Naughty In Nice

by Rhys Bowen

  “I don’t know,” Mummy said thoughtfully. “Some of those old Russian princesses are frightfully hard up these days. Perhaps the necklace did fall into that old woman’s cleavage and she decided to say nothing about it.”

  “Oh, surely not,” I said. “Princesses have honor drummed down their throats from the day they are born. They’d rather starve than do anything to let the side down.”

  “Try starving one day,” Mummy said. “I noticed that the old French princess was rather taken with you, Georgie. You could pay them a visit.”

  “What, and search their house while I’m there?”

  “No, but you could let them know how terrible Vera and Coco feel about letting the Queen of England down. Play the old honor card. You’ll notice their reactions.”

  “I could do that, I suppose,” I said. I paused before saying my thoughts out loud. “The one we should really look into is Bobby Groper.”

  “Who is that? A relation of Sir Toby?” Vera asked sharply.

  “His son. He was the young man who helped me to my feet and then disappeared.”

  “And you found him again? How clever,” Coco said.

  “It wasn’t particularly clever,” I said. “We were hiding out in the same alcove.”

  “I didn’t know his son was staying at the villa,” Mummy said.

  “He’s not. He’s supposed to be up at Oxford, but he’s been sent down in disgrace. He’s sleeping on a friend’s couch and hiding out until he thinks the time is right to tell his father.”

  “And just how did he manage to disappear from the room?” Coco asked.

  “He claims he was standing next to the door and slipped out behind the gendarme when the latter came in. He says he’s quite good at doing things like that.”

  “A slippery young man, then?” Mummy suggested. “And certainly the one with the best opportunity apart from the princess’s cleavage. Again, you’d be the person to deal with him, Georgie. Try out your feminine charms on him and get him to confess all.”

  “Golly, you make me sound like Mata Hari,” I said with an embarrassed laugh. “I did half suggest that he took the necklace and he just laughed it off. Never exactly said that he didn’t. And he does have a good motive—his father keeps him short of cash. He has gambling debts, and he’s opportunistic.”

  “And he was the only one who actually had his hands on you when he pulled you up,” Coco said.

  “Well, the Prince of Wales helped me up too, but he wouldn’t steal his mother’s necklace.”

  “Ah, but what about that Mrs. Simpson?” Mummy said venomously. “I wouldn’t put it past her.” Mummy and Mrs. Simpson had developed an instant loathing for each other, which I found amusing.

  “Mummy, he has enough money to have an identical piece made for her if she wants it,” I said.

  “And the same goes for Jean-Paul,” Coco said. “He was also one of the first on the scene, wasn’t he? But I don’t believe he actually touched you, did he, ma petite?”

  “No, I think he went ahead to find me a chair and a glass of brandy. Besides, he’s rich too, isn’t he?”

  “One of the richest men in France, so we hear,” Coco said. “And he has his eye on our little Georgiana, I think. Not a bad match, ma petite. Wealth and a title. And what is more, he will keep you happy in bed.”

  I tried not to blush.

  “He’s too old for her,” my mother said. “I believe he’ll settle down with a more mature woman. That type always does.”

  “Are you putting yourself forward as a candidate?” Vera asked.

  “Of course not.” She paused, considering. “But he does have the most wonderful come-to-bed eyes, doesn’t he? Should we invite him round for dinner, do you think?”

  “Enough of this idle chatter. I think we should concentrate on recovering the queen’s choker,” Vera said. “We will go into town this morning. I will go to the station and see if anyone who was at the party left Nice in a hurry. I will also give a description of the stones to the local jewelers, just in case someone dares to break up the necklace and tries to sell the stones separately. And Georgiana must send her telegram to her grandfather immediately, and then visit the princesses and try to find the young master Groper.”

  “We have a busy morning ahead of us, it would seem,” Coco said. “I shall go into town as well, to see if the Paris newspapers have arrived. I want to know if we made the front page.”

  “My dear, you live for notoriety. It’s not healthy,” Vera said.

