The Girl Who Made Them Pay

by Tikiri Herath

  In a baritone voice as deep and rich as the stones on her fingers, she spoke. “I hope everyone is present now. One must never be late for dinner,” she said, speaking in perfect Queen’s English. A polite murmur went through the crowd. The baroness panned the room, making everyone bow and curtsy lightly as her eyes passed over them.

  “Härzlëch wëllkom,” she said and paused. We waited. Then, she embarked on a fifteen-minute formal speech in German, or so I assumed, as it sounded exactly like the language Greta spoke.

  While she talked, I peered around discreetly.

  Where’s the Dragon Lady?

  I felt eyes on me and swiveled my head around. It was Chef Pierre. He saw me looking and winked. I gave him a quick nod back. That was when I noticed. Five feet from him, looking majestic in a long white evening dress, stood the infallible Madame Bouchard.

  On her hands were long black gloves, and around her neck a three-strand pearl necklace. Dropping from her ears were beautiful pearl droplets. She seemed to be listening intently to the baroness, one hand holding a sherry glass and the other a sparkling white purse. I didn’t know she spoke German. I wondered if all the foreign guests just pretended to understand these formal speeches.

  I looked around to see where Chloe was. She was standing in the shadows of the wall next to the same old man as the day before, both pretending to be invisible, scanning the room as usual.

  I looked back at the Dragon Lady. Now I was this close, my plan sounded ridiculous. What am I going to say to her? How am I going to even approach her? I looked over at Chef Pierre, who was intently listening to the baroness. I wanted to talk to him so badly, ask him about his recipes, tell him about my baking life, and share my aspirations.

  Everyone clapped politely. The baroness bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment, and a man who looked very much like a white-haired Prince Phillip walked up and offered his arm. She took it, and the two stepped elegantly over to the dining table. The rest of the crowd got in line, two by two, behind the hostess and her escort. The servers pulled back the chairs at the dining table and waited for everyone to come to their places. It seemed no one could sit before the baroness did.

  The Diplomatic Dragon Lady sat right across from the baroness, with Chef Pierre to her left. The servers got to work silently. It was like watching a ballet come alive. They had choreographed everything.

  They picked up the covered plates from the table next to us and took them to the guests. When everyone was served, on silent cue, the servers leaned over in sync and swiftly removed the silver domes. I almost gasped. The plates had been meticulously arranged, like pieces of edible artwork.

  The dinner went off without a hitch. The baroness held court, leading the conversation from where she sat. Others nodded and replied in hushed tones. Empty trays and plates were whisked away, as course after course went by.

  A canvas of gourmet art passed under my nose that evening. All the food and cutlery on the table that night could have fed the entire state of Goa where I grew up. I’d now seen it all. The grim poverty of my parents’ childhood, the comforts of Mrs. Rao’s house, which had seemed luxurious until now, and the unparalleled sumptuousness of this castle.

  “Mademoiselle?”

  I looked up to see Chloe and instinctively straightened my chef hat.

  “It’s time to serve your cakes.”

  Chapter Forty-seven

  “Good evening, Madame Bouchard.”

  Using long silver tongs, I placed the most sumptuous strawberry and cream cupcake on her plate. I’d made it with cinnamon and nutmeg, a combination I knew she loved. I’d decorated this cake myself. It was the most beautiful edible thing on earth, or so I thought.

  She didn’t seem to hear me.

  The room hummed with conversation. In the far background, I heard something wail, a siren of sorts, but I was so focused on trying to get the Diplomatic Dragon Lady’s attention I didn’t take much note of it.

  I bent down. “Hello, Madame Bouchard.”

  She gave a start and looked up, her white pearl earrings swinging from her earlobes. She frowned.

  “I hope you’re having a great evening,” I said, with a smile.

  She looked me up and down as if to ask who had dared interrupt her meal. I swallowed and tried again.

  “This is one of your favorite cakes,” I said. “It’s got cinnamon and nutmeg in it.”

  The siren outside had got louder now.

  She looked at the cake on her plate and wrinkled her nose like it smelled bad.

  A server came toward the table carrying a water carafe and nudged me aside with an “Excusez-moi.” He filled her glass and left. I leaned in again.

  “Madame Bouchard,” I said in a low voice. “I’m really sorry I left without telling anyone. It was an emergency, a really bad one.”

  She didn’t even look up this time.

  “I hope your charity ball went well and you found another caterer. I truly apologize. I only came here today to ask for your help.”

  I thought I heard a dismissive sniff but couldn’t say for sure. She reached for her glass of wine with her gloved hand and took a sip. It was like I wasn’t even there. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Chloe move closer. I could feel her eyes boring into my back.

  “Does this young lady work for you, Madame Bouchard?”

  I looked up, startled. The chairs were close enough and Chef Pierre seemed to have the ears of a fox.

  The Diplomatic Dragon Lady replied in a crisp tone. “Many work for me around the world, monsieur. I do not recall every one of them.”

  I felt a breeze of Arctic air from somewhere and a shiver went through me.

  “Well, this young lady has a special talent, I can tell you. I might steal her from you, madame, if you don’t watch out.” He gave a hearty belly laugh.

