Roots of Evil(150)

‘Oh God, that we should end by living in a world where all roads lead to the M25.’

‘It’s probably better tarmacked than the Golden Road to Samarkand, though.’

‘Then we’ll make a start there,’ said Liam, and took his hand from the steering-wheel to briefly enclose hers. ‘You never know, Lucy, we might find the Golden Road just when we’d decided it didn’t exist.’



Michael had led the way to a large bedroom at the back of the house. There was a deep wide bed, and he fetched clean sheets from the airing cupboard.

‘And there’s a spare toothbrush and sponge in the bathroom,’ he said. ‘I expect Alice will probably lend you pyjamas or something if you want.’

The thought of sleeping in pyjamas belonging to the infamous Lucretia von Wolff was very nearly irresistible, but Fran said that actually she had brought toothbrush and night things with her, following Michael’s original suggestion that they might stay overnight at the White Hart.

‘Oh yes, I’d forgotten that. It feels like a hundred years ago now. Would you like a last drink? Or a cup of tea or anything?’

Fran considered, and then said, ‘A cup of tea would be nice. Shall I help you make it? Your hand—’

‘No, I can manage,’ he said, and vanished.

I suppose, thought Fran, it’s up to me to give him a signal. Or is it? Oh bother, I’m completely out of practice with this kind of thing. Do I want to give a signal? Oh, don’t be stupid, of course I do! She padded into the adjoining bathroom, undressed and washed, brushed her teeth, wrapped herself in a towelling robe that hung on the door and scooted back to the bedroom.

When Michael came back with the tea, the curtains were drawn, and Fran had switched on a small bedside lamp, so that the room was bathed in a soft glow.

His eyes took in the scene at once, and he put the tea down and came over to the bed. ‘Nice lighting,’ he said with that glint of humour that was becoming familiar. ‘Shall I stay while you drink your tea? I’ve brought a cup for myself, but I can take it to my own room.’

‘Well, you could stay,’ said Fran carefully. ‘Although I’m wondering if I actually want a cup of tea after all.’

‘Oh good,’ he said, pulling her into his arms.





FINALE




‘Vienna gets jam-packed on New Year’s Eve,’ said Michael, meeting Lucy and Francesca with Liam at Vienna’s airport. ‘Mostly for the Opera House, of course. It’s all terribly traditional – the Radetzsky March, and so on – but I like traditions. And there’s always a terrific atmosphere.’

‘It’s got a terrific atmosphere now,’ said Francesca, looking out of the windows. ‘I’ve never been to Vienna before.’

‘People say that the pavements thrum with music,’ said Michael. ‘And that you can feel it.’

‘Can you?’

‘No idea. That’s the Opera House across there.’

Lucy, who was sitting in the back of the car with Liam, said, ‘Alice danced there with Conrad, didn’t she? It was one of the things she said kept her going while she was a prisoner. That she would one day dance with him again, to his own music.’



‘We are going to make a terrific entrance tomorrow night,’ said Alice, later that afternoon.

‘The baroness’s return,’ Lucy could not help saying.

‘Exactly. Like those films where the villain disappears in the final frame in a burning building or over the Reichenbach Falls, but vows to return.’

‘You’re not a villain,’ said Francesca, smiling.

‘No, but I’m returning from the dead.’

‘Can you?’ said Lucy. ‘I mean – you’ve spent the last fifty-odd years keeping all those secrets—’

‘Oh, no one will know who I am,’ said Alice at once. ‘But they will all think I am a person of immense importance, and they will perhaps speculate a little and I shall enjoy that. Now, show me what you’ll both be wearing tomorrow—Oh yes, that’s absolutely lovely, Lucy dear. I’m glad you go for those bronze shades – they’re exactly right with your hair. Silk? Yes, and it’s a good silk, isn’t it? Francesca, let me see—No, hold it to the light – that’s beautiful, my dear, really beautiful. Green’s one of your best colours, I think. Show me the back…Yes,’ said the lady who had been dressed by Schiaparelli and Lanvin and had worn jewellery from Cartier with careless indifference, ‘yes, you will both look tremendous tomorrow night and I shall be very proud to be seen with you. I wonder – would either of you be offended if I made you a small gift? Lucy, there is a gold necklace – very plain, very modern – but I think it would go with that neckline. And some jade earrings that I think are just the colour of Francesca’s gown…Please do accept them. It would give me a lot of pleasure.’

‘And what about you?’ said Lucy. ‘What will you be wearing?’

The mischievous smile showed. ‘My dears,’ said Lucretia von Wolff, ‘I shall be more formal than you can possibly imagine, and I shall make the finest entrance of my life.’



The ballroom was crowded when they finally reached it. Alice walked slowly but unhurriedly, as if she might be saying, I will take my time about this. There is a great deal to absorb, and I am going to enjoy all of it.