The Lost Sapphire

by Belinda Murrell

  Everyone who Violet had met at the Russian Club had agreed to attend, and Katya had helped Violet plan a list of entertainment. Two days before the ball, Imogen’s dress was delivered, but Violet’s was not yet finished. She worried that Katya had set them an almost impossible task to have it finished in time.

  At last the day of the ball arrived. The girls spent all day with the committee at Town Hall, directing florists and delivery men. Finally, everything was done.

  In the late afternoon, Sally came into the drawing room where Violet and Imogen were sitting, reading over their checklist. Sally was carrying a large oval box tied with turquoise ribbon.

  ‘A delivery has just arrived for you, miss,’ Sally explained, her face alive with curiosity.

  The box was printed with an intricate design of peacocks, ferns and flowers in turquoise, cobalt blue, emerald green and lavender. Printed on a plaque on the side was a curlicue script that read: Maison de Mademoiselle Perrot.

  ‘They used my peacock design for the hatbox,’ Violet said with delight.

  ‘Of course they did, Violet,’ replied Imogen. ‘It’s gorgeous.’

  Violet felt a thrill of pride to see her drawing printed as professional packaging. ‘It must be my new dress,’ she said, unknotting the satin ribbon. ‘It’s finally arrived. I was certain it wouldn’t come in time.’

  Inside the box, wrapped in tissue paper, was the seafoam-green ball gown with its intricate peacock detailing. Violet pulled it out and held it up to look at it. ‘Oh, Imogen, isn’t it divine?’

  ‘Yes, but there’s more,’ said Imogen, looking inside the box.

  Violet drew out the other items one by one – a cream velvet clutch bag, long cream satin gloves and a sumptuous cream velvet evening wrap.

  ‘Goodness,’ Violet cried. ‘They’ve made all the accessories to go with it.’

  Imogen stroked the thick silk velvet wrap. ‘It’s utterly gorgeous.’

  ‘There’s a note,’ Violet said, pulling out the folded notepaper.

  Dear Miss Hamilton,

  Thank you for everything you have done for our family. You have made us feel truly welcome in a strange new land. May you feel like a Russian princess tonight.

  Yours truly,

  Katya Khakovska

  Sally gathered up the items in the hatbox. ‘I’ll take the clothing upstairs and hang it all up, miss, so it’s ready for you when you get dressed.’

  ‘Lovely, Sally,’ Violet said. ‘I’m coming up now to bathe. It’s time to get ready.’

  After Violet had towelled off, dressed in her underwear and done her make-up, she sat in front of the mirror, wrapped in her colourful silk kimono. Sally stood behind her, arranging her copper hair into sleek finger waves with the curling iron.

  ‘How is your mother?’ Violet asked.

  ‘We all went to see Ma in hospital on the weekend. She’s allowed visitors now, an’ looks so much better, though the doctor says she must stay in bed for weeks.’

  ‘I’m so glad.’ Violet dabbed on some perfume. ‘I was wondering, Sally, do you like your job here?’

  ‘Yes, miss, of course,’ Sally replied, looking flustered. ‘Why do you ask? Have I done somethin’ wrong?’

  ‘No, you’re not in trouble,’ Violet assured her. ‘I just wondered if this is what you truly want to do?’

  Sally put down the curling iron and thought for a moment. ‘This is a good job for a girl like me, from Richmond. I get paid so I can help my family, an’ I get food an’ board. One day I’ll work my way up to head housemaid, an’ then a proper lady’s maid. One day I might even be a housekeeper like Mrs Darling, or become a cook, or perhaps find a sweetheart and get married.’

  ‘Was there ever anything else you thought you’d like to do?’ asked Violet. ‘It’s hard work being a housemaid.’

  Sally pushed a diamante slide into Violet’s hair to help the finger waves hold.

  ‘It’s hard work being anythin’ when you’ve left school at twelve,’ Sally replied. ‘When I was fourteen an’ started workin’ here, it was the first time I’d had a full belly, the first time I’d slept in a bed by myself, and the first time I’d had boots an’ clothes that weren’t patched an’ hand-me-down. It seemed like fair luxury to me.’

  Sally went to the wardrobe and took out the seafoam-green peacock gown. Violet stood up so Sally could drop the gown over her head and fasten the multitude of tiny buttons running up the back.

