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Back One Enchanted Evening Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. The Grand Masquerade Ball
  5. Five Months Earlier . . .
  6. Chapter One
  7. Chapter Two
  8. Chapter Three
  9. September 1936
  10. Chapter Four
  11. Chapter Five
  12. Chapter Six
  13. Chapter Seven
  14. Chapter Eight
  15. Chapter Nine
  16. Chapter Ten
  17. Chapter Eleven
  18. Chapter Twelve
  19. Chapter Thirteen
  20. Chapter Fourteen
  21. Chapter Fifteen
  22. Chapter Sixteen
  23. Chapter Seventeen
  24. Chapter Eighteen
  25. October 1936
  26. Chapter Nineteen
  27. Chapter Twenty
  28. Chapter Twenty-one
  29. November 1936
  30. Chapter Twenty-two
  31. December 1936
  32. Chapter Twenty-three
  33. Chapter Twenty-four
  34. Chapter Twenty-five
  35. Chapter Twenty-six
  36. Chapter Twenty-seven
  37. Chapter Twenty-eight
  38. Chapter Twenty-nine
  39. Chapter Thirty
  40. Chapter Thirty-one
  41. Chapter Thirty-two
  42. Chapter Thirty-three
  43. Chapter Thirty-four
  44. Chapter Thirty-five
  45. Epilogue
  46. A New Year
  47. Extract from Anton Du Beke’s next novel’
  48. Acknowledgements
  49. About the Author
  50. Letter from Author

Raymond stepped out. From around the corner he could hear the footsteps of yet more guests as they were all drawn down towards the ballroom. A clock on the wall showed the hour inching towards 7 p.m. The evening’s performances were about to begin.

Nancy reached out, took him by the arm once more.

‘Please, Raymond. You have to listen. What Vivienne did is abominable. What Hélène’s going through isn’t right. But she’ll get to Brixton Hill, she’ll find her daughter, she’ll know it was all a lie – and her life, their lives, will go on. But Vivienne . . . Vivienne didn’t do it out of evil. She did it out of desperation. You heard what Billy said – she wants to dance. She wants to show her mother, her stepfather, that she matters. It’s why she asked you to teach her and why she took it so badly that you would not. It’s why she fell in with Nathaniel White. Maybe she needs it. Maybe she needs something to cling on to, something to steady her – anything so she can face the world. Vivienne isn’t the enemy here, Raymond. All of the damage she’s been doing, to herself, to the hotel – why, even to me – she’s been crying out for help all this time. And who was answering? Only Mr Simenon and that poison of his.’ She stopped. Raymond had already surged ahead, bound for Vivienne’s room. ‘Raymond. Ray. You have to listen. It wasn’t Vivienne who did this, not really. It was the poison . . .’

Chapter Thirty-four

Chapter Thirty-four

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THE DOOR TO VIVIENNE EDGERTON’S suite burst open, the door jamb splintering beneath the force of Raymond de Guise’s boot. Raymond was the first to crash through. Nancy followed in his wake.

Vivienne’s suite was empty, the wardrobe hanging open. Raymond looked inside it, to find a succession of ball gowns pushed aside and a single hanger empty in the wardrobe’s centre. All around him was that familiar scent of Chanel.

‘Where is she?’ Raymond uttered. Then realisation hit him square between the eyes. ‘The ballroom.’

*

The doors of the Grand Ballroom stood wide open. Vivienne Edgerton, a glittering tiara in her hair and a simple black mask in her hand, stared down the sloping hall and into the ballroom itself. Men and women gathered in small groups, their gowns ostentatious, their suits adorned with strange flourishes and swirls, alive with colour. Guests were still arriving, brushing past Vivienne as, masks of animals and princesses and unreal spirits in hand, they made their way to the celebration. She was certain she caught sight of her mother, face hidden behind black satin, and stepfather – one of the few wearing only a plain evening suit – in the turning crowd, but then they were gone.

She was going to do this.