’t think she understands the menu. She was reading the appetizers when I went out, and still was reading them when I came back. She has unbelievably beautiful hands. I wonder why she’s alone?”
“Maybe we should be friendly. Save her from getting skinned on the wine.”
“Maybe she wants to be alone.”
“Maybe.”
Just then the wine steward walked past the June’s table with the same bottle of Pommard they were drinking and approached the woman. He showed her the bottle and asked if she wanted it decanted or not. Roger could see she didn’t understand, and at the same time saw his opening. He winked at Gwen, rose from his chair, and walked over to Laleh’s table to stand next to the steward. Smiling, he said, “I see you are drinking the same burgundy my wife and I are drinking. Would you care to join us, and have a glass before your dinner?”
Other than the wiseass guy at the airport information booth and The Savoy staff, and her English language teachers at her schools, some of whom had been English but none American, Roger was the first westerner ever to speak to Laleh. She wasn’t exactly shocked; just sort of placed in suspended animation for a few seconds. A handsome man, speaking English to her, nice smile, ignoring the steward, was asking her something.
She returned to normal space and said, “Please?”
Roger carefully took the bottle of wine out of the steward’s hands, held it in front of her, turned slightly and pointed to Gwenny, and said again, slowly and gently, “Would you care to join my wife and I for a glass of this very nice wine?” Hearing her husband’s voice, Gwenny turned around in her chair and smiled at Laleh across the space.
Laleh thought, ‘This is nice, let’s go.’ She said, “Yes.”
Roger handed the wine back to the steward and said to him, “We may want that in a few minutes.” Then he moved behind Laleh’s chair and pulled it away from her as she rose, thinking the view was lovely. Gwenny also rose and motioned to their waiter for another chair. When they were seated, she said, “This is my husband, Roger June. I’m Gwen.”
“My name is Laleh.”
Roger poured the Pommard into her glass and said, “This is an earthy type of burgundy. I hope you like it. It goes very nicely with duck and the garlic roasted potatoes they have here.”
Instinctively Laleh knew to smell the wine first, and when she did, she realized what Roger meant by earthy. It smelled like raw mushrooms and forest floor. Then she sipped, and frowned. She sipped again, and the frown lessened. She smelled, and her expression showed neutrality. Then she sipped again, and smiled. “It doesn’t taste like grapes. Why?”
Gwen said, “It’s better than grapes. It is better than grape juice. It’s wine.”
Another sip, the last in the glass, and Laleh said, “It’s much better than grapes.” She smiled, first at Gwen and then at Roger, and said, “I would like some of this with the duck and potatoes. Please.”
Gwen knew the duck would take a while to prepare, and she knew Laleh might feel awkward at a table with strangers, so she immediately ordered a bottle of Cedric Bouchard rose champagne, a dozen oysters, and a small plate of dates stuffed with goat cheese. The wine and food would give them something to talk about while they got to know one another. But Laleh didn’t feel awkward; she felt curious. Here she was sitting in a fancy hotel in London with two of her country’s greatest enemies. At least she thought they were Americans, because they hadn’t said that yet. They hadn’t really talked a lot, and hadn’t asked her any questions about herself, which pleased her, as she thought the interrogative was a rude form of conversation. She figured they were Americans simply because they didn’t sound like the few English she'd heard and talked with at home. Gwen poured the champagne and Roger divvied up the oysters and dates onto three small plates.
Gwen said, “These are Cancale oysters….the best. So good with champagne. Watch yours carefully or Roger may try to steal one. He’s a pig for oysters and champagne.” Her eyes twinkled at him, and Laleh could see she was teasing. She watched Roger slip one down the hatch and follow it with a slurp of the Bouchard, and she followed his example. Then she watched Gwen do the same with one of the dates, and she followed that too. How could a drink go so well with the brininess of the oyster and the sweetness and creaminess of the date and cheese? But it did.
Laleh said, “You are the ones who should watch your food, because I am tempted to steal one of each thing from you. These are delicious. Will the burgundy go as well with the duck as the champagne with the oysters?” Roger nodded. “Then I am very pleased to meet you. If you are Americans, that will be a first for me, along with earthy tasting burgundy.”
Gwen nodded, and said, “We come to England at least every three years to do two things: visit Chartres Cathedral and visit the Victoria and Albert Museum. Looking at the architecture of Chartres keeps our standards of art high, and the V&A is just such a joy. Have you been to either of those?”
“I’ve only been here a day, and it’s my first time in England.” Laleh wondered if she should tell the Junes anything about herself, including where she was from, but she decided she wasn’t going to live a life of fear, so she said, “I flew here from Tehran yesterday, and I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying. Maybe I can see this church and this museum. I don’t really have a plan for what I’m doing here.”
Roger was eyeing one of the dates on her plate, and hoping the duck was forthcoming soon, but looked up at her when she said this. It was so unusual. Doesn’t everyone have a plan all the time for what they are doing? But he too believes that asking questions is not civilized conversation, so he refrained from asking her what she was doing in the dining room of The Savoy, and instead said, “We’re going to Chartres tomorrow afternoon. You’re welcome to join us.” Gwen nodded affirmation, but Laleh didn’t say anything. She ate the last date on her plate, and sipped the rose. What was she going to do tomorrow? What should she do? Was she safe? Was she free? How would her new life begin? If it was anything like eating oysters and drinking champagne with two friendly and attractive enemy Americans, she hardly could wait.
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