  “Nonsense. It is very healthy. We all seek fame. I’m just honest about it.” Coco stood up and went over to the railing, looking out over the ocean. “It looks as if the weather will break later,” she said. “We should get busy right away.”

  I took a deep breath, not at all comfortable about confronting three such formidable women. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to do all those things today,” I said. “I have a date with Sir Toby Groper.”

  Chapter 17

  Villa Marguerite

  January 26, 1933

  Weather not too promising. If I’m to go sailing it should be

  soon, but Mummy has other plans.

  “Sir Toby?” My mother wrinkled her nose. “What on earth for?”

  “He invited me to swim in his pool and take a jaunt on his yacht,” I said. “I felt I should take him up on it before he forgets.”

  “I can’t think of anything worse than swimming in a pool with something resembling a pink walrus,” Mummy said. “Besides, I don’t think Olga is going to welcome the presence of a younger woman. She’ll probably push you off the cliff when nobody’s looking.”

  “I believe Olga has departed, judging from the scene I witnessed yesterday,” I said.

  “Dear me, I wonder what brought that on?” Mummy said.

  “Something he’d found out about her, I gather. She was livid and stormed out uttering curses.”

  “Fascinating. In that case I insist that you go and visit him immediately and get all the juicy details. I adore scandals, don’t you, Coco?”

  “You know I do,” Coco said.

  “I say, you two,” Vera said peevishly, “surely the queen’s necklace is more important than gossip with Sir Toby. We must forge ahead with our investigation. The telegram and the princesses . . .”

  “I simply couldn’t call on the princesses at this hour of the morning. It isn’t done, is it?” I said. “And as for Bobby Groper—you know very well that young Englishmen only rise before noon to hunt. So I think I can safely leave them until this afternoon. And you could send the telegram for me when you go into town, couldn’t you, Mummy?”

  “I suppose I could,” my mother said with a sigh as if this was a huge imposition, “but I can’t understand this fascination with Toby Groper. Why is it so important you go to visit him? He’s not attractive, he’s only just about socially acceptable and he’s not even pleasant.”

  Oh, dear, what could I say? “I know all of those things. But—well, you have to understand, after the austere life I’ve led, an invitation on a yacht as well as a swim in a heated swimming pool do sound frightfully exciting. Who knows when I’ll ever be invited on a yacht again.” I realized even as I was saying these things that they made me sound horribly shallow.

  Coco came and put an arm around me. “She’s young; she’s excited about being on the Riviera for the first time. Who can blame her?”

  “If she wants fun and romance, she should not be looking in the direction of Toby Groper, that’s what I’m saying,” Mummy said. “Old enough to be her father and with terrible taste in women.”

  “Besides, one hears that Lady Groper has arrived on the scene,” Vera added. “She’s a fearsome woman if ever there was one. I remember her from my coming-out days—Lady Margaret Huntingdon-Blague, daughter of the Earl of Romney. Even then she was what one might call strong willed—bloody minded would be more like it.”

  “I have no intention of showing any romantic interest in Sir Toby,” I said.


  “Then it must be his son,” Coco exclaimed. “Nobody goes to all this trouble for a swim in a pool.”

  “Do you tie everything in to sex?” I asked.

  “But of course. Doesn’t everyone?” Coco laughed.

  “Anyway, the same goes for Sir Toby as those other people,” Mummy said. “He won’t be up and ready to receive guests for hours.”

  “One of his guests was up and swimming in the pool really early.” I tried to toss off the words, but instead I felt myself blushing at the memory of that beautiful naked body.

  “Even so, I don’t think you would endear yourself to Sir Toby if you arrived on his doorstep too early,” Mummy said. “As you said, it simply isn’t done. Not that he would know—nasty little upstart.”

  I thought that was rather amusing, coming from the daughter of a London policeman, but Mummy still acted the role of Duchess of Rannoch, even if she no longer officially held the position. Breakfast arrived and we worked our way through coffee and croissants while my table companions argued about what they should be doing to recover the necklace and how they could prevent the news from coming to the queen’s ears. As they talked, I was planning out exactly what I’d say to Sir Toby Groper. He didn’t know who I was last night. At some time I’d either have to lie to him about my name or tell the truth. Either was fraught with difficulty : If I told him I was one of Coco’s models, he could have me arrested for stealing the snuffbox—provided I managed to get my hands on it. However, if I told him my true identity, he would realize that he had insulted my mother and that I came with strong royal ties—so he might well hide the snuffbox away.

