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Back The Shoe Queen
Chapters (67)
  1. Cover
  2. “And may I say, those shoes are adorable.”
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. ( I )
  7. ( one )
  8. ( two )
  9. ( three )
  10. ( four )
  11. ( five )
  12. ( six )
  13. ( seven )
  14. ( eight )
  15. ( nine )
  16. ( ten )
  17. ( II )
  18. ( eleven )
  19. ( twelve )
  20. ( thirteen )
  21. ( fourteen )
  22. ( fifteen )
  23. ( III )
  24. ( sixteen )
  25. ( seventeen )
  26. ( eighteen )
  27. ( nineteen )
  28. ( IV )
  29. ( twenty )
  30. ( twenty-one )
  31. ( twenty-two )
  32. ( twenty-three )
  33. ( twenty-four )
  34. ( V )
  35. ( twenty-five )
  36. ( twenty-six )
  37. ( twenty-seven )
  38. ( twenty-eight )
  39. ( twenty-nine )
  40. VI
  41. ( thirty )
  42. ( thirty-one )
  43. ( thirty-two )
  44. ( thirty-three )
  45. ( thirty-four )
  46. ( VII )
  47. ( thirty-five )
  48. ( thirty-six )
  49. ( thirty-seven )
  50. ( thirty-eight )
  51. ( thirty-nine )
  52. ( forty )
  53. ( forty-one )
  54. ( forty-two )
  55. ( VIII )
  56. ( forty-three )
  57. ( forty-four )
  58. ( forty-five )
  59. ( forty-six )
  60. ( forty-seven )
  61. ( forty-eight )
  62. ( forty-nine )
  63. ( fifty )
  64. ( fifty-one )
  65. Acknowledgments
  66. Acknowledgments
  67. Questions for Discussion

A poke at her back. Someone’s hot breath, very close by. She jumped, thinking for one ridiculous moment that it was Guy Monteray pointing his gun at her, but when she whipped around she discovered that of course it was Paolo Zachari, standing with his arms folded and an amused expression on his face.

“Have you taken to streetwalking?”

“I came here to talk to you, Mr. Zachari.”

“The shop is closed, madame.”

“But you came outside all the same.”

“I was trying to work,” he said. “But there was a terrible clattering noise at the window and a pair of hideous reptiles kept going back and forth outside. Spoils the concentration, you understand.”

She nodded sympathetically. “Would that café with the green walls still be open? I’d like to have a drink with you.”

He gave a half smile, and she thought she could just about glimpse the freckle at the base of his neck, even through the darkness. “Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Shelby King?”

She made a face. “I’ve been thinking about our last conversation. I want to tell you the real reason why shoes are important to me.”

( nine )

IT WAS THE SPRING of 1913. The Honourable Genevieve Samuel, aged nine, was spending the day in London with her mother. They were currently in Harrods, where Mummy was having the final fitting of an outfit for her forthcoming birthday party.

“What do you think, darling?” Lady Ticksted emerged from behind the curtain and stood before the mirror in a hooped dress of aquamarine and gold chiffon with iridescent sequins.

“It’s beautiful.”

“And what about these?” She lifted the dress to reveal delicate satin dancing slippers in the same aquamarine.

“Gorgeous!”

“Walk around for me,” said the stern-faced assistant. But Genevieve’s mother went one better and began to dance a waltz around the changing room, bobbing and twirling, the sequined chiffon twinkling and shimmering so that Genevieve thought of water in motion. Every so often she glimpsed the divine satin slippers, but mostly they were hidden by the dress.

“It’s a shame Daddy’s such a dreadful dancer,” said Genevieve, later, as they wandered through the children’s department.

“Genevieve!”

“Sorry. I just—”

But Lady Ticksted had already moved on. “Now, darling,” she said. “You’ve been so patient this morning that I think you deserve a little something for yourself. How about these?”

She had picked up a pair of Mary Jane shoes from a nearby display table. They were black patent leather and as shiny as mirrors.

“I love them!”