  “I am not the least bit concerned, monsieur,” she said, putting her glass down with a gesture of finality. “I prefer help who know their place.” She paused. “Especially at official foreign functions.”

  A hand slammed down on my shoulder, and I was pulled away. It was Chloe.

  “Mademoiselle!” She turned me around violently. “Please return to your station,” she said in a sharp whisper. “Now!”

  “But—”

  “I’ve tolerated enough!” she hissed.

  Bang!

  The room fell silent. Chloe’s hand dropped from my shoulder. Everyone whipped around in their seats. A worried murmur rippled through the crowd.

  The two foot guards who’d been standing like statues at the doorway rushed toward the baroness. One of them whispered something in her ear and helped her out of her chair. Within seconds, she was whisked away through the doors.

  Bang!

  Again. This time, it was clearly a gunshot.

  Inside the dining room, chaos erupted.

  “Oh, my god!”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Terrorists!”

  “Someone do something!”

  “Don’t panic!” someone yelled with a distinct note of panic in his voice.

  Chloe tried to take charge. She walked over to the baroness’s empty chair and waved her arms. “Mesdames et messieurs, please take your seats. S’il vous plait. Security has been called. Please. We must stay calm.”

  But no one was listening to her. Half the people were getting up. Some walked over to the windows and peered out. A smattering of guests had decided to walk out of the room altogether, and a few sat frozen in their seats, looking like zombies. The Diplomatic Dragon Lady was on her phone, talking urgently, maybe to her security detail. Chef Pierre was fanning a purple-haired woman next to him who’d just fainted.

  Where’s Katy?

  I dropped my tongs and tray and dashed out to the mezzanine, dodging an elderly couple scurrying out of the ballroom. Two guardsmen ran into the room, almost bumping into me. Katy was standing at the top of the Cinderella stairway, holding on to the railing, peering down with a troubled look on her fac
e.

  “What’s going on?” I asked when I caught up to her.

  “Don’t know,” she said. “But I heard it from downstairs.”

  We looked at each other.

  “Do you think—?” She stopped, her face pale.

  Tetyana’s gun flashed to mind. A sinking feeling in my stomach said this had something to do with her. With us.

  “Let’s go find them,” I said. “This way.” I ran down the stairs.

  Katy scrambled after me. We got to the bottom of the landing, just as a small figure ran up to us.

  “Greta!” Katy and I called out at the same time.

  The girl’s face was flushed. She pulled at our elbows and said something urgently in German.

  “What is it, Greta?” Katy asked. “What’s going on?”

  The girl spoke rapidly, gesturing madly toward the castle kitchens. The only word I made out was police.

  “Hold it, Greta,” I said. “Tetyana? Okay?”

  She shook her head.

  Oh no.

  “Luc, okay?”

  She shook her head again.

  Katy and I looked at each other.

  “Win? okay?”

  She shook her head again.

  I felt sick to my stomach. The sound of men hollering came from the other end of the corridor. She grabbed us and pulled us into the shadows under the stairway. And there we remained quietly as a group of men stampeded up the stairs, shouting, Police!

  They’re after us! What have they done with the others?

  When the men reached the top floor, Greta pointed at a corridor nearby and pulled on our arms urgently. I threw down my chef hat and undid my apron. Katy followed quickly. We tiptoed out from under the stairway and turned into the corridor, following our young guide. It seemed like a commotion was happening upstairs now. A woman screamed. A man shouted.

  What in god’s name is going on?

  Glancing nervously behind us, Katy and I followed Greta.

  She walked softly but swiftly, keeping close to the wall. Thankfully, the carpet softened our footsteps. On one side of this corridor were full-length stained-glass windows and on the other side were doorways that led to the libraries and sitting rooms of the castle. I could smell the expensive cigars and velvet luxury as we walked by them. No one was in sight.

  Greta kept moving forward, a finger on her lips, stepping softly, panning the area, like a young tracker on a mission. Katy and I followed silently, perplexed. We had no choice but to trust her right now. The noise had receded and we hadn’t seen anyone else.

  At the end of the corridor was a massive wooden door, which was where Greta seemed to be leading us. When we got to the door, I reached to open it, but it was locked. But Greta wasn’t even looking at it. She opened a much smaller door nearby with a sign that said, “Härentoilette,” and stepped inside, motioning us to follow her.

  Katy and I stepped in after her, wondering what rabbit hole she was taking us into. We were in one of the castle toilets and around us were the plushest stalls I’d ever seen in my life.

  Greta walked up to the small window at the back, scrambled onto the sink to unlatch it and open it wide. We peered outside to the castle gardens. There was no one on this end of the grounds. Using her hands, Greta gestured for us to get out.

  “Through the window?” Katy asked.

  “But what about the others? Where are they?” I asked.

  Greta shrugged her shoulders. She had no idea what we were saying. I looked at Katy. Before we could say anything else, Greta jumped out of the window.

  “Wait!” I cried.

  “Oh, my god, is she okay?” Katy asked.

  “Komm häihin!” We heard Greta whisper urgently from outside. “Ech Kommen!”

  We had no choice. I clambered out and Katy followed.

