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“Again?” he said with surprise. “But we saw them only the other day. Are you sure?” He was prevaricating. Of course she was sure. Josephine did not make mistakes like that. More to the point, she would not be going were there no arrangement to do so. She looked very elegant. She had kept her poise, and her beautiful hair, no less lovely because it was now completely silver. She was dressed in a dark blue gown that fell well below the knee, but clung to her because of the way it was cut. Normally he was very unobservant about clothes, but he could see that this was special.
“It’s Katherine’s birthday,” she reminded him.
“Oh! Oh dear. I forgot. We should have chosen something for her…”
“A bit late now,” she said drily, but she could not keep the smile from giving her away.
“You have something for her?” he said with the assurance of long habit.
“Of course I have! Elena’s birthday is the only one you never forget!”
“Well, she was born on the fifth of November!” he said reasonably. “Guy Fawkes Day. If anyone else had been born on Christmas Day, or St. George’s Day, or something, then I would remember them,” he excused himself.
“When is St. George’s Day?” she asked innocently.
He drew in breath to tell her, then realized she was teasing him.
“What did you get for her? I ought not to look surprised when she opens it,” he said instead.
“A long rope of pink pearls that I know she has been wanting,” she replied. “Actually, I rather like them myself, although I should prefer white ones. I think pink is a little…I don’t know…anyway, it is what she asked for.”
“Naked-looking,” he supplied. But he made an instant mental note to write down “white pearls, long necklace” and went upstairs to change. He was always pleased to get some guidance in what to give people as gifts. He really had no idea, especially women. Mike had been easy: anything mechanical. He remembered vividly the first Meccano set, and the time they had spent together building things.
Suddenly, he missed Mike with a terrible sense of loss. It was all so long ago. The Meccano had been Mike’s present twenty-five years ago, a quarter of a century. He walked along the landing to the bedroom. He must behave as if he were pleased to spend the evening with Charles. How difficult that would be was completely irrelevant.
* * *
—
They arrived exactly on time, and were greeted warmly. Katherine was an excellent cook, and not only that, but she always managed to make it appear as if it had been no trouble. She had help in the house, but, like Josephine, the art of cooking was hers, the dashes of color that added beauty.
She was delighted with the pearls, and thanked them both with enthusiasm. She knew perfectly well that Josephine had chosen the necklace, but nothing in her warmth fell short for Lucas either.
They were seated at the table and well into the first course of cold lettuce soup, which was, to Lucas’s surprise, delicious, when Charles looked across at him, frowning.
“I thought Elena would have been home by now. Have you heard from her?” he asked.
“No, actually I haven’t,” Lucas replied. “But she might have stayed a little longer in Amalfi. It’s an extraordinarily beautiful place.”
“She didn’t,” Charles said quickly. “I heard from Margot, and she said Elena had left before she did. Went off to Rome with a new young man.”
Katherine smiled. “Then perhaps Elena has found someone she likes and is staying on in Rome.” She looked at Charles. “Don’t worry, my dear, she’ll be perfectly all right. And if she has a little fun, for a change, it’s a good thing. He might even care for her. I would far rather she settled down with a decent man and forgot about trying to make a career.” She did not add, and especially after the disaster at the Foreign Office, but it was implicit. “And so would you!” She touched his arm lightly, and he quickly put his hand over hers.
“Yes, of course,” he agreed. “It’s just…not like her.”
“People change,” she answered him. “You always say Margot is too easy to please, and Elena is not easy enough. According to Margot, she really liked this young man, and he seemed both charming and sound.”
“Was he Italian?” Charles asked a little nervously.
“No, he was English, and a Cambridge graduate, so Margot said. In fact, she rather liked him herself.”
“Well, she could let Elena have this one,” he said a little tartly. “And Elena could have had the courtesy to let us know she was staying in Rome for a few extra days.” He looked across at Lucas, and there was a slight edge to his voice. “I don’t suppose she told you?”
“No,” Lucas said with surprise. Although it should not actually have surprised him. He knew Elena was closer to him than she was to her father.
They spoke about Rome for a little while, and about Paris. They had all spent time in both cities, during the war and afterward. Charles and Katherine had lived in the embassy in Paris for two and a half years. It was a city that enchanted, whether you wanted it to or not.
Katherine declined help in clearing away the soup plates and allowed Charles only to carry in the baked ham with peaches, though he was not permitted to carve it.
