Den of Thieves (14 page)

‘Admit it, Cat,' teased Frank, ‘you're loving every moment. The excitement of never knowing what is going to happen next, your first taste of a foreign culture – think how your mind is expanding!'

‘The only thing expanding right now are my ankles. They've been bitten so badly they are swelling up.'

‘Poor little Cat. You should have stayed in your basket at home.'

‘I don't have a basket or a home, thanks for reminding me, Lord Francis of Boxton.'

‘No,' he said brightly, ‘but you have an adventure ahead of you and a job to do. Many girls would love to have the freedom you have.'

This was very true. ‘You're a good traveller, Frank,' I told him. ‘I need to listen to you more often.'

He grinned. ‘Look and learn, Cat; look and learn.'

*

The first thing Frank taught me was not to be too proud to ask directions. It was late as we passed the gates of Paris and headed into the centre of the town. Tall houses loomed up on either side of the road, chinks of light peeping through slatted shutters, striped awnings billowing, strings of washing swaying, fluttering like naval signals saying ‘Welcome to Paris, Cat Royal'. Closer to the centre the finer the houses became with ornate carvings and smart shopfronts of shining plate glass. Majestic trees rustled in the night breeze. The air was ripe with the scent of cooking – strange smells, pungent and rich.

We were supposed to be meeting Madame Beaufort at her lodgings near the Opera but the driver was too drunk to understand the address Joseph was shouting at him.

‘Why don't we ask someone the way?' I suggested.

‘No, no, Cat,' said Frank, getting out a map of Paris from his coat pocket. He spread it out and studied it carefully in the poor light from the carriage lanterns.

‘Do you know where we are?' I asked.

He shook his head. ‘But it can't be that difficult to follow a map. We must have come in through this gate.' He muttered away to himself, consulted Joseph, stared out of the window for inspiration, did everything but humble himself to ask one of the Parisians who were walking along the pavement only a few feet away.

‘It's on the right. I'm sure it is,' Frank said determinedly over an hour later as we passed a great palace of a building. I was losing faith in his map-reading skills. We'd already ended up in a cemetery, in a blind alley and in the middle of some very bemused nuns in a convent as they filed in to vespers. The horses dutifully turned right, clip-clopped on the cobblestones and came wearily to a halt.

‘We've stopped,' said Frank. ‘We must be almost there.'

‘Er, Frank,' I said, tapping his shoulder. ‘Look out my side.'

It was a moonless night. A darker expanse like a bolt of black silk glinting with starlight marked
the passage of the great river at the heart of the city, the Seine. Across the bridge in front of us, the buildings were dwarfed by two square towers rising behind the rooftops. It was a breathtaking sight: they were so tall they seemed to stretch to heaven like Jacob's ladder. All that was lacking were the angels climbing up and down.

‘Now I know where we are!' exclaimed Frank. I resisted the temptation to point out that he had been confidently claiming this for the past hour. ‘That must be Notre Dame, the cathedral of Paris.'

‘I thought we were supposed to be at the Opera.'

He shook the map out with just a hint of petulance.

‘Please, Frank, let us ask someone.' I was feeling exhausted. The thought of driving around in yet more circles held no attraction, not even to save Frank's pride.

‘There's no one to ask.'

I had to agree that the streets were almost completely silent at this late hour as Monday night shaded into Tuesday morning. A carriage flanked by uniformed men rattled past our stranded
vehicle, too fast for us to stop them. That was no good. It would have to be someone on foot.

Frank hopped out and approached a man huddled in a doorway. ‘Excusez-moi, monsieur,' he began in his best schoolroom French.

‘
Quoi
?' the man grunted.

‘
Ou est l'Opera
?'

‘
Quoi
?'

Frank was speaking louder and louder as if this would help the man understand him.

This was no good: we were getting nowhere. Frank would have to learn that, if you want directions, it was best not to pick on a halfwit beggar. I jumped down from the fiacre, determined to take matters into my own hands.

‘Look!' I tugged Frank's sleeve as I'd spotted a woman standing with her face to the wall, shielding herself from the dust kicked up by a passing carriage. ‘There's someone else. Let me ask her.' The woman was now moving swiftly, keeping to the shadows. We had to be quick if we were going to catch her.

‘Excusez-moi, madame!' I called. The woman
sped up, perhaps suspecting some assault as I too would have done in her situation. ‘We mean you no harm. We're lost!' I called after her.

She turned, her face shadowed in a deep hood, but I saw the faint sparkle of eyes wide with alarm. She was of middle age and dressed in black, but smelling of expensive perfume and powder.

‘Ssh!' she hissed, glancing over her shoulder as if fearful of pursuit. ‘You are English, yes? Did Count Fersen send you for me? Speak softly now.' Her accent was strange: French laced with a hint of German.

None of this made sense to me. ‘Sorry, madame, I don't know any Count Fersen. I was just saying that we were lost and wondered if you could direct us to the Opera?'

The woman's reaction was most strange. She sprang away from me without so much as a word and hurried off into the night.

‘Friendly soul,' I commented sourly to Frank as we got back into the coach. ‘French women are very odd. I mean, what is a lady of her quality
doing wandering around the streets at this time of night on her own?'

‘She probably had an assignation with this Fersen person,' said Frank with an air of worldly wisdom. ‘No wonder she dashed off; she probably didn't want to be recognized and cause a scandal.'

‘Well, that doesn't help us, does it? We're still lost.'

Frank gave me a wink and took out the map again. ‘Nothing else for it, eh, Cat? Got to trust me now your plan has failed?'

