Strange Adventure. Sara Craven

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      She sank back into the soft upholstery feeling utterly bereft. Beside her Michelle was fishing in her handbag for the inevitable cigarette and clicking her lighter irritably.

      ‘What an age you made me wait!’ she exclaimed. ‘We will have to abandon any notion of an afternoon plane and fly back tomorrow instead. It will not be such a bad thing anyway. Perhaps we will do some shopping in Paris,’ she added with a disparaging sideways look at Lacey’s neat grey flannel coat and plain dark shoes.

      ‘But I’ve got plenty of clothes,’ Lacey protested.

      ‘For a schoolgirl, yes,’ Michelle gestured dismissively. ‘But now you are a woman, ma chère, and you must learn to dress yourself accordingly. Your hair must be styled too.’

      ‘Oh, no.’ Lacey clutched protectively at a strand of her rain-straight silvery fair hair and Michelle looked grudging.

      ‘Well, perhaps not,’ she conceded. ‘It has a certain—charm, I suppose, comme ça. And you can always wear it up when you wish to look older.’

      ‘Why should I wish to do that?’ Lacey stared at her.

      Michelle gave a negligent shrug and looked at her sideways, her glance oddly speculative. ‘If you do not, ma chère, then you will be the first girl not to wish to be so. Besides, your father will not wish you to appear at parties looking like a child.’

      ‘I’ll be going to parties, then?’ Lacey said questioningly, and her stepmother raised her eyebrows.

      ‘Mais certainement,’ she replied sharply. ‘What else did you expect?’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Lacey wriggled her fingers out of the gloves that every convent-trained girl wore as a matter of course when she went out. She had never cared for the feel of gloves on her hands even in the coldest weather, and it occurred to her that she no longer had to trouble about this little bit of discipline. She stole a glance at her stepmother, who was smoking rather jerkily and staring out of the window at the rather drab landscape with a slight frown. ‘Michelle, is everything—all right? At home—with Father, I mean?’

      ‘Naturally.’ Michelle gave her a long look. ‘Why should it not be?’

      ‘Oh, nothing.’ It was Lacey’s turn to shrug. ‘One—just hears things and I wondered …’

      ‘You have heard what?’ Her stepmother’s tone sharpened.

      ‘Who has been talking to you? What has been said?’

      ‘Well, nothing really,’ Lacey hastened to assure her, feeling oddly perturbed. ‘But Reverend Mother said something odd—about me being needed, and Vanessa said there had been hints in the papers about the bank—that something might be wrong.’ She paused, but Michelle made no immediate reply. Her frown, however, had deepened. ‘If there is something wrong, I wish you’d tell me. You’ve just said I’m not a child any longer, so please don’t treat me like one if there’s something I should know.’

      There was silence for a moment, then Michelle gave a harsh little laugh and muttered, ‘Touchée,’ as she stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray beside her. Then she faced the girl sitting tensely beside her.

      ‘To begin with,’ she said, ‘your father has not been well. He saw a specialist last week and has been told he has a bad heart and must take care. I did not intend to tell you until we reached England, but you wished me to be honest, and I do not agree with your father that you must any longer be protected and sheltered from life. There are realities that very soon you must face, and this is one of them.’

      Lacey sat stunned. She moistened her lips. ‘Is—Father isn’t going to die?’ It was a heartrending little cry.

      Michelle moved irritably. ‘Mon dieu, non. At least, we must all hope—and pray too, as the good Sisters have promised to do at the convent, that he will live for many years. But he must avoid shocks and any sort of worry, so this—trouble at the bank could not have happened at a worse time for him.’

      ‘What sort of trouble?’

      ‘Lack of foreign investment—some unwise investments of his own. The world of finance is full of these ups and down and always your father has been able to weather any storms that came. People had confidence in him—in his name. But now it is whispered that he is a sick man, confidence is failing. There have been one or two resignations from the board, allegedly for other reasons, it is true, but it causes talk, and then the rumours appear in the newspapers.’ She lit another cigarette. ‘So—you will come home, and we will give a dance for you and on the surface all will be well. This is the façade that we must present to the world, and you must help.’

      Lacey lifted haunted eyes to meet her stepmother’s. ‘What’s going to happen, Michelle?’

      Michelle blew a reflective smoke ring and looked at the girl through narrowed eyes. ‘We shall—overcome this crisis, or we shall be ruined,’ she said almost idly. ‘It is as simple as that, ma chère.’

      ‘I must get a job,’ Lacey said half to herself. ‘I—I don’t want a dance or any of that nonsense. I want to earn money—and help Father …’

      She bit back a cry as Michelle’s fingers gripped her slender arms.

      ‘And what money could you earn? A drop in the ocean compared to what! is needed,’ Michelle said contemptuously. ‘Be content, Lacey, and do as you are asked. Do not further complicate matters, I beg you.’

      Lacey flushed painfully. ‘I’ll do anything, of course,’ she managed.

      ‘Will you?’ That reflective note had returned to Michelle’s voice and it puzzled Lacey. ‘Perhaps I will remind you of that—one day, ma chère.’

      The remainder of the journey into Paris was accomplished in silence. Lacey was glad to be left in peace with her churning thoughts. In the space of a few hours her entire world had been turned upside down, she thought confusedly. Even the security of her background which she had always taken for granted was no longer certain. Was it conceivable that her father could be ruined? He had always seemed so confident of his ability to keep ahead of the game even in difficult times that it did not seem possible that he could now be facing disaster. But other banks had collapsed, she knew. It was a chilling thought. Michelle had spoken calmly, but Lacey found herself wondering what private thoughts her stepmother might be harbouring. She had relished being the wife of a wealthy and successful man. How would she react to being married to a failure? Lacey shook herself mentally. Poor Father! She was condemning him unheard, treating him as if ruin was staring them in the face already.

      But it was the news about his bad heart that had really disturbed her. He had always been so proud of his health and energy, as if it were some private lodestar. Now he was sick and his business too was ailing. It was like some ill omen.

      When they arrived at the hotel, Lacey allowed herself to be shepherded up to the palatial suite reserved for them while Michelle went to the reception desk to arrange for an extension of the reservation. They lunched together in the suite on clear soup, followed by grilled trout, but Lacey was too disturbed and upset to eat very much. She was not keen either on the suggested shopping expedition, but Michelle was adamant that she should accompany her, so she gave in with a little sigh.

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