The Perfume Collector(81)

‘I’m afraid,’ Grace apologized as she removed her gloves, ‘that I must be late.’

‘Not at all.’ Monsieur Tissot walked over and took her hand. ‘Madame Hiver is very prompt. In fact, she was already here when I arrived.’

‘The door was open downstairs,’ Madame Hiver explained.

Catching Grace’s eye, Monsier Tissot smiled reassuringly. ‘May I present Madame Hiver. Madame Hiver, this is Grace Munroe.’

It struck Grace that he had used her first name; as if somehow he were staking a subtle claim to her autonomy.

Yvonne Hiver took a step forward, offering her hand. Grace could see that closer up, she must be easily in her mid-forties. ‘Madame Munroe, how kind of you to meet me.’ Her voice was a low, rich contralto, and there was a certain bored, drawling out of her vowels; a universal characteristic of the upper classes that Grace recognized even through her heavy accented English. She shook Grace’s hand. ‘This is good of you,’ she added.

‘And a pleasure to meet you, Madame Hiver. I understand you have an interest in purchasing this flat, is that correct?’ Grace was aware of sounding abrupt but found herself unexpectedly nervous, thrown by Madame Hiver’s commanding self-possession.

‘That’s correct.’

Grace slipped her hands into her pockets. ‘And may I ask why?’

‘This apartment has been in my husband’s family for years. Now that it is empty, I would like to restore it to the Hiver portfolio. And as I’m sure you know, property like this, in a good location, is always an excellent investment.’

‘But surely not at twice its estimated value.’

Madame Hiver tilted her head slowly to one side, like an animal sizing up its prey. ‘Well, perhaps we could say it’s for sentimental reasons.’

‘Sentimental?’

Yvonne Hiver took out a gold cigarette case. ‘Do you think that’s odd?’ She removed a cigarette.

Monsieur Tissot leaned in to light it for her.

‘Merci.’ Madame Hiver exhaled, aiming a stream of smoke at the ceiling. ‘Let us not be coy,’ she suggested, looking straight at Grace. ‘You may already be aware that Eva d’Orsey had an arrangement with my late husband – an agreement that spanned many years.’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, then,’ she concluded, with a little shrug. ‘We had something in common.’

Grace stared at her, speechless.

To her surprise, Yvonne Hiver laughed. ‘You are very easily shocked! It’s a charming quality, I assure you. But you see, I bear no ill feelings to Eva d’ Orsey. She played a role, a role someone was bound to play, in my husband’s life and therefore in mine too. And to her credit, she was clever with it. She kept herself to herself, didn’t try to become the second wife. In short, she knew her place.’

‘Her place?’

‘Yes.’ Again, Madame Hiver exhaled. ‘Do you have children, Madame Munroe?’

‘No.’

‘Well, when you do, you will have a nanny. A young woman who will get the children up, dress and feed them, teach them letters and numbers and manners . . . And then when you come home, they cannot wait to see you. You take them to the park and play and they are delightful. The same is true for a mistress. She rolls up her sleeves, tends to the hard labour. She pretends this middle-aged man is fascinating, listens to his woes, massages his ego. She even goes so far as to reassure him physically. But that’s all it is. Flattery. And then he returns home, refreshed, grateful . . .’ She paused. ‘. . . repentant. One can proceed with one’s own interests knowing that one’s spouse is perfectly content.’

Monsieur Tissot looked at Grace.

She looked away, embarrassed. Was this how she was meant to feel about Vanessa? Is this how sophisticated people behaved?

‘I seem to be in the habit of shocking you today,’ Madame Hiver deduced. ‘I apologize. I only wanted to illustrate to you that I appreciated her contribution. She did other things as well. During the war, she entertained all of those men who were so important to keeping our industries open.’

‘You mean the Nazis?’ Grace asked.

Yvonne exhaled slowly, giving her a look. ‘Yes, them. It was necessary, during the occupation. A pragmatic move on our part. But still, one didn’t want to dine with them. Luckily, there was always Eva. How do you think she merited such a grand apartment in the first place? And they liked that, I’m told. Being entertained by the mistress.’ She was staring at Grace, observing her reactions with a cold curiosity. ‘This property has a place in our family history, for good and bad. It’s always been part of the Hiver property holdings. And now I wish to own it again.’