The Bright and the Lost

Seven (1)

With slow gestures, Izzy took her hands in hers and examined them. Then she met Vita's gaze, her expression concerned.

"Vita, what on earth happened to you? You have to tell me."

Frustration built up in Vita's chest. There was Holden's ghost appearing at the polo grounds, and now this? How was her life supposed to return to normal in these conditions?

"I don't know!" she said. "Honestly, I don't. If I did, don't you think I'd be trying to fix this?"

Her reply came out angry, and Izzy's mouth fell, hurt in her eyes.

"Why won't you confide in me?" she asked, her voice small.

"Because I don't know what to tell you!?"

Part of her wanted to tell Izzy everything she thought she had seen at the warehouse. But she had sworn to put all this behind her, and talking about it would mean it would never go away. There'd be more questions, more doctor's appointments, more worried glances from everyone around her, and she couldn't – she wouldn't – have that.

"I'm going to wash off," she said.

She walked out of the music room, and Izzy called after her: "Wait! Vita, we have to talk about this!"

Vita slammed the door before Izzy could follow her.

***

The Vacani's School of Dancing was in Brompton Road, Knightsbridge.

Her lessons in the art of curtseying were the highlight of Izzy's day. They were the proof that she belonged with the most sought-after debutantes, who would soon be presented at Court. Only a handful of High Society girls were taught by Madame Vacani herself, and Izzy's chest inflated at the mere thought that she was one of them.

Today wasn't going well, though. Her mind kept wandering to Vita's stained hand and state of denial, and so far Izzy had stepped on her own train, dropped her bouquet on the floor and failed to answer a question on the diagram of the Drawing Room at Buckingham Palace. Madame Vacani wasn't impressed, and she shook her head while pouting her red painted lips.

Although Izzy had managed a flawless deep curtsey, she was asked to step aside while a few selected girls practised the waltz. She sighed as she sat on a gilded chair next to her friends. Tallulah gave her a sympathetic smile while Vita surveyed the dancing girls, moving her fan in front of her face. The celluloid resembled amber tortoiseshell. It was the kind of accessory Izzy would never think of buying, but wanted once she saw it in Vita's hands.

"One, two, follow the music, one, two..." Madame Vacani said to the dancers, her diamond necklace bounding on her chest.

"I can't believe Margaret bobbed her hair," Tallulah said.

Izzy nodded. The blond girl waltzed effortlessly around the room, her short, curly hair shining in the sunlight.

"She's so pretty," Tallulah added, her tone full of admiration.

"She's too tall," Izzy replied.

Her reply came out nastier than she had planned, and she hated to think the others might think her jealous. She wasn't envious of Margaret, of all people. The notion was just ridiculous.

In an absent-minded gesture, she touched her own long hair, pinned at the nape of her neck. She would cut it soon, she decided. Better have long hair for the Court presentation anyway. Their Majesties likely didn't approve of this new trend.

"She's still a very good dancer," Tallulah said.

"She's all right," Vita replied.

Izzy glanced at her. She leaned back in her chair with a nonchalant pose, as if she didn't have a care in the world. Her hands and forearms were covered by her long white gloves, and Izzy wondered if she had managed to wash off the black ink on her skin as she had claimed.

Izzy thought she needed to see a doctor, but when she had suggested it, Vita was adamant, saying she was perfectly healthy. Izzy had heard about those soldiers who came back from the war with their minds broken, and who would blackout and do the strangest things. Vita painting her hands with ink and having no recollection of it sounded a lot like these veterans' behaviour.

"Ladies, you're next," Madame Vacani said, prompting Izzy out of her reverie.

Izzy stood up, determined to focus and to amaze her with her ballroom dancing skills. Tallulah followed her, but Vita remained in her seat.

"I'm afraid I'm not feeling too well today, Madame," she said to the dance teacher.

As Izzy and Tallulah took their position on the dance floor, Madame Vacani sat down next to Vita with a worried frown.

"What is it, my dear?"

Izzy strained her ear to listen to their conversation over the noise of the debs' own discussions.

"I suppose it's some sort of heat exhaustion," Vita said. "It's very warm in here. I'll just wait for Izzy to be done and I'll go and have a drink."

"Nonsense." Madame Vacani patted Vita's leg. "You go and fetch a glass of water downstairs now."

Vita stood up. "I will, then, thank you Madame."

She folded her fan, as Madame Vacani also left her chair.

"And dear," the old lady added, her fingers on Vita's arm, "you're not in any sort of trouble, are you?"

Vita stopped in her track, uncertainty all over her face.

"It's just that after those two gentlemen's visit," Madame Vacani went on, "I wanted to make sure everything was all right."

"Which gentlemen?" Vita asked, her whole body tense.

"Well," Madame Vacani explained, "one older man, well-dressed, with glasses. The other was younger, taller as well. Both very polite. They asked if you were a student at the school, and of course I said I couldn't divulge such information. When I asked for their names, they left quickly, but I wondered what they wanted with you, my dear. Do you know them at all?"

Vita's eyes were wide, and she had paled while the dance teacher spoke. She forced a smile to her lips before replying.

"I couldn't say, really. Maybe they're friends of my fiancé's. I'll have to ask him." She disentangled herself from Madame Vacani's grasp and added, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go and ask for a glass of water."

She left the room and the lesson resumed, but Izzy's concentration had definitely vanished. She stepped on her partner's toes and got the steps wrong several times before Madame Vacani called an end to the day's lesson.

When Izzy rushed out of the school ahead of all the other girls, she found Vita smoking in the car with Mr. Lawrence at the wheel. Izzy dropped onto the back seat, breathless.

"What was that about?" she asked. "Who were these men?"

Whatever shock Vita had experienced when Madame Vacani had relayed the news to her, she had now recovered. Her face was smooth and her tone calm when she replied.

"The men who kidnapped me."

Izzy gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth.

"What? Why? What do they want?"

Vita shrugged and blew out a stream of smoke. "How would I know? To tie loose ends, maybe. Anyway, they're not here now."

Her coolness only half-reassured Izzy.

"You're right," she said, trying to convince herself. "I'm sure Archie will know what to do."

Vita didn't reply, instead glancing at Mr. Lawrence to let him know they were ready to leave. He turned the key in the ignition and put his foot down on the accelerator. The car joined the traffic of the busy thoroughfare.

***

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