  No, I had to play the ingénue, the young, carefree girlabout-town—which wasn’t going to be easy. I was young, and reasonably carefree, but I had never been the girl about any kind of town in my life! I considered going to find Belinda and bringing her along for authenticity, but I didn’t want to involve her in any kind of potential scandal. To tell the truth, I felt a little guilty about Belinda. She had been an absolute brick for me in the past, and now she was stuck in a miserable pension while I was enjoying this delightful villa.

  “Mummy,” I interrupted their discussion. “You remember Belinda, don’t you? My friend from school?”

  “The naughty one? The one you said was turning out like me?” She smiled.

  “She’s here in Nice and she doesn’t have much money at the moment so I wondered if we could squeeze her in here, at the villa.”

  “She wouldn’t want to be this far out of town, darling,” Mummy said dismissively. “Too cut off from all the exciting goings-on. It does rather put a damper on nightlife, unless she wants to pay for taxis.”

  “But if she wanted to come—is there a spare bedroom she could have?”

  My mother shrugged charmingly. “Darling, I’d love to help but one does like to keep a couple of good bedrooms available just in case someone interesting turns up out of the blue—like my darling Noel, for example. Noel Coward, I mean. He promised he’d come to visit.”

  “I heard he had a young lover—of the male persuasion,” Vera said bluntly.

  “As Georgie said so wisely, does one really need to tie everything in to sex?” Mummy laughed and tossed back that gorgeous blond hair. “He is the most amusing man I have ever met and he makes me laugh. Max never makes me laugh. Max never makes anyone laugh.”

  “I think it’s time you said bye-bye to Max,” Coco commented, stubbing out her cigarette in the butter on her plate.

  “I suppose you’re right. But he is so frightfully rich and generous, and the sex is quite divine,” Mummy said, “although I really don’t think Germany will be the place for me soon—not with that silly little man Hitler shouting at everyone.”

  “He can’t possibly last,” Vera said. “He is too ridiculous for words. Surely they must see through him soon.”

  “One hopes,” Mummy said. She got up. “Well, to work, my darlings. Georgie, go and compose your telegram. Vera and Coco can start going through their guest list. I think I’ll go and turn my considerable charms on the inspector with the big feet. He had his men take names and addresses, didn’t he? Then we can see who gate-crashed.”

  I looked at her with surprise. She was so beautiful that there were times when I forgot how sharp she was. I went upstairs and worked hard on my telegram to Granddad. It had to be perfect to lure him out of England when he had avowed never to set foot abroad.

  GRANDDAD. I’M IN A SPOT OF TROUBLE. REALLY NEED YOUR HELP. COULD YOU POSSIBLY COME? LADIES HERE WILL ARRANGE FOR YOUR FARE AND TICKETS. BESIDES THE CLIMATE WOULD BE WONDERFUL FOR YOUR CHEST.

  When I took it downstairs it produced peals of laughter from the others.

  “One can see the child has never sent a telegram in her life,” Coco said. “The secret, ma chère, is to take out all unnecessary words or it costs a fortune. Voilà.”

  She went through, striking out most of what I had said.

  IN TROUBLE. NEED YOUR HELP. FARE PAID. ALL ARRANGED. ALSO CLIMATE BENEFICIAL. RSVP IMMEDIATELY.

  “It sounds so impersonal,” I said. “I don’t know if he’ll come if he gets that.”

  “Let the child say what she wants.” Mummy took the paper from Coco. “We don’t exactly need to economize, do we?” And she walked off with my original telegram.

  Meanwhile I went upstairs to dress for my encounter with Sir Toby. I put on my cleanest, least crinkled cotton frock and dared to add a touch of rouge and lipstick. When I came down again I was met by two critical stares.

