Page 35 of The Gathering Storm

Tata moved closer and lowered her voice. ‘Natalie never calls him Nicholas. She refers to him just as “the prince”. She likes to keep him to herself and not share him with anyone. And he’s rather proud, and doesn’t speak to people he doesn’t know well.’ She looked pensive. ‘In Russia, of course, there were many princes, but—’

‘Yes?’

She looked up at him seriously. ‘I saw him one time with a woman he called his sister. They certainly seemed like brother and sister together. She was introduced to me just as “Lydia”. But I noticed that she had a thing, a sort of lump, on the third finger of her right hand, here.’ She demonstrated on herself. ‘She seemed self-conscious about it. When she saw me looking, she covered it with her left hand.’ She paused.

‘Very well,’ James said. ‘Not the most exciting thing I’ve heard tonight, but—’

She gave him a troubled look. ‘I told you, Shems, that when I was a child, at Tsarskoye Selo, all the Tsar’s children used to come to the hospital. I saw them all, I spoke to them. Grand Duchess Marie had a lump on the third finger of her right hand, where she’d caught it in a car door once. She was self-conscious about it. If she saw you looking, she would cover it with her other hand.’

James stared at her. ‘You think this “Lydia” was Grand Duchess Marie? But – then, if this Monsieur Chebodarev is her brother, doesn’t that mean—?’

Tata reached up quickly and laid her fingers on his lips. ‘Don’t say it!’ She looked around, to see if anyone was near enough to hear. ‘I should not have told you. Forget it, please. I am foolish and talk nonsense. It was just nonsense. Oh, look!’ Her change of tone was blatant, and she seized his arm in what looked like excitement, but which hurt in an admonitory way. ‘Look, there’s Vera, just arriving! Come and meet her.’

He recognised the film star from her motion pictures – the pale, classical face, clouds of black hair and soulful dark eyes. She was wearing a flowing gown of black with a large, swirling, many-coloured pattern. Her hair was decorated with jewelled turkey-quills, and large earrings dangling from her lobes. Her slightly slanting eyes were outlined with kohl, and her full lips matched the blood red of her nails. Despite the heat in the room, a long black crêpe scarf was wound around her neck up to her chin. She looked as though she expected to be looked at – James would have known, even if he didn’t know, that she was a film star.

‘This is Shems, Vera,’ Tata said.

She held out her hand automatically, and he thought she might like a little homage, so he bowed over it and lifted it to his lips in the continental style. ‘Enchanté, Madame,’ he said. ‘Vraiment enchanté.’

She examined his face quickly and sharply, like, he thought, a policeman or a border official used to making rapid assessments. Close to, he realised she was considerably older than she appeared at a distance, or on the screen. He guessed – though he was no expert – that she must be about forty. In the Hollywood world where, for a woman, youth was everything, he thought it must be rather frightening to hear Time’s chariot wheels behind you. Still, he couldn’t help being excited. This was Vera Bergdorf, whom he had seen only days ago on a giant screen at the Grand Rex, closing her enormous eyes and pouting her luscious lips for Marcel André’s kiss. This was the same her, here, in the flesh. For the first time he felt the awe celebrity engenders.

‘I saw you in Le Deuxième, Madame,’ he said. ‘I thought you were wonderful.’

Now she smiled, and her whole face changed. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Tata says you are English. I am going to London on Friday. Do you live in London?’

‘I live in Paris now, but I come from Yorkshire. My father had an estate there.’

‘Ah, Yorkshire. I was told it is a very beautiful place. I must visit it some time. How do you know Natalie?’

‘Tata introduced me. She is teaching me Russian.’

‘And how do you know Tata?’

‘I was recommended to her by the Maison de l’Évangile.’

‘Ah, yes. Mrs Richardson’s mission.’ This seemed to satisfy all the great lady’s curiosity, and she bowed her head slightly to James and moved away.

Tata took hold of his arm and said breathlessly, ‘She liked you, Shems! Isn’t she wonderful?’

‘It’s the first time I’ve met a real movie star,’ he said, and she seemed pleased.

‘We are all so proud of her. And Natalie likes you, too. I knew she would. Lots of people have been talking to me about you.’

‘There’s nothing to say about me,’ he said. ‘I’m nobody important.’

‘Nina Berberov thought you might be in the movies too, because you’re so handsome,’ Tata said.

He laughed. ‘Now that’s enough of that, or I shall be embarrassed.’ He glanced around. ‘Would anyone be offended if we left now? The noise is rather overwhelming when you’re not used to it. Would you like to go somewhere for a quiet supper?’

‘I’d love to,’ Tata said.

When they were out in the street, she slipped her hand through his arm, and he pressed it affectionately against his ribs. ‘Shems,’ she said in English, ‘I must say something serious to you.’

He stopped and looked down at her. She gazed up into his face earnestly. ‘Are you really going to Russia?’

‘You know I am.’

‘Then, listen, Shems. You must be careful. The Soviets are bad, crazy people. They watch you all the time. You will be followed and spied on. They listen to everything you say. And if they don’t like you, they come in the middle of the night and take you away, and you’re never seen again.’