by Marc Levy
“That’s incredibly kind of you,” said Alice, overwhelmed by Daldry’s passion. “But I’m not a test pilot, and I’m certainly no Adrienne Bollard.”
“Bolland. But you have nightmares like she did, ambition like she did, and you’re willing to undertake a voyage that seems crazy from the outset.”
“I couldn’t possibly.”
“But you could at least consider it.”
“I couldn’t. It’s completely beyond my means, and I’d never be able to repay you.”
“What do you know? You’d be spiteful not to take me on as your mechanic. Maybe you’ll discover new essential oils in Turkey and be inspired to create a revolutionary perfume, an enormous success—I could be your investor, your business partner. Of course, I’ll let you decide on the percentage that you’ll deign to grant me for having humbly contributed to your glory. And to make things fair, if I happen to paint an intersection in Istanbul that ends up in a museum, I’ll also make sure you get a fair share of the value it adds to my paintings in the gallery market.”
“You’re drunk, Daldry. Nothing you’re saying makes any sense, and yet you’ve almost managed to convince me.”
“That’s the spirit! Don’t stay shut up in your flat dreading the night like a coward. Take on the world! Let’s go on this trip to Turkey together. I’ll organize everything. We can leave London in a week. I’ll let you sleep on it and we’ll talk about it again tomorrow.”
Daldry got up, took Alice by the arm, and clutched her tightly to him.
“Good night,” he said, pulling back with embarrassment as he realized how carried away he’d got.
Alice saw him to the door. Daldry staggered a bit. They waved good night to each other and each of them closed their doors.
5
Alice’s bad dreams continued like clockwork, and she woke up exhausted. With a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she got up to make herself breakfast before settling into the armchair Daldry had occupied the previous evening. She glanced at the brochure with the Hagia Sophia on the cover that he had left behind on the trunk.
When she opened it, she could practically smell the Ottoman roses, orange blossoms, and jasmine. She imagined the mazelike passages of the Grand Bazaar, bargaining in the spice market, and breathing in the delicate odors of saffron, rosemary, and cinnamon. She felt her senses sharpen as she daydreamed before dropping the brochure with a sigh. Her tea suddenly seemed bland in comparison. She got dressed and went to knock on Daldry’s door. He answered in his pajamas and dressing gown, stifling a yawn.
“You’re more of a morning person, aren’t you?” He rubbed his eyes.
“It’s seven o’clock.”
“As I was saying. Why don’t you come back in two hours?” He closed the door.
Alice knocked again.
“What is it now?”
“Ten percent.”
“Of what?”
“On my profit, if I find an idea for a new perfume in Turkey.”
Daldry stared at her blankly.
“Twenty!” he said, pulling shut the door.
Alice pulled it open again. “Fifteen.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“Take it or leave it.”
“What about my paintings?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Whatever you like.”
“You’re being cruel again.”
“Well then, the same thing, fifteen percent on the sale of all the paintings you paint in Turkey, or upon your return, if they’re inspired by the trip.”
“Such business acumen.”
“Stop trying to flatter me and go back to bed. Come see me when you’re awake and we’ll talk seriously. I still haven’t said yes. And shave.”
“I thought you said my beard was becoming,” said Daldry, visibly hurt.
“Well then let it grow, but make up your mind. You look unkempt with all that stubble, and if we’re going to be business partners, you have to be presentable.”
Daldry rubbed his chin.
“To grow or not to grow?”
“And they say that women can’t make up their minds,” Alice muttered, and went back to her flat.
Daldry came to see her at noon. He was wearing a suit, his hair was carefully combed, and he smelled of eau de cologne, but he hadn’t shaved. Before Alice had a chance to speak, he said he was going to think about the beard until the day of their departure. He suggested they go to the pub to negotiate on neutral territory, but once they were outside, he led her to his car.
“Aren’t we going to lunch?”
“Yes, but let’s go to a real restaurant.”
“Why didn’t you say so to begin with?”
“To make it a surprise. Besides, you probably would have quibbled, and I just feel like eating a decent steak.”
He opened the door and invited her to take the wheel.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” said Alice. “The last time I drove, the streets were completely empty.”
“I promised you a second lesson, didn’t I? I always keep my promises. Besides, we might have to do some driving in Turkey, and I don’t want to be the only one behind the wheel. Go on. But wait for me to get in before you start the engine.”
Daldry walked around the back of the Austin. Alice paid close attention to his instructions, but she braked in the middle of every turn until she was sure there was no oncoming traffic.
“At this rate we’re going to be overtaken by the people on the pavement. I invited you to lunch, not dinner.”
“You can drive yourself if you want. I’m doing my best.”
“By all means, continue doing your best, but also remember to keep accelerating through the corners.”
Eventually they arrived, and Daldry told Alice to pull over. A uniformed valet hurried over to the passenger side before confusedly hurrying back to the driver’s side when he saw that Alice was behind the wheel.
