Page 27 of The Last Night in London
“This isn’t about the wedding, Maddie, although we’re waiting for that answer, too. I’m calling about those tests results. Dr. Grey didn’t say anything, but I know enough to be concerned if she’s requested you make an appointment to discuss them. I’d sleep a whole heck of a lot better knowing you’d made an appointment already. Sam told me not to worry, but you’re like a daughter to me. It’s like telling a bullfrog not to croak.”
“I will, Aunt Cassie—eventually. I’m just in the middle of something, and I’ll think about it when I get back to the States.”
“But you shouldn’t wait, sweetheart....”
“I’ve got to go,” I said, cutting her off. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” I pressed the red “disconnect” button and ended the call, knowing as I did so that my aunt wouldn’t give up that easily.
After a moment of silence, Arabella said, “I know I’m a bit chatty, but I’m a good listener, too. If there’s anything you need to talk about, I’m here. I’m a good secret keeper, as well. Just ask Colin.”
I looked at her in surprise. “Colin has secrets?”
She gave me a sideways glance. “Everyone has secrets, Maddie.”
I turned away and watched the road flash by, my eyes focusing on the rivulets of water on my window. My thoughts drifted back to the elusive Eva’s cigarette case found inside Precious’s purse, and the Latin engraving.Betray before you are betrayed.
“What do you think that Latin phrase on the cigarette case is all about?” I asked.
“I’ve been wondering the same thing. There are so many ways a person can be betrayed, aren’t there? Betrayals of the heart, or within families, or by employers or employees. Political betrayals. It’s a wonder we can sleep at night with all those possibilities.”
I turned back to the window, thinking of another kind of betrayal, one Arabella hadn’t mentioned. The kind a person was born with, the kind that sat like a ticking time bomb in the middle of their life, waiting to explode.
“It’s a wonder,” I said quietly before flipping on the radio to drown out my thoughts and the buzzing of my phone, which wouldn’t stop no matter how hard I wished that it would.
CHAPTER 9
LONDON
MARCH 1939
Eva sat at the dressing table in the models’ room at Lushtak’s with her back to the mirror and her eyes closed. Gently, Mr. Danek applied a shimmery eye color to her lids from a small jar. When she felt him lean back, she opened her eyes and smiled. “Well?”
“Perfection. You hardly need anything—your skin is like porcelain. Just a little rouge, hmm?”
She nodded as he reached for another small jar. Mrs. Williams bustled in, holding a peach satin gown draped carefully over her arm. She studied Eva with pursed lips. “I think more mascara, Mr. Danek. She has such lovely eyes.” Her mouth broadened into a smile. “Your gown is pressed, and I found a fur stole from last year’s show that you can borrow. Just promise me you won’t damage any of it.” She closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her chest. “Promise me that. The show is next week, and I won’t have any time to resew seams or clean any stains.”
“I promise you, I will be more than careful.”
Mr. Danek swiped a small brush against the black mascara compact. Looking up so he could apply it to her upper lashes, Eva said,“And I can’t thank you both enough. I wish you’d allow me to pay you for your time.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Williams said with a wave. “I’m here into the wee hours anyway, sewing for the show. This was a nice diversion. And I do appreciate the steak and kidney pie for my supper. That was very kind of you.”
“Likewise,” said Mr. Danek with a small smile.
Eva smiled back but avoided his gaze. She’d confessed to him that she didn’t want Graham to see where she lived, to smell the cooking grease and other odors from her neighbors as he climbed the steps to her flat. Soon she and Precious would find a more acceptable flat with the kind of address she wasn’t embarrassed about giving to taxi drivers. Or to Graham.
When Mr. Danek was finished, Eva sat back. “May I look now?”
At his nod, Eva spun around on the stool and stared at the woman in the glass. It was like staring into the future, like seeing the woman she’d always wanted to become, a woman of elegance and beauty. Of substance. A lady. She leaned forward, trying to find the laundress’s daughter, surprised by the thread of sadness that wrapped around her joy and squeezed. For one bright and fleeting moment, she found herself wishing that her mother was there to see her. To share this happiness.
“Your hair is lovely,” the seamstress said from behind her.
“Thank you, Mrs. Williams. I did it myself.” Eva reached up to touch the soft curls that framed her face and swept up at the back of her head in a tight chignon. She’d learned the style by poring over fashion magazines and studying the hairstyles of the actresses in the movies. She’d been shooed out of more than one newsstand for reading the magazines instead of purchasing them, but she’d needed the money for the new strappy gold high-heeled sandals she’d seen at Selfridges and set her heart on.
“Well, it looks like you went to one of those fancy salons, to be sure. Now,” the older woman said, her wide face splitting with a smile, “are you ready for the gown? I’ve altered it, so it should fit you like a glove.”
Eva let the peach-colored satin be slipped over her head, the fabric soft and liquid. “It’s...” She paused, unable to voice what it was like to have a dream come true. She had the sudden memory of her mother bent over a washboard, her once-beautiful hair dull and lifeless. Eva had been telling her about the movie she’d just seen,Libeled Ladywith Myrna Loy, about a beautiful heiress who wore beautiful clothes. Her mother had stopped her midsentence. “You’ll never be more than what you are. You’d best remember that.”
And Eva had. If only to prove her mother wrong.
