Odalisque (Black Lace) by Fleur Reynolds

Author:Fleur Reynolds [Reynolds, Fleur]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780753516799
Publisher: Ebury Publishing
Published: 2008-09-04T07:00:00+00:00

7

Jeanine woke at dawn, jumped out of bed and drew back the heavy gold silk curtains from the French windows. It was a beautiful morning. She stood staring out into her small walled garden enjoying the sight of the honeysuckle and the ivy, the pink begonias and the white geraniums. There was, she thought, a special quality to the early morning summer light. It had a soft blueness to it that no other time possessed. She stretched lazily and smiled. Then she remembered the two odd-balls Petrov had sent the evening before. A shadow crossed her brow. No, she would not think negatively. They could turn out to be a blessing in disguise. She went to her wardrobe, sorted out the day’s clothes, tidied her room then bathed and dressed. Her body felt alive, healthy and cleansed. She felt good. She had no inkling of what was to lie ahead.

Downstairs, she collected her post then went to her office to sort out the daily routine. Sister Pierre was on the door and wished her good morning. The murmur of voices and the sound of tinkling china came from the dining-room. Obviously all was well and Jeanine’s fears of the night before seemed utterly groundless. She made a few telephone calls, then noticed that a message had come through on the fax. It was dated late the previous evening and written in her mother’s elegant scrawl. ‘Darling, married Sir Henry de Bouys in Rome today. Arriving in London the day after tomorrow after our brief honeymoon. Will telephone. Love Mother.’

Jeanine could not believe her eyes. She was gob-smacked. Her mother married again! And to Sir Henry de Bouys. She couldn’t contact her mother because there was no address on the fax. They must have gone off on Sir Henry’s yacht and there was nothing more Jeanine could do except wait for her mother’s call. The shock of the news made Jeanine hungry. She would take breakfast. She would sample Leslie’s cooking.

The dining-room was fairly full. Rose, the plump little waitress, came over and took Jeanine’s order of scrambled eggs, toast and coffee. The Brooklyn couple passed her table and Jeanine bade them good morning. They smiled and took their seats. The three Misses from Nebraska were drinking coffee with sour expressions. Jeanine sipped at hers. It was passable. She’d had worse, but Jeanine made a mental note to buy an espresso machine. There was no sign of Mr Sawyer or Mrs Maclean. She nodded to the English couple who gave her a curt nod in reply. She bade them good morning and the couple managed a wan smile in return. This alarmed her slightly.

Sally looked apologetic when she brought the toast, which was burnt. She was nearly in tears when she presented Jeanine with flaccid bacon lying forlornly beside a rubbery yellow concoction floating in greyish liquid. A precarious thread that had already been stretched to breaking point suddenly snapped within Jeanine. She was mute with fury. She gripped the table top to stop herself from throwing the offending plate at the girl.

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