‘If you'd asked at the gate we would never have got ourselves into this mess.'

‘Ah, but where's the adventure in that? You would never have seen Notre Dame by starlight.'

‘That's right. I'd've been tucked up in bed, asleep. What a hardship!' I grumbled though I knew he was right. I would not have missed it for the world.

‘Come on, let's try again. If Captain Cook found his way to Australia, surely we can find our way to the Opera,' Frank said happily, consulting his map.

To give Frank his due, we did eventually find our way to Madame Beaufort's lodgings. It was with no feeling of regret that we waved our driver off. I doubted very much if he would make it far without steering into a ditch. Only Joseph's careful watch had prevented a like accident for us. But mercifully that was no longer our concern – all we needed do was find a bed and sleep.

The concierge of the apartment was waiting up for us and showed us through to where a cold supper had been laid out in the kitchen. I was almost asleep on my feet but Frank and Joseph managed to make a significant impact on the bread and meat between them.

‘Go on up to bed. You look like you need your beauty sleep,' said Frank when he noticed me nodding over my plate.

‘What are you going to do?' I asked, picking up my candle.

‘Well, as my honoured parents know nothing of my arrival, I suppose I'd better wait until morning before I burst in upon them.'

‘You can stay here,' said the concierge in a growl of a voice. He wore a red floppy cap on his sparse white hair and stooped as if perpetually searching for a pin on the floor. ‘In exchange for a small consideration, of course.'

‘That would be splendid.' Frank dug in his well-filled purse and threw the man a coin. The concierge's eyes twinkled with lively interest as he eyed my friend's riches. ‘Two blankets and two chairs by the fire are all we need.'

Leaving Frank and Joseph to catch what rest they could, I went upstairs. Madame Beaufort had lodged her girls all under one roof. Expecting to find myself sharing with one of them, I discovered that I had been allocated a room right at the top of the house – a little cupboard of a place, but as it had a bed with clean sheets I was not complaining. On my bed was a note scrawled in black ink.

Performance – well, that was nothing to do with me. I could count on some free time in the evenings then. I would have to negotiate more if I was to do my job properly. Not even bothering to find my nightgown, I tumbled on to the mattress in my shift and instantly fell asleep, plunging into a dream where I was rooted to the spot, arms flailing like a windmill, while butterfly dancers floated elegantly across the stage.

A bell rang downstairs. Dragging myself out of bed, I rubbed my eyes. I could smell fresh coffee and bread. For the first time in two days, I felt hungry. Dragging a comb through my hair and
dressing in my pink gown, I followed my nose down to the kitchen. Frank was sitting with Mimi, Belle and Colette at one end of the long table, while Joseph stood at his shoulder waiting to serve his master. I stood unseen in the doorway for a moment observing them. Frank was flirting outrageously – mussing up his hair and giving Mimi his most twinkling smile. I'd never seen Frank flirt before; it was highly entertaining, though I would have recommended he find a more worthy object for his attentions.

‘Good morning, miss,' said Joseph solemnly when he spotted me. He pulled out a chair. ‘Would you care for some coffee?'

‘I'd prefer milk if they have it,' I replied, taking a seat opposite Frank and winking at him. He blushed.

‘A saucer of milk for the cat: I should have guessed!' declared Mimi, none too pleased that I had come in to interrupt her attempt to hook herself a lord. ‘One forgets that she's such a baby.'

Joseph presented me with a beaker of milk as if I were the queen herself.

‘Miss Royal is no baby, mademoiselle,' said Frank loyally. ‘I could tell you tales about her that would soon convince you of her wit and bravery.'

‘No need, sir,' said Mimi primly. ‘She has told the world herself.'

Mimi was beginning to really annoy me but there was nothing to be gained by exchanging insults with her.

‘Shall we call on your parents and Lizzie, Frank?' I asked, ignoring her. ‘I don't have to be at practice until ten.'

‘Good idea, Cat. It's a lovely morning – let's walk.' Frank rose from the table and bowed to the company. ‘Excuse me, ladies.'

Emerging into the summer sunshine, Frank got out his trusty map. Joseph appeared at his elbow and coughed.

‘I took the liberty, my lord, of asking directions from the concierge; rue de Clichy lies a little to the north of us.'

Frank looked downcast to have this opportunity to navigate snatched from him but swallowed his disappointment.

‘Lead on then, Joseph. Miss Royal and I will follow you.'

Paris was already awake. A baker's boy trotted by carrying a stack of long loaves in a basket. A woman swept her front step, humming to herself. Carts rumbled in from the countryside, heading to the markets. The buildings looked quite grand from the waist up, as it were: windows sparkling in the sunshine, pots of flowers blooming on the sills. However, Paris didn't bear too close an inspection lower down: the gutters were full of filth and the smell was ripe to say the least. Many of the people we passed had a bleary-eyed just-got-out-of-bed look. One pretty maid was plaiting her hair at a casement, enjoying the good-humoured compliments thrown her way by the messenger boys. As we walked, we caught the occasional whiff of fresh bread and pipe smoke from the street corner cafés.

‘Well, this isn't so bad, is it?' announced Frank cheerfully, quite in the holiday mood. ‘Certainly beats studying at Boxton.'

I yawned. ‘You could do with brushing up on your French though. You talked to that beggar last
night as if he were the king. No wonder he didn't understand you.'

‘You're right.' Frank steered me round a pile of manure. ‘I was never taught the equivalent of “Oi, you, how the hell do I get to that flash place where they sing and dance?”'

‘Just as well, as I doubt he'd've directed us to anywhere very respectable on the basis of that description.'