Whisper of the Moon Moth by Lindsay Jayne Ashford

Author:Lindsay Jayne Ashford
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781542045575
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
Published: 2017-09-30T23:00:00+00:00

Lunch was brought in while they worked together on the fake biography. Smoked salmon and caviar on a silver tray with a chilled bottle of Chablis and two crystal glasses. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.

“I think we should say you were born somewhere obscure—not Britain, but a white British colony,” he said as he poured out the wine. “Have you ever heard of Tasmania?”

“No. Where is it?”

“It’s an island off Australia. I was reading about it the other day. Some fellow from there has just broken the record for flying around the world. You wouldn’t need to do much research to convince people you were Tasmanian.”

“Tasmanian,” she echoed, trying the word for size. “Yes—I think I could do that.” She spooned caviar onto a roll of smoked salmon.

“I think we should keep India in the story, though,” he went on. “It’s probably safest to say both your parents are dead, that you were taken to India when they died to be brought up by your godparents.” He raised the glass to his lips and put it down without drinking. “I know! We’ll say you grew up in a maharaja’s palace, that your godfather was the estate manager—something like that. It gives you that air of exoticism while giving you solid English ancestry.”

He’d caught her with her mouth full. She held up her hand as she swallowed. “But my mother’s here—in London.”

“You’ll have to keep quiet about that.” He stroked his chin. “Perhaps you could say she was your housekeeper.”

Estelle couldn’t conceal her reaction.

“I’m sorry if that sounds harsh.” He leaned forward to top up her glass. “It’s not the same, I know, but I had to completely reinvent myself when I left Hungary.” He leaned back in his chair. “My parents owned a spice shop in Budapest. When my father died I helped my mother to run it, but anti-Jewish laws forced us to close. So I started writing film reviews to support the family. I have two brothers, who were still at school then. But it was a bad time to be a Jew in Hungary after the Great War. Have you ever heard of the White Terror?”

She shook her head.

“Thousands of Jews were executed. I was arrested and . . .” He broke off with a sigh. “You don’t want to know all that. Anyway, I was lucky—they didn’t kill me. After that I changed my name, tried to make myself less Jewish. I went to Austria, then to America, and now I’m here.” He gestured to the remains of the food on the tray. “If you think all this is a little extravagant, it’s because I’ve known what it’s like to have nothing. The point I’m trying to make is that we must all do what we have to in order to survive. It may be hard, but this is a tough industry. If you’re going to make it, you’ve got to do whatever it takes to blend in.”

Estelle watched him as he lifted his glass, inhaling the scent of the Chablis before tilting the rim toward his mouth.

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