  ‘I see what you mean,’ Violet continued. ‘Have you ever wished that you’d stayed on at school?’

  Sally shrugged. ‘I couldn’t say, miss. There wasn’t any choice – I had to leave school to help Ma with the cleanin’ and washin’. But Nikolai has lent me some books to read, and he’s helped me with my learnin’. He said I’m quick with the lessons, although mostly I’m too tired to do much at the end of the day.’

  Violet felt uncomfortable when she thought of Nikolai teaching Sally. Surely she wasn’t jealous that Nikolai was kind enough to help Sally with her lessons. ‘I have lots of books you could borrow if you want to read them.’

  Sally put the cream satin dancing shoes down for Violet to slip her feet into and buckled up the straps.

  ‘That’s kind, miss,’ Sally replied. ‘Nikolai’s very clever. He says one day, when he’s saved enough money, he’s going to university to study law.’

  ‘Nikolai would be capable of anything he turned his mind to,’ Violet replied warmly. So that explains the textbooks.

  Violet pulled on her long satin gloves and Sally did up the tiny buttons. Then Sally passed her the cream velvet wrap and bag. She was ready.

  Violet descended the stairs, the silk skirt billowing around her ankles in contrast to the stiffly beaded straight bodice. She walked past the locked tower door and imagined her mother watching from the doorway with loving approval.

  A glimpse in the gilt-framed hall mirror confirmed that she looked as elegant as she felt.

  Mr Hamilton was in the drawing room, dressed to go to his club. Imogen was already down, looking bewitching in her midnight-blue ball gown, complete with the double strand of pearls and her engagement ring worn over her long black evening gloves.

  ‘Are you sure you won’t come with us, Daddy?’ Imogen asked.

  ‘Thank you, girls, but my ball days are over,’ Mr Hamilton replied. ‘I’m sure it will be a brilliant success.’

  Nikolai drove them to the Hawthorn Town Hall, with its soaring sandstone clock tower. He would drop Mr Hamilton to his club in Collins Street before returning. The girls jumped from the car and hurried up the steps to the ornamented portico. The inside foyer had been transformed into a garden with potted palm trees, foliage twisted around pillars and urns filled with masses of hot-pink and orange roses.

  Violet’s Russian fairytale paintings, inspired by Nikolai’s book, had been hung on the walls. One showed twelve princesses dancing at the secret ball until their shoes fell apart. Another showed the witch Baba Yaga being out witted by Vasilisa the Beautiful. She had also painted Father Frost in a snowy forest, a shaggy grey wolf and the flaming Firebird soaring through the sky.

  The girls passed through into the vast green-and-cream ballroom, admiring its polished parquet floor, elaborate chandeliers and arched mirrors. Trailing green foliage was draped from the galleries and stage. Banks of potted palms lined the corners, along with urns over flowing with creamy roses. Violet felt a thrill of excitement to see how her concepts and sketches had turned into a beautiful reality. Her first real ball would be a night to remember forever.

  Audrey, Dodo and Edie were directing some workmen who were putting the finishing touches to the floral arrangements. Audrey had booked one of the best jazz orchestras in Melbourne, and they were setting up on stage.

  ‘There you are, cheries,’ called Audrey. ‘You both look adorable.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Violet replied. ‘So do you.’

  ‘Violet, I do love your dress,’ said Edie. ‘Wherever did you get it?’

>   Violet twirled, making the skirt billow. ‘From a new designer called Maison de Mademoiselle Perrot,’ she said airily. ‘They made Imogen’s dress too. It was so hard to choose – they have such gorgeous gowns.’

  Edie and Dodo took a closer look at Imogen’s dress.

  ‘I must look them up. Could you give me the address tomorrow?’ Edie asked.

  ‘Of course,’ Violet replied, lowering her voice. ‘But only if you promise not to tell anyone. It is rather a secret find.’

  Dodo immediately looked intrigued. ‘Could you give me the details too, Violet? I promise not to tell anyone. I’m going to Sorrento for Christmas and I’ll need a whole new wardrobe.’

  ‘They are rather busy,’ Imogen added. ‘But perhaps if you mentioned that you are special friends of ours, they might be able to fit you in.’

