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‘No it’s all right, Leila. You might be right, Frau Hoffman,’ replied Minki, stubbing out the cigarette. ‘But in matters of the heart, you have to follow your instinct, don’t you? You can’t look at a man and say to yourself, “he may not be what I really want, but he earns enough money, or has nice hands, or owns a lovely dog.” No, if you’re going to marry a man, you must really love him. My mother didn’t love my father. I think she married him because he was rich and would give her a comfortable life. But he was also a bit of a bully, and he made her life hell. I’m sure that’s why she got ill.’ She looked momentarily wistful, and lit another cigarette.
Leila reached across the table, and took her friend’s hand. ‘Don’t think about it, Minki.’ Then, glaring at her mother, she added: ‘Let’s stop talking about marriage, shall we?’
After lunch the two girls headed off to find Minki’s bridesmaid dress at the second-hand shop. Helga, the owner, rummaged along the rails and pulled out a pale-blue dress, its skirt made of tiers of silk chiffon.
‘This would suit you,’ she said. ‘I bought it from a rich woman the other day – she had gambling debts, so I got it for a good price. I can pass the discount on to you. Try it on.’
Emerging from the makeshift changing room, Minki stood in front of the mirror. The chiffon skirt rippled as she moved.
‘Oh, Minki,’ said Leila. ‘You look wonderful.’
‘Do you think so? I worry it’s a little tight…’
She yanked the dress down over her hips. ‘I must be eating too much.’
‘Maybe the straps need to be lengthened a little,’ suggested Helga, releasing one strap and pulling the dress down a few centimetres. ‘I can do that for you in an hour or two.’
‘What about a hat?’ asked Leila, looking around the shop.
‘Oh, I don’t want to buy a hat,’ said Minki. ‘I’ll go and see my friend Franziska tomorrow – you remember her, the “Queen of Schwabing”? She has heaps of lovely things buried away in her bedroom.’
‘You look like an angel,’ Franziska declared, admiring Minki in the bridesmaid’s outfit the following day.
‘I just need a hairpiece or something to finish it off,’ said Minki, running her hands through her blond hair. ‘Feathers perhaps?’
‘No, I have a better idea.’ Franziska moved a picture on the wall of her bedroom, revealing a small metal safe. Fiddling with the combination lock, she opened the metal door. Reaching in, she took out a tiara. It was made of white and blue stones, which shimmered and gleamed in the light.
She turned and held out the delicate tiara. ‘I think you should wear this.’
‘My God…Is it real?’
‘Of course it’s real. It’s made of diamonds and aquamarine. Here – take it.’
‘No…it’s too much, I couldn’t possibly…’
‘Try it on at least,’ Franziska urged.
Minki took the tiara and studied it, fondling it gently in her hands. ‘Franziska…this is extraordinary. Where did you get it?’
‘I inherited it.’
‘Who from?’
‘My mother, of course.’
‘Your mother?’
‘Don’t look so surprised. I’ve always told you I come from good stock. My real name is…the Countess vonReventlow.’ She smiled tightly.
‘You…are a countess?’
Franziska nodded. ‘I am. My family had to flee Russia after the revolution. My parents, my brother…they were all murdered. I am the sole survivor.’
‘Franziska – why did you never tell me this before?’ asked Minki, wrapping her arms round her friend.
‘Shame, I suppose. To fall so far from grace is embarrassing. Now try the tiara on. I know it will suit you.’
Minki threaded the tiara through her hair.
