and-all-that attitude? What would Sir Albert think if you just sat around and moped all night?'
Nellie appreciated what Gia was trying to do, but she truly did not give a damn about what Sir Albert might have thought.
'And what am I going to do with this dress?' Gia went on.
'The dress is yours,' Nellie said morosely. She didn't have the will to put on a facade.
'Not if we don't go tonight, it isn't. I'll take it back to La Chanson right now unless you promise me we're going.'
'That's not fair. I can't go. Can't you see that?'
'No, I can't see that at all. What would Grace think? You know she'd want you to go.'
Would she? Nellie thought about that. Knowing Grace, yes, she would want her to go. Grace was always one for keeping up appearances. No matter how bad you felt, you kept up your social obligations. And you never, never made a spectacle of your feelings.
'Do it for Grace,' Gia said.
Nellie managed a little smile. 'Very well, we shall go, although I can't guarantee how stiff my upper lip shall be.'
'You'll do fine.'
Gia gave her one last hug, then released her. Victoria was calling from the kitchen, asking her mother to cut an orange for her. Gia hurried off, leaving Nellie alone in the foyer.
How will I do this? It has always been Grace and Nellie, Nellie and Grace, the two as one, always together. How will I do it without her?
Feeling very old, Nellie started up the stairs to her room.
8.
Nellie had neglected to tell her who the reception was for, and Gia never did find out. She got the impression it was to welcome a new high-ranking official to the Mission.
The affair, while hardly exciting, was not nearly as deadly dull as Gia had expected. The Harley House, where it was being held, was convenient to the UN and a short drive from Sutton Square. Even Nellie seemed to enjoy herself after a while. Only the first fifteen minutes or so were rough on the old woman, for immediately upon her arrival she was surrounded by a score of people asking after Grace and expressing their concern. All were members of that unofficial club of wealthy British citizens living in New York, 'the colony within the Colonies.'
Buoyed by the sympathy and encouragement of her fellow Brits, Nellie perked up, drank some champagne, and actually began to smile. Gia gave herself a pat on the back for refusing to allow her to cancel out tonight. This was her good deed for the day. The
Not such a bad crowd after all, Gia decided after an hour or so. The numerous nationalities, all well dressed, friendly, and polite, offered a smorgasbord of accents. The new dress fit her beautifully and she felt very feminine. She was aware of the admiring glances she drew from more than a few of the guests, and she enjoyed that.
She was nearly finished with her third fluted glass of champagne—she knew nothing about champagne but this was delicious—when Nellie grabbed her by the arm and pulled her toward two men standing off to the side. Gia recognized the shorter of the pair as Edward Burkes, security chief at the Mission. The taller man was dark, dressed all in white. When he turned she noticed with a start that he had no left arm.
'Eddie, how are you?' Nellie said, extending her hand.
'Nellie! How good to see you!' Burkes took her hand and kissed it. He was a burly man of about fifty, with graying hair and a mustache. He looked at Gia, then smiled. 'Miss DiLauro! What an unexpected pleasure! You look wonderful! Allow me to introduce you both to Mr. Kusum Bahkti of the Indian delegation.'
The Indian made a small bow at the waist but did not extend his hand. 'A pleasure to meet you both.'
Gia took an instant dislike to him. His dark, angular face was a mask, his eyes unreadable. He seemed to be hiding something. His gaze passed over her as if she were an ordinary piece of furniture, but came to rest and remain avidly on Nellie.
A waiter came around with a tray of champagne-filled glasses. Burkes gave one each to Nellie and Gia, then offered one to Mr. Bahkti, who shook his head.
'Sorry, Kusum,' Burkes said. 'Forgot you don't drink. Can I get you anything else? A fruit punch?'
Mr. Bahkti shook his head. 'Don't trouble yourself. Perhaps I'll examine the buffet table later and see if you've put out any of those good English chocolates.'
'Are you a chocolate fancier?' Nellie said. 'I adore it.'
'Yes. I developed a taste for it when I was with the London embassy. I brought a small supply with me when I came to this country, but that was six months ago, and it has long since been depleted.'
'Just today I received a box of Black Magic from London. Have you ever had those?'
Gia saw genuine pleasure in Mr. Bahkti's smile. 'Yes. Superior chocolates.'
'You must come by some time and have some.'
The smile widened. 'Perhaps I shall do that.'
Gia began to revise her opinion of Mr. Bahkti. He seemed to have gone from aloof to quite charming. Or was it simply an effect of her fourth glass of champagne? She tingled all over, felt almost giddy.
'I heard about Grace,' Burkes said to Nellie. 'If there's anything I can do...'
'We're doing all we can,' Nellie said with a brave smile, 'but mostly it comes down to waiting.'
'Mr. Bahkti and I were just discussing a mutual acquaintance, Jack Jeffers.'