  Audrey waved her hand. ‘I have a feeling that Mademoiselle Perrot will be the talk of the ball with you two as her celebrity models.’

  Edie and Dodo went to wait in the foyer for the first guests to arrive, while the others examined the supper rooms.

  Several smaller rooms were filled with dozens of round tables set with starched white tablecloths and napkins, glittering silver and crystal glasses. Each table had a centre piece of golden candles and sweet-scented roses in blood red and snow white. At the far end of the main supper room, set on a table, was a massive ice sculpture inspired by the onion domes of Russian churches. It was surrounded with delicate pastries, fruit and petits fours.

  ‘Doesn’t the ice sculpture look wonderful?’ Violet asked.

  ‘All the decorations are marvellous, Vivi,’ said Imogen. ‘I just knew you’d do a brilliant job.’

  ‘We’re very much obliged to both of you,’ said Audrey. ‘We couldn’t have done it without you. Tonight will be a huge success, I just know it. But now we’d better join the reception line to welcome our guests.’

  A long queue of motor cars had pulled up at the steps of the Town Hall, dropping off guests. The men were dressed in white ties and tailcoats, the women in long ball gowns in a rainbow of jewelled colours. In the foyer, uniformed waiters took the guests’ coats and top hats. Each lady wore a dance card on a string, with a small pencil attached, so she could write down the name of the gentleman to whom she was promised for each dance.

  At 8.30 pm the orchestra began playing a Viennese waltz. Immediately the dance floor was filled with dozens of couples of all ages, swirling around the room. Other guests watched from the side and the galleries above. Violet’s dance card was quickly filled, and she twirled and jazzed nonstop with a succession of amiable young men.

  At ten o’clock, Madame Belinskaya took the stage to perform a number of passionate gypsy songs to huge applause, followed by Madame Lopokova, who danced an exquisite ballet solo.

  Aleksandr, Stepan and Ivan ran onto the stage dressed in baggy black trousers, black caps, white shirts, red sashes and swords. The three Cossacks performed the acrobatic hopak dance – leaping, twirling, sword-fighting and shouting with joy. The finale was their fast and furious display of high kicks from a squatting position, which had the audience cheering and clapping. This was followed by a balaika performance. Violet applauded harder than anyone, beaming with pride. The Russian entertainment had been an outstanding success.

  The orchestra struck up the opening chords of the mazurka. Seven Russian couples promenaded out onto the ballroom floor. The men, including Stepan, Ivan and Aleksandr, wore white tie and tails, while the women, including Tatiana, Katya and Anastacia, wore vibrant evening gowns in cerise, orange, cobalt, cyclamen and raspberry with matching long satin gloves.

  The crowd pressed back against the ballroom walls to give the dancers space.

  Nikolai appeared from somewhere in the throng, now changed into a white tie, tailcoat and vest. He bowed low in front of Violet and extended his hand.

  ‘May I have the pleasure of this dance?’ he asked with a mischievous smile.

  ‘But Nikolai … I can’t dance the mazurka properly. I’ll spoil it.’

  ‘You’ll spoil it if you don’t dance. You know it looks better with eight couples.’

  Violet glanced around, looking for a way to escape. ‘But –’

  ‘I dare you,’ Nikolai challenged.

  Violet finally relented, taking Nikolai’s outstretched hand, and together they promenaded out onto the ballroom floor to join the others.

  The dancers formed two circles of four couples each, bowing and curtseying to the partner on either side. Then the joyful dance began. Hand in hand, everyone galloped clockwise. With a lively clicking of heels and stamping of feet, they changed direction to counter-clockwise. The colourful skirts flounced and swirled. Nikolai guided Violet through the dance so that her steps were sure, even when she thought she’d forgotten what came next. Violet felt light and graceful as she floated in his arms.

  Nikolai went down on one knee and Violet danced around him. Too soon, the music slowed and the partners bowed and curtseyed to signify the end of the performance. The audience clapped, then the orchestra swung straight into a popular foxtrot.

  The audience surged into the middle of the ballroom. Violet moved to leave the dance floor, but Nikolai took her hand. ‘Just one more?’ he asked, and then whisked her away.

  The male singer began to sing the familiar words to ‘Angel Child’.

