Headline

by Imogen Robertson

  ‘Gustave,’ he said with an American twang to his French, ‘I swear you will turn every woman you speak to into a suffragette. Hell, I listen to you for ten seconds and I want to bop a policeman over the head just to show fellow feeling.’

  Tanya turned in his direction, aware that the room had grown suddenly brighter and warmer. ‘Mr Allardyce! I did not know you were to be of the Ambassador’s party.’

  ‘Neither did I, nor the Ambassador until an hour ago, Miss Koltsova. Then I had a sudden and urgent need to change my plans for the evening. Now, have you had a turn around the room yet? There are lots of shiny lights and rich people in pretty frocks to look at. That should appeal to your feminine fancy, shouldn’t it?’

  She grinned into her champagne. ‘It should.’

  ‘Excellent. Then do stand up with me at once, but be careful not to look back in the direction of your aunts. I am fairly sure they will make it clear they wish you to stay in your seat if you do.’

  Tanya got to her feet very gracefully and didn’t look round. He led her to the edge of the dance floor to a stop where they could pretend to watch the dancers. ‘Well, I am here. What’s the emergency?’ He spoke in English, his voice dry and tired.

  Tanya fixed her eyes on the conductor of the band. He squatted and leaped as he led his musicians, exhorting them to greater efforts with extravagant grimaces. ‘There is no emergency. I did not mean you to think such a thing.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘You certainly did. I’m sorry, Miss Koltsova – I’ve been working hard and that makes me more plain-spoken than usual. What can you want of me? I’ve chased you round town for a month trying to make myself amusing and dodging your aunts. You know, I don’t think in that time I’ve seen you in the same dress twice?’

  ‘Paul . . .’ she whispered. He controlled himself and looked out onto the dance floor again. It was the first time he’d heard her say his first name, but there was such fear in her voice, such sadness. He looked around at all the show and spectacle and felt a black bitterness run through him.

  ‘So it’s true, then. Perov is going to ask you to marry him. I’ve heard the rumour. Have you got me here to make you an alternative offer?’ Tanya’s eyes felt hot. ‘Sorry kid, but I can’t make you one – though it’s sweet of you to offer me a chance to counter-bid. I’ve nothing but what I earn, so if you were hoping I’ve got some railway stocks laid by, you’re out of luck.’

  The band leader sprang in the air and spun about, aping the movements of the can-can dancers. He looked to Tanya at that moment like a devil.

  ‘You horrible, cruel . . .’ She still looked straight ahead, a polite smile on her lips as if she were enjoying some pleasant conversation with an acquaintance. ‘If that is what you think of me, why are you here? Even if I were stupid enough to agree to marry you, you would not want me, would you, without all . . . this!’ She touched her evening gloves to the diamonds in her ears, the pearls and diamonds at her throat. ‘You’re just as money-minded as any millionaire in the room. If I didn’t change my dress every day you wouldn’t chase after me for long.’

  ‘I’d take you in rags,’ his teeth were gritted, ‘but how could I ever live with myself afterwards, knowing the life you could have had? You’d make me a failure just when I am beginning to get my start in the world. I could never dream of keeping you in the style—’

  ‘Keep me!’ She faced him, hissing. ‘Am I a horse, a dog? Offer me your arm and smile, you idiot, then take me back to your friend Gustave. At least he is honest about his contempt for women.’

  He took her arm and drew her back towards the table, blistered with rage and feeling that though he was greatly injured, he was somehow also in the wrong.

  He could not leave, though, but rather sat in heavy misery listening to Tanya sharpening her feminine charms on Gustave for the next hour and sinking every glass of champagne he could get his hands on. Then he noticed that the heavy hoops of souvenirs were being lowered just to within reach of the gentlemen’s canes, so some of the souvenirs might be knocked down and claimed. Pushing back his chair with a violent scrape, he set out into the scrum, returning some minutes later rather red in the face and with his blond hair dishevelled.

  Tanya looked up at him in surprise. He bowed very formally and presented her with his prize. It was a cheap cardboard cigarette-case printed with one of the advertisements of Bal Tabarin and a border of glass beads, glued not quite straight. She took it from him a little dubiously then laughed; her black eyes lit up and she pressed it to her heart. ‘Mr Allardyce, I will treasure it.’

