The Parish rush-hour was not yet over, however, and as they stood outside the hotel in the chilling, soaking December rain, Kathy experienced a sudden moment of panic in case they should be unable to get a taxi. But they were lucky, and had scarcely been waiting for more than thirty seconds when one drew into the kerb. A minute later they were on their way to the airport, and Natalia was smiling because everything, so far, had gone smoothly—it was going to be all right.
They drove along by the Seine. There were a thousand lights reflected in it, and Kathy thought how beautiful it was, and wished that she could have seen a little more of Paris. The bridges spanning the river were like something out of a fairytale, and she could see the floodlit outline of Notre Dame ...
It was very cold in the taxi, but the children didn’t seem to mind, and Kathy thought how very well behaved and amenable they both were. Nina was asleep on her own lap, but Joachim sat between her and his mother, his dark eyes wide open, staring through the windows at the lighted streets of Paris, never saying a word. She thought he was the most self-possessed child she had ever encountered, and wondered how fond he was of his mother, and whether he ever wondered at the crazy, unexpected things she did. Whether it occurred to him, for instance, to think it strange that they were now going to fly off in an aeroplane, without his nanny and, in fact, without any of the people, with the exception of his mother and Nina, who normally made up his life.
Once she felt in the darkness for his small, gloved hand, but as soon as she tried to take it in her own he snatched it away, and she wondered whether he disliked her ... or whether he was simply a very independent small boy.
At the airport, formalities were got through quickly and simply. Natalia had an account with the airline which they were using, and everything was made as smooth as possible for them. Because the airport buildings at Le Bourget were rather small it was not possible for them to await the departure of their flight in a private room, but the public lounge was not crowded, and even Natalia had no qualms about being seen by the few people who were already assembled there. Air stewardesses smiled at the children as they walked across the room, and an elderly American gentleman in a far comer beamed benignly at the slightly sleepy Nina, who gurgled disarmingly back at him.
Their flight was announced, and for a few moments they were out on the tarmac in the chill, wet evening air. And then the warmth of the plane swallowed them up, and for the second time in one day Kathy prepared to fly from one capital to another.
CHAPTER FIVE
THERE weren’t many passengers on board the aircraft, and the few there were seemed largely preoccupied with their own affairs. This was a relief to Kathy, if not to her employer as well, for during the flight from London the understandable curiosity of other passengers about the royal party had become rather embarrassing, and at one point Natalia had even been approached with a request for her autograph. But tonight they were quite undisturbed, and as the great silver-winged airliner roared into the black, starless sky and headed southwards towards the Italian frontier, both children fell easily and naturally asleep, and a few minutes later, rather to Kathy’s surprise, their mother followed their example. When she was asleep she looked extremely young, and for a while Kathy sat watching her, wondering about her, and what her future would be like, whether there could be anything behind her fantastic fears and suspicions, or whether her own imagination was her worst enemy. And then she sat back and stared up at the dimly seen roof of the passenger cabin, and thought about Leonid, the Princess’s brother-in-law. He seemed so hard, so impenetrably cold, and yet Natalia had said that he was very kind, and she herself had seen how suddenly his dark eyes could smile, lighting up their shadowy depths with a tremendous warmth. He had been cruelly, quite unnecessarily rude to her in the foyer at Ransome’s, when she had been saying goodbye to Miss Harbury ... But she had seen him smile, and it lingered in her memory. She hoped he would not be angry with her for letting the Princess leave Paris without her escort ... she thought that if he were really angry it would probably be unbearable.
She was falling asleep now, and her eyelids were getting heavy, but in front of her she still seemed to see a pair of smiling eyes. She didn’t want to do anything to stop them smiling ... Very slowly they faded away, and then she was fast asleep.
When Kathy awoke it was nearly an hour later, just after a quarter past eight, and a stewardess was bending over her. She was speaking very softly, and Kathy realized that she didn’t want to awaken the Princess, who was still slumbering peacefully, her pale hair falling in a shining cascade across her face.
“Miss Grant, we are to make an unexpected landing at Genoa. I do not know why ... I expect there is some technical reason. There is nothing the matter with the aircraft, of course—nothing at all to worry about. Will you tell Her Highness?”
Kathy nodded, pulling herself upright. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”
The stewardess disappeared, and Joachim, who had been curled up in the seat opposite his mother, stirred and sat up. He rubbed his eyes, which looked huge and tired and over-strained, and Kathy smiled at him. She thought he ought to be in bed, and wondered whether she should ask the stewardess for some hot milk. But just at that moment Natalia awoke too, and Kathy thought that perhaps, in a minute, she would ask her about the milk.
For a moment Natalia stared about her sleepily, then she opened her handbag, and taking a comb out began to drag it through her tousled hair. Staring at her own reflection in the mirror of her compact, she laughed and looked mischievously sideways at Kathy. “I wonder what my maid would say to me now?” she pondered.
Kathy smiled, and hoped the cheerful mood would last. She picked up her own bag and began to repair her make-up ... then she suddenly remembered about the touch-down in Genoa. She told the Princess about it, and didn’t notice the little silence that fell as she herself went on powdering her nose, and frowning over the application of her rose-pink lipstick.