  As they wove through the crowd, Violet glanced over Nikolai’s shoulder and saw Imogen dancing with Tommy. Imogen threw her head back and laughed at something he’d said. The joy on her face was infectious.

  Violet smiled up at Nikolai. ‘I’m so very glad you came to Riversleigh.’

  Nikolai looked serious as he thought for a moment. ‘You know what, myshka? I’m very glad too. The old world and the old ways are dying. I think the new world and the new ways are filled with endless possibilities.’

  Nikolai spun Violet around in a pirouette. The ballroom revolved around her in a golden glow of candles, chandeliers, roses and shimmering gowns. The singer crooned: ‘Do you love me too?’

  Violet laughed – who knew what joys and troubles the future might hold? Whatever else happened, she felt sure that her life would always be full of adventures. And Nikolai would hopefully be by her side through them all.

  26

  The Ballroom

  Riversleigh, modern day

  The sun beat down from a clear, blue sky. Lorikeets squabbled over the bottlebrush in the shrubbery. The fairy wren and his brown mate were building a dome-shaped nest of grass, threaded through with spider web, almost hidden by the undergrowth.

  Marli and Luca were working in the gardens at the rear of Riversleigh. Luca was trimming the box hedge, wrestling it back into shape. Marli was weeding the stone urns along the western terrace, thinking about the dilemma swirling around in her head: Dad had lost his job and wanted to bulldoze the old house and build apartments.

  The phone in her pocket rang, interrupting her reverie. Marli checked the screen. It was her friend Evie, calling from Brisbane. She answered the phone, walking down the path towards the river, away from Luca’s noisy brush-cutter.

  ‘Hi, Evie,’ said Marli warmly.

  ‘I haven’t heard from you for a while, so I thought I’d give you a call,’ Evie said.

  ‘How’s it going up there?’ Marli asked. ‘Have you been having a great time?’

  Evie snorted. ‘I wish! It’s been deadly boring and stinking hot for the last few days. I don’t feel like doing anything much but lying on the couch in the air-conditioning and watching TV.’

  ‘How’s Tess? Have you been to the beach?’

  ‘Okay, I guess,’ said Evie, sounding annoyed. ‘We went to the beach last week, but we had a bit of a fight so she’s been hanging with Ruby. They just walk around the mall all day.’

  Marli stood on the shady bank of the Yarra River, a cooling breeze ruffling her hair. Down below, two rowers in a narrow skiff shot across the water, leaving ripples in their wake. From here, Richmond o
n the opposite bank was completely hidden by a grove of thick trees. Marli felt a long way from her old life.

  ‘That’s not much fun,’ Marli said sympathetically. ‘Maybe you should just give her a call?’

  ‘What about you?’ Evie asked, not sounding particularly interested. ‘Are you still having an awful time with your dad?’

  ‘No, it’s been great, actually.’ Marli thought for a moment. ‘I told you about the boy I met, Luca. We’ve been having an awesome time exploring the old house and finding out about the family who lived here. And Dad and I are getting on much better now.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Evie. ‘That’s good.’ There was another pause. ‘Anyway, I better go. Charlie’s coming over to watch a movie soon. I’ll catch you later.’

  ‘Bye, Evie. Say hi to the others for me.’

  Marli put the phone in her pocket and walked back up the path towards Riversleigh. Evie’s call made her see things differently. Nothing much seems to have changed back home. I thought they’d all be having an amazing time, but Evie sounds bored and annoyed.

  She walked across the lawn towards the terrace. Luca finished trimming the hedge and turned off the brush-cutter. He wandered towards her and gazed out over the sunken rose garden, breathing in deeply.

  ‘Did you fertilise the roses?’ asked Luca, wrinkling his nose.

  ‘Nope,’ Marli replied, turning to check.

  ‘Well, someone has tipped bags of cow manure around the rose garden. And if it’s not you, then I’m guessing Nonno might have had something to do with it.’

  ‘Mmmm.’ Marli pushed her silver bangle up her arm. ‘So then, was it you who planted the seedlings in the kitchen garden?’

  Luca shook his head and laughed. ‘Wasn’t me. I suspect Nonno just couldn’t help himself. He must have discovered the side door unlocked.’