  He sat down, feeling a glow of satisfaction that spread painfully from his stomach to his fingertips. She leaned towards him and said softly, ‘I will ask for time.’ The warm glow became ashy and cold.

  ‘The horse could learn to talk,’ he muttered.

  ‘What?’ He was about to explain when Tanya straightened and looked across the room like a pointer bitch who had spotted game. ‘Oh, is that not Madame de Civray? Are you acquainted with her? A friend has told me about her and I would love to meet her.’ She looked so enthused, her fingers were already drumming out a tattoo on the white linen.

  ‘I do know her,’ Paul said. ‘I write for her father’s papers about Paris affairs from time to time, so she invites me to her At Homes. Not that they’re very exclusive. Shall I introduce you now?’

  ‘Oh do!’ and once again Paul offered his arm. He noticed before she stood up that Tanya slipped his cardboard cigarette-case into her shimmering evening bag and whatever else he felt, he was briefly as happy as he knew how to be. He ushered her through the crowd and subtly made space for them in the circle of the Countess’s court, then when she had greeted him with a slight nod of recognition, he bowed and introduced Tanya.

  ‘I am so delighted to meet you,’ Tanya said, with a curtsy. ‘My friend Maud Heighton told me of your kindness in showing her your collection. She is absolutely thrilled with the photographs and has promised to bring them to the studio in the New Year.’

  The effect of this little speech was not what either Paul or Tanya had expected. The Countess’s polite smile disappeared and her face became pale. ‘You have not heard then,’ she said, then looked around the faces of her friends. ‘You must excuse me, dears. I have to speak to this young lady.’ She took Tanya by the elbow and guided her across the ballroom floor to an alcove behind the band. ‘Let us sit down for a moment, honey.’

  Paul felt rather aggrieved. He half-followed the women, being discreet but keeping them in sight, watching them through the crowds of dancers. Midnight was coming up fast and the dancing seemed to be getting wilder. There were shrieks of laughter coming from all sides of the room. He could just see them through the bobbing and braying heads of the revellers. Tanya was facing him, and he saw her polite smile vanish, to be replaced by an expression of sudden shock. She had one hand over her mouth and was shaking her head. The Countess de Civray was holding onto her other hand and appeared to be speaking to her urgently. Miss Koltsova wrenched her hand away and bent forward, covering her face. The Countess looked round and caught his eye. Paul forced his way through the crowd towards them. He looked down helplessly on Miss Koltsova’s shaking shoulders.

  ‘Allardyce, thank goodness! Could you fetch Miss Koltsova’s aunts and explain to them that their niece is unwell? Then speak to Monsieur Guyot at the front desk. Have their car sent to the back entrance at once. Hurry along now, there’s a good fellow.’

  He went off to do as he was told, leading the aunts to the alcove and arranging for the car. Then he remembered Tanya’s evening bag and ran across the room to fetch it. When he returned, Tanya was already getting into the car. She took the bag, and as she thanked him distractedly, he tried to squeeze her fingers with his own. Her eyes were red but before he could ask anything or even tell if the pressure of his fingers was being returned, the more fearsome of the aunts reached across and pulled the car door closed; he had to move quickly to avoid losing an arm. He slipped back i
nto the ballroom before Guyot closed the door on him too and hurried up to the Countess.

  ‘Madame, what . . . ?’ She shook her head and pointed upwards. The apelike band leader was standing on the upper balcony with a pistol in each hand and both arms raised in the air. That instant, the lights went out and in the utter darkness twelve shots exploded, the muzzle flashes singeing the eye. The crowd counted in a great shouted chorus after each shot ‘ . . . dix, onze, douze!’ The cry of twelve became a general cheer and the electric lights glowed and burst forth again. Strings of them in mauve and yellow were lowered from between the festoons of flowers that canopied the roof. The band let fly with a fanfare on the trumpets and the room erupted into more rolling cheers. As another cascade of ribbons came curling down from the balcony, the back doors opened and a succession of beautiful women, carried on platforms resting on the shoulders of men dressed as Roman slaves, began to parade round the room. Above her head each woman waved a flag sewn with large scarlet letters proclaiming Love, Beauty, Peace – and finally and most splendid in her bower, a girl under a stiff arch covered in paper roses and emblazoned 1910.