Suddenly, Natalia said: “There isn’t anything wrong, is there ... really?”
“Of course not, madame ... of course not.” Kathy put her lipstick away in her bag, and snapped it shut. “The stewardess was quite definite. She didn’t know why we were landing, but there is nothing wrong.”
“No, no, I see. But why ...? I wonder ...” She was tense again, and almost inaudibly Kathy sighed.
And then a voice began to address them over the loudspeaker.
“Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes’ time we shall be landing in Genoa. Please fasten your seatbelts. No smoking will be allowed aboard the aircraft until after we have landed.”
And monotonously, the message was repeated in other languages. “Mesdames, messieurs ...” “Signore, signori ...” They fastened their safety-belts, and through the windows they began to see the lights of Genoa. On one side Kathy caught a glimpse of shining water, and knew that it was the Mediterranean. She wondered how long they would have to wait, and whether they would be asked to leave the aircraft. That wouldn’t be very good for the children.
The plane shuddered to a standstill, and in the sudden silence as the engines were cut only one or two quiet voices could be heard speaking.
And then a stewardess—the same stewardess who had spoken to Kathy earlier—came up to them. She smiled at the Princess deferentially.
“Madame, if you would like to leave the aircraft ... there is a gentleman ...”
“I will see no one.”
Natalia’s eyes were wide, her face suddenly ashen, and she was so plainly terrified that Kathy felt embarrassed.
“Her Highness does not—” she began, and then she recognized the man who was just entering the plane through a door at the other end of the long cabin. And at the same moment Natalia recognized him also, and Kathy heard her gasp.
“Leonid!” she whispered, and slowly the colour flooded back into her face, until it was deeply, rosily red.
Kathy fumbled with her safety-belt, but she couldn’t undo it. Her fingers seeme
d numb, and deftly the stewardess helped her with it before stepping back as the Prince walked down the gangway towards them.
“Leonid, I ...” Natalia seemed practically incapable of speech. Instinctively, Kathy stood up, and she felt the Prince’s eyes dwelling on her coolly for a moment. Then he bowed, almost imperceptibly, to his sister-in-law.
“It is so fortunate, petite, that I was able to stop your plane. There is something that I feel you should know. I was sure you would not wish to continue on your way once you had heard my news. A small matter, but it could delay you for a day or two ...”
He was speaking English, probably for the benefit of the stewardess, and one or two of the passengers looked round at him in curiosity. Everybody naturally wondered what was going on, and one or two people called for a stewardess to come and explain the situation. Leonid bent closer to his sister-in-law, and said something softly in a language which Kathy was beginning to recognize as Tirhanian. Natalia swallowed, but her colour was already beginning to return to normal, and she clutched at his hand and spoke rapidly in the same language. He answered in what seemed a decidedly soothing tone, then he straightened and looked at Kathy.
“Her Serene Highness and her children are leaving the aircraft,” he said, and his voice was cold and detached. “They will be spending the night at a villa a few miles from Genoa. No doubt you will be accompanying them.”
He was angry with her. In fact, he was furious. Kathy felt herself swallowing nervously, just as her employer had done. Quietly, she said: “Yes, Your Highness.”
Two stewardesses helped to remove their light luggage from the rack, and meekly Natalia stood up while the Prince placed her coat about her shoulders. Nina was crying again, and Kathy picked her up, then held out her free hand to Joachim, who obligingly grasped at it this time without the smallest hesitation.
All the formalities of landing were, of course, got through with the maximum amount of speed, and outside the airport’s main entrance a long white Jaguar was awaiting them. As Kathy relaxed on the rear seat with Nina on her lap, she realized for the first time that her head was aching, and she was grateful for the darkness inside the car, and for the fact that Leonid was sitting in the front beside the chauffeur, with his back to her. But she could just see the hard, angry outlines of his profile, fitfully illumined by the brilliant Italian street lighting, and it seemed to her that even the set of his shoulders expressed icy displeasure. She looked away from him, and out through the window at the tall white blocks of flats and the brightly lit cafes, and wondered how long she would be in Italy—how long, in fact, she would remain in Natalia’s employment. Leonid was certainly her real employer, and Leonid had quite obviously made up his mind that however much she might please his sister-in-law, she was not a fit companion for a young woman who, as he had once said, required to be ‘protected at all times’, a childlike young woman who was, in his opinion, quite incapable of looking after herself. A young woman who, above all, was his own near relative—his responsibility.
So far, he had explained nothing—or at least he had explained nothing to Kathy—but quite obviously someone had told him about the Princess’s flight from Paris, had managed to reach him, and stop him, before he had got too far on his way to take any personal action. And then he had interrupted his own journey so that he could have Natalia’s plane brought down in Genoa.