“Where on earth have you brought me?” asked Alice, uneasy to be the object of so much unexpected and obsequious attention.
“To a restaurant,” said Daldry with a touch of exasperation.
Once they were inside, Alice admired the elegant dining room. The walls were decorated with carved wood paneling and the tables were perfectly aligned, covered in fine white linen and set with a greater variety of knives, forks, and spoons than Alice had ever seen in her life. The maître d’hôtel led them to a cozy mirrored alcove and pulled back the table to allow Alice to sit on the banquette, from which she had a commanding view of the room. As soon as he had left, the headwaiter presented them with the menus. Before the sommelier had the time to offer any advice, Daldry immediately ordered a 1929 Château Margaux.
“What’s wrong now?” Daldry asked once the sommelier had left. “You look furious.”
“That’s because I am furious!” hissed Alice under her breath, not wanting to be overheard by their neighbors.
“I don’t understand. I take you to one of London’s finest restaurants and order wine of the rarest delicacy, a mythical vintage—”
“Look at me! You’re in a suit and a perfectly laundered shirt. I look like a schoolgirl waiting to be taken down the street for a bottle of pop. You might have had the courtesy to tell me about your plans, so I could have at least put on some make-up. All the people here must think—”
“That you’re a ravishing woman and that I’m lucky you agreed to have lunch with me. What man in his right mind would waste time judging your clothes when your eyes alone could captivate anyone? Please stop worrying, and try to enjoy what we’re about to be served.”
Alice looked skeptical, but when she tasted the wine she was impressed. It had a silky texture—she had never tasted wine like this.
“You weren’t flirting just now, were you, Daldry?”
Her comment caught him off guard, and he choked.
“By offering to accompany you on a search for the man of your life? A curious technique for courting, don’t you think? If we’re
going to be business associates, we ought to be honest with one another. We both know we’re not each other’s type. That’s the very reason I was able to make you this business proposition without the slightest ulterior motive. Well, almost . . .”
“Almost?”
“I asked you to lunch because there’s one last detail in the terms of our association I’d like to go over with you.”
“I thought we had come to an agreement over the percentages.”
“Yes, but there’s a final favor I’d like to ask.”
“I’m listening.”
Daldry refilled Alice’s glass and invited her to drink.
“If the fortune-teller’s predictions hold true, I’m the first of the six people that will lead you to the man of your future. Like I promised, I’ll take you to the second person. Once we’ve found him, as I’m sure we will, my mission is complete.”
“What are you getting at?”
Daldry tsked. “You always have to get a word in edgewise, don’t you? Once my part of the mission is finished, I’ll return to London and leave you to continue on your own. I certainly have no intention of hanging around and being the third wheel when you finally meet him. I do possess a certain amount of tact, after all. But, of course, your journey is financed until it reaches its end, according to the terms of our agreement.”
“And I’ll pay you back to the last penny, if I have to work until the end of my days to do so.”
“I’m not talking about money.”
“Then what?” Alice’s heartbeat quickened.
“Well . . . While you’re gone, however long that may be, I’d like your permission to work under the skylight in your flat. You won’t be there or have any use for it, and I promise to keep the place up, which, between you and me, won’t do it any harm.”
“You wouldn’t happen to be taking me thousands of miles from home and abandoning me in a distant land just to paint under my skylight, would you?”
“You may have beautiful eyes, my dear, but they hide a twisted mind.”
“Fine, but only once we’ve met this supposed second person, and only on the condition that they give me good reason to pursue the hunt.”
“Naturally!” Daldry lifted his glass. “Let’s make a toast to it.”
“We’ll toast on the train,” said Alice. “I’m leaving myself an escape route. This has all been very rushed.”
“Speaking of which, I’m going to see to our tickets and accommodation this afternoon.” Daldry put down his glass and smiled at Alice. “You look happy,” he told her, “and it’s most becoming on you.”
“It’s the wine,” she said. “But thank you.”
“It wasn’t intended as a compliment.”
“And that’s not why I was thanking you. You’re being very generous. I promise that once we’re in Istanbul, I’ll work day and night to create a perfume that will make you a proud investor. I won’t let you down.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m as happy as you are to leave gray old London for a while. In a few days we’ll be under the sun, and when I see myself in the mirror behind you, I realize it will do me some good.”
Alice turned and looked in the mirror. Daldry’s eyes met hers and she made a face. The idea of traveling such a distance made her head spin, but for once in her life she opened up and let herself enjoy the giddy, drunken happiness without holding back. Still looking at Daldry in the mirror, she asked him how she should break the news of her decision to go on a trip to her friends. He told her the answer was in her question. She just had to tell them she had made up her mind and that she was content in her decision. If they were really her friends, they would understand and support her for having done so.
They both decided to forego dessert. Alice suggested that they take a walk. As they strolled through the fashionable neighborhood around the restaurant, Alice couldn’t keep her mind off of Carol, Eddy, Sam, and especially Anton. How would they react? She came up with the idea of inviting them to her house for dinner. Once they were softened up after a few drinks, she would tell them about her plans.