  Confetti fell over Paul’s shoulders. The Countess had disappeared back into the crowd and the dancing had begun again, even less inhibited than before. Paul leaned back against the pillar behind him, exhilarated and confused. A red ribbon fell over his shoulder, and without thinking what he was doing, he curled it and tucked it into his breast-pocket.

  CHAPTER 2

  1 January 1910

  Tanya woke slowly, becoming aware of light and movement within the room. Her old maid Sasha was already there, bustling about Tanya’s discarded clothes and books. As always, her first thought was, I am in Paris – and for one moment she was happy. Then her memories of the previous evening returned. She saw the Countess’s face and heard her saying gently but firmly that Maud was a thief, and dead. Tanya squeezed her eyes shut. Her blood felt suddenly hot and painful in her throat as if she were choking on it. She had managed it all so beautifully; introducing Maud to Miss Harris and seeing her safely established at the Morels’ for the winter, and more than that she been sure, sure that Maud liked her and that they were friends. She thought of the card Maud had made for her, and the sketch in oil she had done of Maud at work, her suddenly frank and open laugh when she had seen it.

  Tanya could never tell if the Frenchwomen she met liked her or not. They treated her like a child, laughed at her for working at Lafond’s when she could be sleeping and shopping, writing catty little notes to each other as they did and despaired over her every time she turned down some invitation in order to attend the evening lectures on anatomy. Whenever her aunts dragged her round the fashionable At Homes in the afternoons, their hostesses made sly jokes saying they hoped she would not get paint on their upholstery though she was better dressed than any of them. The aunts would not let her visit her friends from the studios where they lived, nor invite them formally to the house. Even Francesca, though her husband was at the German Embassy, was forbidden to dine with them. Apparently the Ambassador himself, a huge man who looked permanently bored, was a third cousin of theirs, and to invite the wife of one of his juniors to the house when he himself had only dined here twice would be a gross and grievous insult. There were rules about these things. There had been trouble enough when she had only hosted Maud for an afternoon, but as it had not been a formal visit and Maud had seemed perfectly genteel, they had let it slide in the end. Had she been too distracted by her interest in Paul Allardyce, the threatened proposal from Perov, to notice that Maud was still in real danger, in real need? She had seemed so calm and happy. She had not been terribly understanding about the pressure on Tanya to marry wealth. Tanya had thought perhaps that was just the famous English commonsense, something she could learn from that might in time make her stronger. Or perhaps it had only been jealousy, after all.

  Tanya loved Paris, but she felt she was kept in a small, rigorously policed corner of it, and had been plotting a means to move the velvet ropes out a little way. She hoped in some part of her soul that if she spent more time among those people who worked for their living – practical men and women who did not devote themselves to fashion and leisure – she might be able to imagine a life among them. She saw Maud as an example. She was so moral, so correct and hardworking, no one could think she was not a suitable companion, but she intended to earn her own living when her training was done. Tanya had been carefully mentioning Maud to her aunts since she began to live in Rue de Seine, repeating the lie about her being the relation of a baronet, only making the relationship a little more vague. Weren’t the Morels wise to have a young, respectable companion for Sylvie? Weren’t they lucky to be able to practise their English? Wouldn’t it be hard for Miss Heighton to go back to an ordinary, albeit respectable boarding house, when the Morels left Paris, having been so comfortable?

  Tanya bunched the silk sheets in angry fists. Now Maud had ruined it. She had lost herself in opium. Could she have fallen so far without Tanya even noticing it? She had seen Maud’s hunger and her hope that day in Parc Monceau, her longing for the comfort of the apartment in Rue de Seine. She must have been tormented by the idea of losing it again, and then, just at the season of Christmas when all the wealth and light of Paris is on display, so available if you have francs in your pocket, that stupid, stupid American woman had left her diamonds lying about. If Tanya had just told Maud her clever plan, that she should come here when the Morels left Paris, that she would save her from the cats, help her plan an independent life and laugh at the mesdames with her; if she had just said to her, ‘This is my plan, Maud. Help me,’ then the Countess could have left wallets of fresh banknotes around and Maud would never have thought of taking any. But she hadn’t said anything, not wanting to disappoint, and now Maud was gone and everything was broken. It was her fault. She drew her knees into her chest and groaned.