Idly, Kathy wondered where they were going now, but she was really too tired, and too bewildered, to feel any very great interest. It was almost impossible to believe that only a little over twenty-four hours earlier she had simply been a receptionist at Ransome’s Hotel in London. Since then so many things had happened to her that her memory was beginning to play tricks on her, and the jumble of impressions which filled her mind was so confused that she found it almost impossible to sort it out. Had she really flown from London to Paris and from Paris to Genoa? Had she really acquired a fantastic new Parisian wardrobe ... a wardrobe which was at this moment lying in one of the most luxurious hotels in the French capital, waiting to be sent on to her? She remembered the midnight-blue evening dress, and wondered whether she would ever see it again. Not that it worried her very much, for the clothes she already possessed were really quite adequate for the sort of life she normally led, and would probably be leading again in a few days’ time, and as she didn’t feel she had any right whatsoever to the enormous salary cheque she had received she didn’t feel she had any right to keep the clothes either.
It had all been a strange, vivid dream—a rather confused dream—but soon it would be over, and she would be back in London, looking for another job. She didn’t suppose she would ever regret what had happened, for after all it had been a marvellous experience, or she supposed it had. But she did hope that it would all be over quickly, and that she would be able to leave for home in the morning.
For about ten minutes the car moved along broad, brightly-lit streets, and across handsome squares, and she supposed that they were travelling through the city of Genoa. Although it was now nearly midnight the streets were still very busy and packed with buses and gleaming Italian cars, but after a time the traffic thinned a little, the noise and confusion grew less, and glancing to her right Kathy saw that they were travelling along by the very edge of the Mediterranean. It was much warmer here in Italy than it had been in Paris, and the sky was clear and star-studded. A slender young moon hung over the harbour, and a ship that looked like a cruising liner lay at anchor a little way out, swimming in the reflection of its own myriad lights. Even above the roar of the car’s engine it was possible to hear the heavy sighing of the waves on the unseen beach, and Kathy felt suddenly, strangely soothed. It was so peaceful, leaning back against the deliciously comfortable upholstery of the car, watching the faintly gleaming sea go by. Perhaps everything would be all right after all ...
She was almost asleep when the car suddenly turned off the road, and as she awoke with a start she realized that they were passing between tall iron gates. Beyond the gates lay a drive, a winding, narrow drive that was bordered by a dense profusion of unfamiliar trees and shrubs, and which climbed steadily for about a quarter of a mile before finally coming to an end in front of a house, a house which was long, and low, and rather Moorish-looking, and which was a blaze of golden light. A flight of steps led from the gravel sweep in front of the house to a doorway which was set rather high up in the wall, and at the foot of these steps the car came to rest.
Leonid got out. Framed in the doorway at the top of the steps was an elderly woman, and with hands outstretched he walked quickly up to meet her. She was certainly well over seventy, and she leant rather heavily on a thin ebony cane, but nevertheless as the Prince reached her she sank down in a skilfully executed, old-fashioned curtsy, and it was only when he had helped her up and hugged her with surprising enthusiasm that she became less formal, and kissed him on both cheeks.
By this time the chauffeur had opened the rear doors of the car, and Leonid came down to help his sister-in-law alight. She had hardly spoken a word during the journey from the airport, and she looked white and tired. He took her arm and helped her up the steps, and at the top the older woman received them. They all vanished into the house, and Kathy supposed that she and the children had better follow their example. They seemed to have forgotten about the children, both of whom were fast asleep in the back of the car. She lifted Nina out, and the chauffeur, who was middle-aged and kindly, took Joachim. Together they climbed the steps, and at the top Kathy stood still. But immediately a feminine voice uttered an exclamation, then addressed her in the strange tongue which was probably Tirhanian. It was the old lady whom the Prince had hugged, and as Kathy looked at her uncomprehendingly she made a little, clucking sound, and tugged at an old-fashioned bell-rope which hung beside the door.
“But of course, you are English! An English governess, yes? I am sorry, my dear, at first I did not realize ... But one has only to look at you! Come in, come in, and bring the poor little ones. To th
ink I had forgotten them!”
Kathy stepped over the threshold into the warmth and brightness of a large square hall. The floor was of white marble, strewn with colourful rugs, and there was a lot of heavy, ornate furniture about, giving the place rather the look of a museum. Or so it seemed to Kathy, as she stood just inside the doorway, almost swaying on her feet ... and still holding the slumbrous Nina.
From somewhere at the back of the hall a small, neat maid appeared, and the old lady gestured towards Kathy and the children and said something rapidly in Italian. In English, she added: “Rosa will show you where the children are to sleep. And then, when you have put them to bed, she will show you your own room.”
As Kathy looked faintly bewildered the old lady added: “The Princess has already been taken to her apartments. If you should wish to speak with her, Rosa will show you where she is.”
It seemed utterly pointless to protest that she was not the children’s governess—in any case, as Natalia and Leonid had abandoned them to her care, that seemed to be precisely what she was ... for the time being, at any rate. And somebody had to look after them.
So she thanked the old lady, who said something in Italian to the chauffeur who was still carrying Joachim, and together they followed the maid along endless corridors—there was no staircase, and almost every room in the villa seemed to be on the one floor—until they reached a long, white-walled room which had obviously been fitted up as a children’s night-nursery. It contained three narrow white beds, two of which had been made up and turned down for the night, and the tall windows were guarded by white wooden shutters. A deep, soft ice-blue carpet covered every inch of floor space, and there were little white basket-work chairs, and a bookcase full of gaily-bound children’s books.
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