evening in the American Bar for cocktails. Nine o’clock, if I’m not mistaken. There will be more information in your room.”
He handed Walter a small envelope containing their passkeys, then repeated the process for Ben and Lucy. Before Miriam could step forward to take her turn, Jane leaned over the counter and whispered to Gosebourne, “Put her next to an elevator.”
Once all the rooms were assigned, it was off to the elevators and up to their rooms. Gosebourne, Jane was pleased to see, had indeed placed Miriam in a room right next to the elevator bank. Miriam frowned as she opened her door, and Jane continued down the corridor to her own room with a feeling of satisfaction.
Jane and Walter’s room was on one side of the hallway, and Lucy and Ben’s was on the other. It was only when Jane was in the room that something occurred to her.
“Did you book a room with one bed or two for Ben and Lucy?” she asked Walter.
“One,” Walter said as he went to the window and pulled back the drapes, revealing a spectacular view of the River Thames. “Why?”
“Well, with him being a rabbi, I’m not sure that they’re … you know.”
“Sleeping together?” said Walter.
Jane nodded. “I know that sounds old-fashioned of me,” she said.
Walter laughed. “It does,” he said. “But don’t worry. I’m sure if it’s not okay they’ll say something.” He came over and put his arms around Jane, pulling her close. “Don’t you girls talk about these things?”
Jane kissed him. “Of course not. We only talk about raising babies and how to cook for our menfolk.”
“And we men only talk about hunting and making fire,” Walter said.
Jane laughed. “Speaking of talking, I understand you told Ben where we’re getting married.”
“I suppose I did,” said Walter. “Is that all right?”
“It’s fine,” Jane told him. “But Lucy is furious because I won’t tell her.” She hesitated before asking, “Did you tell your mother?”
“I was going to,” Walter said. “But then she started complaining about the airline and the snow and all the English accents and I decided not to. Let her be surprised.”
“Oh, she’ll be surprised all right,” said Jane. “I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”
Walter picked up a folder that was sitting on the room’s desk. “This is the packet from the IAHP,” he said. He sat down on the bed and opened it while Jane commenced unpacking.
“Here’s the welcome letter, itinerary, handy hints for avoiding pickpockets … Ah, here we are. The guest list.” His eyes scanned the page. “Interesting,” he remarked.
“What is?” asked Jane as she hung one of Walter’s shirts in the closet.
“Well, I’ve heard of some of these people,” Walter answered. “But I’ve only met one of them.” He looked at the clock on the nightstand. “We’re about to, though,” he said. “It’s almost nine now.”
“I’d forgotten about the time difference,” said Jane. “What time is it back home?”
Walter glanced at his watch. “A quarter to four,” he told her.
“Your mother will be clamoring for dinner,” Jane said.
“Maybe she can go with Lucy and Ben and get something,” said Walter. “Do you want to go with them? I’m probably going to be tied up with these people for a while.”
“I’ll come,” said Jane. “I want to see the motley crew we’ll be sharing the road with for the next two weeks.”
“You mean you’d rather do anything else than have dinner with my mother,” Walter said, grinning.
“And there’s that,” said Jane. “Now come on. We don’t want to be late for our first get-together.”
They knocked on Ben and Lucy’s door. When Ben answered, Jane peeked around him to see what the bed situation was. As Walter had told her, there was only one. Lucy was stretched out on it, looking at a guidebook.
“Jane and I have to go to this cocktail hour,” Walter explained. “I’m wondering if you would mind taking my mother with you to—”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Walter.”
Jane jumped at the unexpected sound of Miriam’s voice. When she turned she saw Walter’s mother approaching, Lilith in her arms. They were wearing matching red sweaters. Lilith, to her credit, did not look particularly pleased.
“Oh, hi, Mom,” Walter said. “Nobody said you needed a babysitter. I just thought you would be more comfortable going to dinner with Lucy and Ben than you would be hanging around with Jane and me and a bunch of people into old houses.”
“Well, you’re right about that,” said Miriam. She smiled at Ben. “I’m sure the rabbi will be excellent company.”
Ben glanced at Lilith. “I don’t know if they allow dogs in restaurants here,” he said.
“Nonsense,” Miriam replied. “They adore dogs here. You can take them anywhere.”
“You’re thinking of Paris,” Jane remarked before she could think to stop herself.
Miriam pointedly ignored her. “Anyway, I’ll just tell them she’s a helping dog. She senses when I’m about to have a seizure.”
“But you don’t have seizures,” Walter objected.
Miriam’s face suddenly twisted in a rictus of pain. She began to shake, and her tongue protruded from her mouth as a series of groans poured forth.
“Mother!” Walter cried.
Miriam’s facial expression returned to normal. “See?” she said. “Seizures.”
“Good God, Mother,” Walter said. “Don’t go doing that in a restaurant, or anywhere for that matter.”
“If my seizure dog is with me, I won’t,” Miriam said. She took Ben’s arm. “Now, shall we go find something to eat? I’m famished.”
Chapter 6
Monday: London
The man sitting at the piano was playing “A Foggy Day” as Jane and Walter entered the American Bar. The air was filled with the sound of laughter and murmured conversations and ice tinkling in highballs. The light was flattering and the atmosphere was gay. It was impossible not to feel glamorous in such surroundings.
Which of course meant that Jane did not. For one thing, her shoes pinched. They were new, purchased just days earlier in a frenzy of last-minute shopping. Seeing them on display in the store, Jane had imagined herself wearing them while sharing scintillating conversation with her fellow travelers. This thrilling possibility had blinded her to the reality of the shoes, which was that the heels were entirely too high. They caused her to tip forward, much like the famed Pisa tower, as a result of which she felt as if she were always just about to topple over. But they looked wonderful, and so she’d insisted on wearing them, even though it meant she had to keep a firm hold on Walter’s arm or risk a fall.
She was hoping that perhaps she and Walter could take up a position somewhere central, so that the others could circle them like bees around a flower. And so it was with great relief that she soon found herself seated at one of the tables scattered throughout the room, waiting as Walter ordered a gin and tonic for her and a Manhattan for himself. She used the time to look about her and try to put faces to some of the names Walter had rattled off when reading her the roster of participants.
“Have you identified any of them yet?” Walter asked, handing Jane her drink and taking a seat.
“I think so,” said Jane. “That one over there. I think she must be Genevieve Prideaux.”
She indicated a tall, thin woman of about thirty-five. Her hair was pulled into a tidy knot at the back of her head, and she was wearing a chic dark suit with a pale green silk blouse. Jane noted with some jealousy that Genevieve’s heels were higher than her own and that the woman had no trouble whatsoever walking in them.
“I think you’re right,” Walter agreed. “I remember seeing her picture in one of the trade magazines.”
“I’m not surprised you’d remember