  As soon as we were out, Greta made a motion to close the window. Katy pressed against it to make sure no one would notice it had been opened.

  We were now facing the woods on the other end of the castle where Luc had joked earlier that werewolves slept.

  From somewhere behind us on the castle grounds, we heard people shouting.

  “Laft!” Greta said, pointing to the woods. I stared at her. She gave me a push and pointed at the woods again.

  The voices were getting closer.

  Greta looked furious that we weren’t getting what she was saying. She stamped her foot down. Another push.

  “Police!” I heard someone shout from around the corner.

  “Laft!

  Katy and I bolted toward the woods, without a glance back.

  Part EIGHT

  One ship drives east and another drives west

  With the self-same winds that blow;

  ‘Tis the set of the sails

  And not the gales

  That tells them the way to go.

  Ella Wheeler Wilcox

  Chapter Forty-eight

  We stopped at the edge of the woods and ducked behind a massive oak tree.

  Peeking from behind it, I saw the strangest sight.

  Two police officers were running after a man we’d not seen before. Despite his girth and fancy shoes, he seemed to have a slight advantage on the officers. They disappeared around the corner, not even noticing the little girl in the Alice-in-Wonderland dress standing next to the castle doors.

  When the men were gone, Greta turned away and walked around the building, but not before giving a cheeky grin and a wave in our direction.

  Katy and I looked at each other, puzzled.

  We trod carefully among the trees and found a small opening to sit in. Katy removed her heels and rotated her ankles before putting them back on again, wincing slightly. We’d dressed to cater to a royal party, not run into the woods. The canopy above us was teaming with sparrows, their songs filling the air. They didn’t seem to notice the drama happening right under their beaks.

  “How did they know we were here?” Katy asked.

  I shook my head. “Can’t be Fred’s goons. These are cops. Did you hear the police sirens?”

  She nodded. “And two shots,” she said, looking at me with wide eyes. “I hope Tetyana didn’t get into a gunfight.”

  “The police don’t just shoot like that, do they? Unless she did something rash....” I paused, feeling a chill up my spine. “I hope she didn’t pull out her gun when she saw them coming.”

  “Maybe this is all something to do with her, not us,” Katy said thoughtfully. “We don’t even know where she’s been before, and her story’s a bit strange.”

  She had a point. We knew nothing about Tetyana and the little we did know didn’t fully line up.

  “But why were the cops chasing that man just now?” I said. “What does he have to do with us?”

  Katy shrugged her shoulders.

  Something rustled among the trees. We turned our heads around.

  Nothing.

  “We’ve got to get back,” I said. “We can’t leave them back there.”

  “Poor Win,” Katy said. “She’s probably scared to death. Hope they’re okay.”

  We got up, dusted our skirts and were ready to find our way back when we heard the sound. It was like a herd of wildebeest was stampeding our way.

  “Run!” I yelled.

  I grabbed Katy’s arm and ran through the trees, pulling her with me.

  “Stop!” someone shouted behind us. “Hey!”

  We didn’t look back. We kept running, zigzagging our way through the trees. I didn’t know if they were still following us, because all I heard was my heart pounding inside me like an angry African drum. I was sure we’d outrun them when Katy’s heel caught on something and she came crashing down with a cry.

  “Katy!” I stopped and rushed back to her.

  I knelt beside her. She clutched her foot and groaned. The sound of the others running came closer. I looked around desperately for a hiding spot. The best we could do was to get behind a large tree but I’d have to carry Katy now, and she wasn’t a
small girl.

  “Asha!”

  “Katy!”

  I swiveled around to see Win and Luc appear from between the trees and come dashing toward us. Win threw her arms around me, nearly bowling me over. Luc plopped on the ground next to Katy, panting mad.

  Everyone began to talk at once.

  “Are you okay?”

  “What happened?”

  “Did you see the police?”

  “Where’s Tetyana?”

  “Did Greta tell you—?”

  “Wait!” I said, shushing everyone.

  From the distance came the sound of a dog barking. We looked at each other in alarm.

  “Police dogs?” I said.

  “We have to move,” Luc said scrambling up. “They’ve got guns.”

  “Katy, how are you doing?” I asked.

  She massaged her foot. “Nothing major. Hurts a bit, but I can walk. I lost my shoe—”

  Without a word, Win plunked a pair of red canvas shoes on Katy’s lap. We stared at her as she rummaged around and brought out another pair and handed them to me.

  “How did you—,” I said, noticing Luc was carrying two of our bags as well.

  “No time to explain,” Luc said. “We gotta run.”

  “What about Tetyana?” I said, scrambling to put the shoes on.

  We heard the barking again.

  “We gotta go, guys,” Luc said, giving a worried look in the direction of the castle. “Now!”

  We got up and ran. We ran nonstop, dodging rocks, ducking under low-hanging branches, jumping over roots that jutted out of the forest floor, keeping an eye out for each other, making sure no one was left behind. We stopped a few times to catch our breath, but we kept running. We were deep in the woods now.

  Fifteen minutes into our run, I felt a sharp pang on my right side.

  I stopped and leaned against a tree, trying to catch my breath, waiting for the pain to pass.