  ‘Oh, so you are awake, cabbage? Sit up and drink your tea like a good girl. I’ve held them off as long as I could but your aunts are pawing at the door. Fainting away in the car might have worked last night, but it ain’t going to work this morning.’

  Sasha arranged the pillows behind her, then handed the girl her tea. The cup started rattling in the saucer at once. Tanya’s shoulders started to shake again and she sobbed. Sasha sat down beside her and lifted her chin in her hand. ‘There, there, my little darling! No more crying! Are you sick?’ Tanya shook her head. ‘No one has been cruel to you?’ Another shake. ‘Bad news then? I wondered, but who do you know in Paris to cry over so? Not any of those fools who take you dancing when you’d rather be home, I’d lay my savings on it, and I have a few. Did Perov propose? Did he frighten you?’

  ‘No, no . . . not that.’

  There was a tapping at the door. ‘Is she awake, Sasha?’

  ‘Here we go! Now mind what you say! No scandal, no illness and no nerves! Vera Sergeyevna would have written to your father already this morning, demanding that you be taken home at once – if I hadn’t hidden the ink.’

  Tanya nodded and prepared herself as well as she could for the onslaught.

  ‘Are you ill?’ Vera Sergeyevna said before she even came to a halt by the bed, then without waiting for an answer, she turned to Lila and snapped, ‘I knew this was a mistake and I told Sergei so! I did! “She is fragile, my dear brother,” I said. “Do not send her to Paris! Her nerves will not take it.” And see? I was right!’

  Lila Ivanovna placed the back of her hand briefly on Tanya’s forehead. ‘She has no fever. Some private sadness? Has someone hurt you, Tanya?’

  Lila’s voice was always softer. She had been the first person to encourage Tanya to hold a pencil. If she had been with Tanya alone she might have soaked all her secrets from her, though what she might have done with those secrets was anyone’s guess. Tanya shook her head.

  ‘Poor Mikhail Pavlovich was so disappointed when we left,’ Vera continued. ‘And who could blame him if he decided he did not want a sickly wife
, always pulling him away from his pleasure with her fits and fancies.’ Tanya gritted her teeth. ‘Your father will be extremely disappointed also. Perhaps we should get you back to Saint Petersburg at once. If you drive off the only suitable men in Paris with your fits, then we shall have to find you a husband there.’ Tanya kept her head lowered, staring at the folds of her disordered sheets. There was a pause, then Vera said with the air of a visionary pronouncing, ‘The Rhum Saint James.’

  Tanya was startled enough to look up at her. Vera was standing with her fists on her wide hips. ‘I’m sorry, Aunty Vera?’

  ‘You haven’t been taking it, have you?’ Tanya dropped her eyes. ‘You foolish, foolish girl! It was recommended to me by Monsieur Claretie himself. I am only surprised that you are not fainting away every day. I dare say my cousin and I would hardly be standing without its support.’

  ‘I do not doubt it, Vera,’ Lila said, and for a second Tanya thought she caught the ghost of a smile on Lila’s lips.

  Vera tapped her slipper on the floor, frowning, and her eyes fixed on the moulding in the corner of the room. ‘Perhaps if Mr Perov is made to understand it was a rare lapse from your usual health . . . The richness of the Christmas diet without taking proper precautions. Men like women with delicate tastes as long as they don’t cause too much trouble. Makes them chivalrous.’ She sniffed hard. ‘You must stay in bed today so I suppose we shall have to do the whole round of New Year’s Day calls by ourselves. And no doubt every maid will want her tip. You are very thoughtless.’

  ‘I am sorry to have been so foolish,’ Tanya whispered. ‘And to have ruined your enjoyment of the ball last night.’

  ‘Oh, it is not for myself, dear, that I complain.’ Vera swept her arm wide with the palm upright. She might have been performing Racine. ‘Balls and champagne mean nothing to me. But your poor Aunt Lila was not brought up with the same luxury as I was. Your selfishness cost her a unique pleasure.’ Tanya said nothing but kept her eyes lowered submissively, while Vera Sergeyevna sniffed again. ‘I suppose we must go. It will show we are not seriously concerned for your health and we can convey to Perov your apologies for not wishing him a good night and a Happy New Year. If only you had not been talking so much to that American.’ Tanya felt her heart clench angrily. ‘Allardyce. He has sent you roses this morning. Foolish extravagance! No doubt the servants will talk.’