  “This is what you wear to visit Sir Toby?” Chanel asked. I nodded.

  “Ma petite, you will not get any gossip out of him dressed like that. You are supposed to enchant him. Instead you look like a schoolgirl collecting donations for the starving children in China.”

  “I say, that’s a bit harsh,” Vera interjected, but added, “I do see her point. It’s not the most alluring of dresses.”

  “I don’t think I mean to allure him,” I said.

  “But at least you should charm him,” Coco said. “Show us your wardrobe. What else do you have?”

  Reluctantly I led them upstairs. Even more reluctantly I opened the wardrobe. Even to my eyes at home my wardrobe was not what you would call chic. To the most fashionable woman in the world it would obviously appear as—

  “Mon Dieu,” Coco exclaimed. “Where do you find your clothes? At the convent? These are the clothes of a young woman who wishes to become a nun.”

  “I haven’t had the money to buy anything recently,” I said, my cheeks flaming. “My brother cut me off and it’s not easy trying to survive alone.”

  She looked at me with sympathy. “This I know. I have survived alone all these years. But then I had a talent. You must find your talent, my child. And in the meantime, we must help her, Vera. What do we have that she can wear today?”

  “It is too bad that her mother is so petite,” Vera said. “She would not fit into any of Claire’s clothes.”

  “We must take her on a shopping expedition,” Coco said. “This very morning. It will be fun. Come on. Let’s find Claire and go into town.”

  “But what about my visit to Sir Toby?” I asked, torn between wanting to do my duty and the thought of Coco Chanel buying me clothes.

  “I think we all agree that you cannot visit him dressed in such unsuitable clothing. Besides, he is probably still snoring, like all good Englishmen.” Coco dismissed this with a wave of her hand. “Just a quick jaunt to Galeries Lafayette for the basics of survival. Later I can take you under my wing properly and get you set up for society.”

  Galeries Lafayette turned out to be a department store in Massena Square—a huge area of red colonnaded buildings with fountains and statues. It was peopled with the most incredibly elegant women and I was horribly conscious of that cotton frock. The assistants almost fell over each other in their haste to reach Chanel. The basics of survival turned out to be a pair of wide-legged white linen trousers, a little navy linen jacket and a
striped matelot shirt. “When on the French coast, what else but the look of a French sailor,” Chanel said. “Chic and fun.” She even managed to find me a jaunty French sailor’s hat. When I put them on I had to agree that I did look amazingly chic. Maybe there was hope for me after all.

  As I stepped from the store into the blinding sunlight I almost collided with two women looking at the window display. I went to apologize but before I could utter a word Fig’s sharp voice said, “Georgie, it’s you. What are you wearing? I hardly recognized you.”

  “Thanks,” I said with a satisfied smile. “Coco Chanel just bought the outfit for me at this store.”

  I could positively see their jaws drop. “Coco Chanel? At Galeries Lafayette? What on earth for?” Fig demanded.

  “She’s taken me under her wing.” I tried the Gallic shrug. “It’s good to see you, Fig. I hope all is well at the Villa Gloriosa.”

  Fig frowned. “We’ve been so worried about you. We’ve just heard that you were involved in some kind of scandal last night—a stolen necklace? I did warn you about staying with your mother, didn’t I, Ducky?” Her sister nodded, both of them staring at me as if I was a fallen woman now. “Binky’s quite upset. He thinks you should come back and stay with us immediately.”

  “Thank you for the kind offer, but I prefer a lovely bedroom overlooking the ocean to a camp bed in a library,” I said. At that moment Coco and Vera arrived to join me. “Sorry, I have to run. Madame Chanel doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” I flashed them a brilliant smile. “Isn’t shopping at Galeries Lafayette fun?”

  Chapter 18

  January 26, 1933

  About to visit Sir Toby Groper. Will I have the nerve to

  swipe the snuffbox?

  I left Mummy, Vera and Coco in town, ready to do battle with the obnoxious Inspector Lafite again, visit jewelers, and snoop around at the casino and station, while Franz, Mummy’s chauffeur, ran me back to the villa.