The Lost Sapphire (22 page)

Read The Lost Sapphire Online

Authors: Belinda Murrell

‘If you develop the photographs, you'll be able to identify the real arsonists,' Violet insisted. ‘Nikolai Khakovsky is innocent.'

The senior sergeant continued to ask the same questions over and over, in slightly different ways. Or he'd deliberately misunderstand her, as if trying to catch her out. Then he pulled Frank out of bed and asked him a lot of questions about the riot. The boy looked frightened but answered the questions truthfully, once Violet had nodded her head to show him he should.

It was much later when Frank was finally allowed to go back to bed. The policemen said good night and took the film away to have it developed at the police laboratory.

Mr Hamilton sat at his desk, slumped back in his chair, hand over his eyes, looking defeated.

‘Dad, I'm sorry I went into the slums by myself when you told me not to,' Violet said. ‘I know now how reckless that was.'

Mr Hamilton looked up at her. ‘Violet, I don't know why you are so rebellious. So determined to flout authority. Why can't you just behave decorously, like a well-bred young lady? I'm trying to do my best to raise you, but it's
so hard to know what to do when … when you don't have a mother.'

Violet came around next to her father and hugged him around the shoulders. ‘Dad, I don't mean to upset you. I'm only trying to do what I think is right.'

‘I am determined to ensure that you girls are securely settled,' said Mr Hamilton. ‘All I want is to see you both married into respectable families, to take your rightful place among Melbourne society, with no hint of scandal. Otherwise, everything I've striven for will be in vain.'

‘The world's changing, Dad,' said Violet. ‘The old rules don't matter so much to us anymore.'

Mr Hamilton shook his head despondently. ‘I refuse to accept that, Violet. The old rules still matter to me. It's the duty of people like us to uphold the old rules – or society will fall utterly apart.'

25
The Russian Ball

Two days later, Violet was in the summerhouse, making the final touches to her painting of the twelve princesses dancing at the secret ball, when she saw a police car pull up at the front gate. A moment later the gate swung open and Nikolai limped up the driveway.

Violet dropped her paintbrush and flew up the driveway to meet him, her heart thumping. Romeo galloped close behind and gambolled around Nikolai, barking with excitement.

Nikolai was looking pale and haggard, as though he hadn't slept for days. He had a purple bruise on his cheek and multiple grazes. His clothes were torn and grubby. Violet had to resist the urge to hug him.

‘Are you all right?' Violet asked, gazing at him anxiously. ‘You're hurt.'

Nikolai grinned as he patted Romeo on the head. ‘Not badly, it's nothing. What about you?'

Violet felt a rush of relief and happiness. She had been so worried about him – she hadn't been able to think of anything else since he'd been arrested. ‘Thank goodness. Yes, I'm fine too, but poor Frank was injured. He was trampled on by the mob and broke a few ribs, but he seems to be on the mend now. I'm trying to convince him to go back to school.'

‘I hope he listens to you.'

Violet looked around. They were standing near the marble fountain. A blue-and-brown fairy wren and his mate were splashing in one of its pools. The morning sun shone down, bathing the gardens in golden light. It felt so idyllic that the events of the last few days seemed like an impossible nightmare.

Images of the riot came back to Violet – Frank being trampled, Nikolai disappearing into the flailing mob, the factory burning out of control. She felt desperately guilty about putting him in danger.

‘I'm so sorry, Nikolai,' Violet began. She put out her hand and touched his arm. ‘I should never have gone near Ramsay's Tannery that day. You wouldn't have been arrested or hurt by the mob if you hadn't come to help me. I've been so worried about you.'

Nikolai raised his eyebrows. ‘I'm glad someone has been worried. Here I was, thinking that no-one would even notice that a lowly Russian chauffeur was missing.'

Violet laughed. ‘All of us have been feeling anxious. Sally says that even Monsieur Dufour has been asking after you!'

Nikolai suddenly looked vulnerable. ‘I wasn't sure if your father would want me to come back … after being arrested.'

‘Your job here is safe for as long as you want it,' Violet said. ‘The police rang Dad to tell him you were innocent, and I told Dad I'd never speak to him again if he didn't let you come back.'

Nikolai smiled at her fierce expression. ‘Then I am doubly grateful. Constable Lawson told me that you defended me, and that it was your photographs that identified the men who started the fire. Apparently they had been trying to find evidence against one of them for some time.'

‘I'm so pleased,' Violet replied. ‘Do you think you'll feel well enough to come along to our Russian Ball on Thursday? It would be such a shame if you missed it after all the help you've given us.' Suddenly Violet felt like all her excitement about the ball would evaporate completely if Nikolai didn't go.

‘I wouldn't miss it for the world,' said Nikolai with a grin. ‘I'm looking forward to dancing a
mazurka
or two.'

Violet was so exhilarated that she felt like dancing right there in the carriageway. ‘Perfect – but you must be exhausted. We should go in.'

They walked together up the drive, then Nikolai veered left to go to the service entrance and Violet continued straight towards the front door.

The next three days were a flurry of organisation. Nikolai's sisters were making costumes late into the night. Audrey, Imogen and Violet were finishing the decorations. The ball had been fully subscribed, and more than 600 people were
expected to attend, raising nearly two hundred pounds for the Russian Relief Fund.