They passed a phone box, and she asked Daldry to wait for her a moment.
After making four calls, Alice felt as though she had taken the first steps on a long journey. She had made up her mind and she knew she wouldn’t back out. She joined Daldry, who was waiting for her leaning against a lamppost and smoking a cigarette. She took him by the hand and spun him around in an improvised dance.
“Let’s leave as soon as possible. I want to get away from the winter, from London, from my dreary routine. I wish we were leaving today. We’ll get lost in the bazaar, smell the spices, cross the Bosporus . . . You can sketch the junction between Europe and Asia; what better crossroads could you hope for? I’m not afraid anymore! I can’t tell you how happy it makes me, Daldry.”
“Even though I suspect you might be a bit drunk, I’m thrilled to hear it. And I’m not just saying that to butter you up. Let me find you a taxi home and I’ll go to the travel agency. You have a passport, don’t you?”
Alice’s face dropped.
“Don’t worry, neither do I. But a close friend of my father’s works in the Foreign Office. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. But we’ll have to go get our pictures taken, so I suppose the travel agent can wait. I’ll drive this time.”
Alice and Daldry drove to a photographer’s shop. Alice spent so much time fixing her hair that Daldry had to remind her that the only people who would open her passport and see her picture would be border control officers. They probably wouldn’t notice a few stray hairs. Alice finished what she was doing and finally took a seat on the photographer’s stool.
Daldry was fascinated by the photographer’s new camera. Once the photo was taken, he pulled the card of film from the camera and removed a protective sheet of foil. A few minutes later, four identical images of Alice appeared on the photographic paper. When it was Daldry’s turn to take his seat on the stool, he held his breath and smiled like a simpleton.
With their precious photos in hand, they went to the passport office at St James’s. Daldry explained the pressing nature of their travels to the bureaucrat behind the counter and spoke of vague but important business interests that hung in the balance. He didn’t hesitate to reel off the names of various high-placed officials in the Foreign Office hierarchy. Alice was aghast at what seemed to her to be so much blatant lying. The man behind the counter said he would do what he could, and Daldry thanked him before ushering Alice out the door ahead of him.
“Nothing gets in your way, does it?” she said, once they were in the hall outside.
“You nearly did. If he had looked at your face while I was pleading our cause, I doubt whether he’d have given our papers a second look.”
“Well, pardon me for smirking, but I thought it a bit rich to claim that the hobbled English economy would never rise from its knees if we weren’t in Istanbul within days.”
“That poor paper-pusher’s days are probably so dull that he was thrilled to be part of an important mission. We livened up his day.”
“Well, you’ve got a lot of nerve.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more.”
On the way out of the building, Daldry playfully saluted to the guard on duty before opening the door of his Austin for Alice.
Daldry drove Alice home before going to the travel agent. She sat at her worktable and tried to concentrate, but she found it impossible to put any ideas on paper. She was supposed to meet her friends at the pub that evening, and the hours dragged on. She uncorked a vial of rose oil, and her thoughts strayed to imaginary oriental gardens. She could hear the sound of a piano from somewhere in the building, but when she went to the door to better locate its source, the music stopped, and the old Victorian house returned to its usual silence.
Alice entered the pub and her friends were already there, engaged in an animated conversation. Anton saw her come in the door. She smoothed her hair as she came over to them. Eddy and Sa
m hardly paid her any attention, but Anton rose and offered her a chair before turning back to the topic at hand, a fiery discussion about Attlee’s record as prime minister. Eddy wanted Churchill back, but Sam, a staunch Attlee man, predicted the end of the middle class if the old war leader returned to power.
Alice was itching to jump in, but Carol gave her a knowing look and leaned over to ask what had happened while the debate raged on.
“What are you talking about?” asked Alice.
“You,” said Carol.
“Nothing that I can think of.”
“You’re lying. Something has changed. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Nonsense.”
“I haven’t seen you this radiant in a long time,” Carol insisted. “Have you met somebody?”
Alice laughed louder than she had meant to, and the men went silent.
“She’s right,” said Anton, who had obviously been keeping an ear on their conversation. “Something about you has changed.”
“You’re all being silly. Why doesn’t somebody get us something to drink instead of reflecting upon the supposed sparkle in my eye? I’m dying of thirst.”
The men went to the bar to get another round for the five of them, and Carol took advantage of the moment to continue her interrogation.
“Go on, you can tell me.”
“I haven’t met anybody, but if you must know, I might be meeting somebody in the near future.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I decided to listen to the advice of the fortune-teller. The one you made me consult.”
Carol became excited and took Alice’s hands in hers. “You’re really going? You’re going to Turkey?”
Alice nodded, before gesturing to indicate that the men were already on their way back. Carol leapt up and ordered them to stay at the bar until she and Alice were done with their conversation.