Page 23 of The Last Night in London
Eva, painfully aware that she hadn’t fooled Mr. Danek at all, considered standing up and leaving the café but instead remained where she was and nodded.
“There is an old saying in my country.Ceho nelze predelati, darmo na tožehrati.Loosely translated, it means, take the world as you find it.”
Eva frowned, not understanding. She was always much better with black and white, with numbers and exact prices for goods exchanged. Proverbs were like the fairy tales her mother had told her as a child, stories about make-believe people in pretend worlds that had nothing to do with putting food in her stomach.
Mr. Danek took one of her hands in his. “It means that you cannot control everything, Eva. Let things happen as they are meant to happen, or you will go mad.”
Her anger boiled to the surface, and she spoke before she could think better of it. “Like your country? Why fight Hitler if he’s going to win anyway?”
Mr. Danek kept smiling. “Maybe it is more about choosing what is most important to us. And choosing the time to fight for what we believe to be right. You, Eva, are too young and beautiful to be doing anything but enjoying life right now.” His face darkened. “Life is short and unpredictable. Enjoy it while you can.”
She looked down at her hands. “I love Graham. I don’t want anything to change.”
“Things always change, Eva. You cannot control change. You can only be prepared for it.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant but was eager to leave before his words intruded into her conscience too deeply. “I must go. Good-bye,Mr. Danek. We’ll talk again soon.” She stood and began to walk quickly toward the door.
Mr. Danek called after her, “I have another lipstick for you. Brand-new, from Max Factor, only available in Hollywood. I hear it is a favorite of Carole Lombard.”
Eva wanted to leave, to show him that she didn’t care, that she couldn’t be tempted by a lipstick. But he’d taken off the lid to show her the deep cherry red shade, the perfect color for the gown she was planning to wear to Sophia’s dinner party. Against her will, she walked back, her hand reaching to accept the lipstick before she could tell it to stop.
“It’s beautiful,” she said. “Thank you.” She turned toward the door again but paused. “Mr. Danek, it’s not my way to let the world unfold as it wants. If it were, I’d be doing laundry in Yorkshire with my mother.”
“Very admirable. That sort of courage will steer you well. And your Mr. St. John would agree, yes? If he knew, of course.”
Eva wanted to be angry with him for judging her. But his eyes held such despair and sadness that she held back. Her mother’s eyes had been the same, seeming to darken every year, until Eva was sure if she didn’t leave, she’d drown in their reflected misery.
“Good-bye, Mr. Danek. Thank you again for the lipstick,” she said instead, and left the café. She walked down the sidewalk, the swish of her new skirt and the tapping of her suede shoes buoying her mood again until she’d almost forgotten the sadness in Mr. Danek’s eyes and everything that he had told her. Almost.
CHAPTER 8
LONDON
MAY 2019
Once again, I found myself flying down the highway with Arabella in the red BMW, this time headed toward Colin’s parents’ home in Guildford, Surrey. My phone buzzed, and I didn’t need to look at it to know it was Cassie calling me again for my answer about coming home for Christmas and Knoxie’s wedding. If there was one thing I knew about my aunt, it was that she was more persistent than a termite in an old barn.
The day was warm and sunny—or warm and sunny for England in the spring—and Arabella had the top down. As we passed yet another car on the motorway, I recognized familiar looks of shock as the passengers stared in our direction.
“There are speed limits in the UK, right?” I asked, shouting over the wind.
Arabella actually appeared to be thinking. “I believe so.” Her phone, resting in the cupholder, rang. “Could you please answer that and tell whoever it is to call my assistant, Mia? She’s been instructed to hold all of my calls today while I’m working away from the office. Unless thatisMia.”
I sent her a sidelong glance as I looked at the screen. We were ona mission to find Precious’s lost friend, Eva, and discover anything else we could about Precious’s past. Arabella was seeing her idea for the article growing into something much larger than either of us had originally imagined, from what was an article simply about fashion before and during the war years into a personal look at the lives, loves, and friendships of the people who’d experienced it all firsthand. This was why we were headed to Surrey and why she could consider this drive “working away from the office.”
“It’s someone named Wil. There’s no picture.”
Her cheeks pinkened. “Oh. Well, then. Could you please respond with a message telling him that I’ll ring him back later?”
“Sure,” I said, tapping at the screen. I didn’t ask her who Wil was. It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested—I was. It was just that I didn’t like to reciprocate with information about myself. Besides, I knew she’d tell me eventually.
“What’s in the extra bag?” Arabella asked, indicating the backseat.
“Yesterday’s picnic lunch. Laura packed it up for Colin and me, but Colin had to go back to the office. So I brought it for us. You like pimiento cheese, right?”
She made a face, which I silently cheered; that meant more for me. “Yes, well, I don’t think we’ll need it. It’s only a little over an hour’s drive, and Aunt Penelope is planning on lunch for us.” She glanced over at me. “I’m still not sure why Colin didn’t come. He mentioned that he’s interested in helping with the research and seemed quite excited by it.”
I didn’t say anything, just kept my gaze focused on the rapidly disappearing asphalt in front of us. I heard her groan over the rushing wind. “Does he not know?”
