The Last Night in London by Karen White (reading list .TXT) 📕

“Are you asking if I had a lover, too?”

Her candor took me by surprise, but I tried not to show it. “Yes. Did you?”

“You should go to Kew today.” Precious was focused now on the photograph she held. “The cherry blossoms are so beautiful. Colin would love to take you, I’m sure.”

“It’s raining, Nana,” Colin said. “I’ll go get Laura. I think you need to rest.”

I put the lens cover on my camera and stood, leaning over to kiss her soft cheek. “Thank you, Precious. I’ll keep looking for Eva. I’m sure if we find her, we’ll find Graham, too.”

Colin returned with Laura, and we said our good-byes as Laura escorted Precious back to her bedroom.

“What did you think of that?” Colin asked, pulling on his raincoat.

“I’m not sure. But there’s definitely a story there. The good news is that now we can start looking for Graham, which might be easier, given his military record, and that might lead us to Eva.” I looked pointedly at his raincoat. “I assume this means you’re not taking me to Kew Gardens?”

His smile was as unexpected as it was charming, reminding me of the man in the photograph. “Not today, at any rate.” He seemed to consider his next words, before saying, “I was going to head back to the office for a couple of hours, but we could do an early supper, if you like. We can make a plan of action on the best ways to find Eva Harlow and my great-uncle Graham. Unless you have other plans, of course.”

I should have said no. It was too hard spending time with him and pretending to be indifferent. It had always been that way, but in college there had been other guys with whom I could deflect my interest. And his.

Besides, I had plans to go over my notes and browse the Internet for wartime photographs of the Paris fashion scene. But he looked so earnest, and I’d been so occupied taking notes that I’d hardly eaten anything at tea. “Sure. But can we go somewhere that serves normal food? I’m dying for a hamburger. Or barbecue. Either one of those is fine.”

He quirked an eyebrow at the word “normal” but didn’t say anything. “All right. I believe there are a few options on the high street.”

“Let me run and get my jacket.”

I found it buried under a mound of Precious’s clothes on my bed, where I’d placed it before digging through one of the boxes that hadn’t fit in the guest room. As I was fastening the large button at the neck, I thought I could smell the faint scent of old perfume clinging to the fabric. It was gone quickly, making me wonder if I’d imagined it. But it had somehow tugged loose a memory from an earlier conversation with Precious, when we’d first asked her if she’d like us to find Eva. Just because a person is lost doesn’t mean they want to be found. And I wondered for the first time if she hadn’t been talking about Eva at all.

CHAPTER 13

LONDON

MARCH 1939

Eva patted her hair to smooth any stray strands, catching sight of herself and Precious in the reflection of the hotel lobby door before a uniformed bellman opened it for them. She smiled without looking at him, the way she’d noticed many of the clients at Lushtak’s did when encountering anyone in a service capacity. It was their way of showing appreciation while not lowering themselves.

She felt the appreciative stares as she and Precious crossed the black-and-white marble-tiled floor, their heels making gratifying clicks. She walked as if she were modeling, using a slow, steady pace to hide her nervousness. To act as if she belonged at Claridge’s. Precious, her näiveté always misconstrued as confidence, simply moved forward as if tea at Claridge’s were her due.

Sophia was already seated beneath the fluted arch when they arrived, making Eva falter, wondering if she’d gotten the time wrong. But Sophia smiled, stood to share air-kisses on each cheek, and fluttered her hands, as if to fling away Eva’s apologies.

“I’m always dreadfully early, so I should be the one apologizing. Even Mother complains, saying I was an entire week early when I was born.” She turned to Precious, her smile growing wider. “And this must be the lovely Miss Dubose whom Eva and Graham have told me so much about.”

“I hope it was all good.” Precious returned the smile. “And please, call me Precious. All of my friends do.”

“Splendid,” Sophia said, indicating the two seats on either side of her. “Only if you call me Sophia. I daresay I’ve heard so much about you that I feel as if we’re already friends.”

Eva relaxed, calmly sitting in the chair being held by a discreet maître d’. She even remembered not to look at him.

After they’d placed their orders, Sophia regarded Eva and Precious with open admiration, which was a relief—Eva had taken nearly two hours to dress. Her room was strewn with discarded outfits she’d considered before finding the knee-length pale blue suit with the formfitting belted jacket and adorable white pointed collar. It was the perfect mix of new and modern, elegance and poise.

Precious had known precisely what she would wear, a tea dress in lemon-colored silk chiffon, and had been dressed and waiting a good half hour before Eva was ready.

“You both look absolutely stunning,” Sophia said. “I suppose I should never agree to be seen in public with either one of you because I dread the comparisons, but my guess would be that we’ll be seeing quite a lot of one another. I daresay that Graham is quite smitten with you, Eva.”

“Really?” was all Eva could think to say.

“Surely you know. And I can’t tell you how many people have asked me about the gorgeous creature that Graham’s been sporting on his arm of late. They think you’re a foreign princess or some such nonsense. Not