Page 129 of The Last Night in London
“You seem to be in good spirits tonight,” Alex said as he helped her from the taxi.
She sent him a brilliant smile, met his eyes. “I am. I suppose I’m thinking that this war can’t go on much longer. That should make all of us happy.”
He placed her hand on his arm, his hand pressing against hers. “That it should,” he said with his own smile as he escorted her to the coat check.
He’d questioned the absence of the mink when he’d picked her up, saying it was too cold for just a fox fur stole, and she’d had to insist that the fox looked better with her gown. She was relieved when he’d relented; she certainly couldn’t tell him she wasn’t wearing the mink because she’d sold it and that the money was currently in a small pouch pinned to her garter.
A pinprick of anticipation touched her spine as she caught sight of the strange man in the hotel uniform standing where Mr. Danekshould have been. He nodded obsequiously as they approached. “Good evening, Mr. Grof. Madame. May I take your coats?”
Alex lifted her fox stole and her handbag and handed them to the man.
“Where is Mr. Danek?” Eva asked.
The man’s face pinched. “I beg your pardon?”
“Mr. Danek. The man who works the cloakroom in the evening. I expected to see him here tonight.”
“I apologize, madame. I usually work in the dining room but was asked to work here tonight. I wasn’t given an explanation as to why.”
She forced a smile. “Of course. Well, no matter.” She turned away and slipped her hand back onto Alex’s arm, as if she’d already forgotten Mr. Danek. But she hadn’t. As they descended the stairs to the subterranean Abraham Lincoln suite, where the best parties were now held, she casually looked around for David. Mr. Danek’s absence had shifted the night off-kilter, as if everyone had started walking backward without explanation.
“Are you looking for someone?” Alex asked.
She managed to keep her mask in place. “Just anyone familiar, really. It’s easier to eat and converse with someone we already know, don’t you think?”
He murmured something too quietly for her to understand. She continued to search in vain for David, the pinpricks of unease becoming more like nails driven by a thudding hammer, impossible to ignore.
As soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs, they were swept up in a crowd of familiar faces and seated at a table in the front, near the bandstand. Eva wore a Cartier wristwatch, the same model gifted to Princess Elizabeth by Mr. Cartier himself, according to Alex, and she surreptitiously glanced at it throughout the interminable dinner, amid constant interruptions to dance and chat and pretend.
She forced herself to eat even though each bite made her ill; she knew that Alex would notice if she didn’t. She continued to scan the crowd in vain for David, or Mr. Danek, or even Graham, waiting for eleven o’clock, the designated time she was to beg Alex to take her back to her flat. To tell him that she wanted him to come upstairswith her. Her stomach lurched at the thought, the taste of bile bitter in the back of her throat. Only the thought of being free of him, of knowing her mother and Precious were safe and seeing Graham again, calmed her nerves, made her think again of possibilities.
At around a quarter past ten, Alex excused himself to speak with a friend he’d spotted across the room. Eva was relieved, his absence giving her the opportunity to move through the crowd unimpeded. But by forty-five minutes past the hour, she’d still seen no sign of David or Mr. Danek or Graham, and a full rush of panic consumed her. She lingered by a potted palm, sure she would disgrace herself and throw up her dinner. But thinking of Graham, of showing him how brave and strong she could be, helped her regain her wits and move stoically away, back into the middle of the crowd.
When her wristwatch showed eleven, she went in search of Alex. Not until she’d finished making her rounds and inquiring about acquaintances with no success did the panic overwhelm her, making her knees fail her. She staggered, caught herself on the wall. Forced herself to swallow her fear. Tried to clear her head.
A tap on her shoulder made her jump. A dark-haired woman stood behind her, holding out Eva’s purse, the box purse that Precious had given her. It took Eva a moment to realize she was the woman in the red dress who had danced with Graham that night at the Dorchester.
“You left this in the cloakroom. A mutual friend said you might need it.”
“A friend? Is Graham here?”
The woman pretended she hadn’t heard her, backing away until she was absorbed by the crowd. Eva looked at the purse, remembered checking it alongside her fur stole. Remembered, too, the time she and Graham had been alone together in the cloakroom and he’d told her she should be careful, that people were searching through pockets and purses there.
Walking deliberately, she made her way toward the stairs, remembering to smile and nod. The lobby was nearly deserted, most revelers still in the basement. The coat check man stood with hisback to her, and Eva quickly ducked around the corner, out of sight. She wasn’t sure why. She was sure only that something was terribly, horribly wrong.
In an empty alcove, she opened the purse, her fingers trembling so that it took three tries. She stared inside, certain the purse couldn’t be hers. Yet she recognized her lipstick. Her compact. The white ivory dolphin she always carried, along with the pin, carefully wrapped in Graham’s handkerchief. The small key to her flat.
And nestled against the side lay the pistol Mr. Danek had shown her how to use in the ruins of a church. He had kept it, promising to make sure she’d have it when she needed it. It was small, small enough that it fit in her hand, and easy to use. But accurate only if one stood very close to the target.
Eva trembled, wondering why she might have need of it now.
Next to the pistol lay a folded cocktail menu. Eva pulled it out, skipping over the printed items, studying the handwriting.Jsi v nebezpecí. Utíkej!It was written in Czech. Between Mr. Danek and Alex, she’d learned enough of the language to understand it, although she could read Czech better than she could speak it. That was what Mr. Danek had said, and that was why he would have written this message to her in Czech so not just anyone could open her purse and read it.
Except for Alex, of course. And she suspected he already knew.
Eva focused on holding the menu still, studying the words, trying to think. The blood thundered in her ears. She slowly translated the third and fourth words, and when she said them out loud, she started to shake.Danger.Run.
Somehow, she managed to shove the menu back into the purse. Knowing she shouldn’t request her stole or enter the lobby at all, she exited through a side door and walked two blocks before trying to summon a taxi away from the hotel. After ten minutes without a single taxi driving by, she gave up.