Everyone who Violet had met at the Russian Club had agreed to attend, and Katya had helped Violet plan a list of entertainment. Two days before the ball, Imogen's dress was delivered, but Violet's was not yet finished. She worried that Katya had set them an almost impossible task to have it finished in time.

At last the day of the ball arrived. The girls spent all day with the committee at Town Hall, directing florists and delivery men. Finally, everything was done.

In the late afternoon, Sally came into the drawing room where Violet and Imogen were sitting, reading over their checklist. Sally was carrying a large oval box tied with turquoise ribbon.

‘A delivery has just arrived for you, miss,' Sally explained, her face alive with curiosity.

The box was printed with an intricate design of peacocks, ferns and flowers in turquoise, cobalt blue, emerald green and lavender. Printed on a plaque on the side was a curlicue script that read:
Maison de Mademoiselle Perrot.

‘They used my peacock design for the hatbox,' Violet said with delight.

‘Of course they did, Violet,' replied Imogen. ‘It's gorgeous.'

Violet felt a thrill of pride to see her drawing printed as professional packaging. ‘It must be my new dress,' she said, unknotting the satin ribbon. ‘It's finally arrived. I was certain it wouldn't come in time.'

Inside the box, wrapped in tissue paper, was the seafoam-green ball gown with its intricate peacock
detailing. Violet pulled it out and held it up to look at it. ‘Oh, Imogen, isn't it divine?'

‘Yes, but there's more,' said Imogen, looking inside the box.

Violet drew out the other items one by one – a cream velvet clutch bag, long cream satin gloves and a sumptuous cream velvet evening wrap.

‘Goodness,' Violet cried. ‘They've made all the accessories to go with it.'

Imogen stroked the thick silk velvet wrap. ‘It's utterly gorgeous.'

‘There's a note,' Violet said, pulling out the folded notepaper.

Dear Miss Hamilton,

Thank you for everything you have done for our family. You have made us feel truly welcome in a strange new land. May you feel like a Russian princess tonight.

Yours truly,
Katya Khakovska

Sally gathered up the items in the hatbox. ‘I'll take the clothing upstairs and hang it all up, miss, so it's ready for you when you get dressed.'

‘Lovely, Sally,' Violet said. ‘I'm coming up now to bathe. It's time to get ready.'

After Violet had towelled off, dressed in her underwear and done her make-up, she sat in front of the mirror, wrapped in her colourful silk kimono. Sally stood behind her, arranging her copper hair into sleek finger waves with the curling iron.

‘How is your mother?' Violet asked.

‘We all went to see Ma in hospital on the weekend. She's allowed visitors now, an' looks so much better, though the doctor says she must stay in bed for weeks.'

‘I'm so glad.' Violet dabbed on some perfume. ‘I was wondering, Sally, do you like your job here?'

‘Yes, miss, of course,' Sally replied, looking flustered. ‘Why do you ask? Have I done somethin' wrong?'

‘No, you're not in trouble,' Violet assured her. ‘I just wondered if this is what you truly want to do?'

Sally put down the curling iron and thought for a moment. ‘This is a good job for a girl like me, from Richmond. I get paid so I can help my family, an' I get food an' board. One day I'll work my way up to head housemaid, an' then a proper lady's maid. One day I might even be a housekeeper like Mrs Darling, or become a cook, or perhaps find a sweetheart and get married.'

‘Was there ever anything else you thought you'd like to do?' asked Violet. ‘It's hard work being a housemaid.'

Sally pushed a diamante slide into Violet's hair to help the finger waves hold.

‘It's hard work being anythin' when you've left school at twelve,' Sally replied. ‘When I was fourteen an' started workin' here, it was the first time I'd had a full belly, the first time I'd slept in a bed by myself, and the first time I'd had boots an' clothes that weren't patched an' hand-me-down. It seemed like fair luxury to me.'

Sally went to the wardrobe and took out the seafoam-green peacock gown. Violet stood up so Sally could drop the gown over her head and fasten the multitude of tiny buttons running up the back.

‘I see what you mean,' Violet continued. ‘Have you ever wished that you'd stayed on at school?'

Sally shrugged. ‘I couldn't say, miss. There wasn't any choice – I had to leave school to help Ma with the cleanin' and washin'. But Nikolai has lent me some books to read, and he's helped me with my learnin'. He said I'm quick with the lessons, although mostly I'm too tired to do much at the end of the day.'

Violet felt uncomfortable when she thought of Nikolai teaching Sally. Surely she wasn't jealous that Nikolai was kind enough to help Sally with her lessons. ‘I have lots of books you could borrow if you want to read them.'

Sally put the cream satin dancing shoes down for Violet to slip her feet into and buckled up the straps.

‘That's kind, miss,' Sally replied. ‘Nikolai's very clever. He says one day, when he's saved enough money, he's going to university to study law.'

‘Nikolai would be capable of anything he turned his mind to,' Violet replied warmly.
So that explains the textbooks
.

Violet pulled on her long satin gloves and Sally did up the tiny buttons. Then Sally passed her the cream velvet wrap and bag. She was ready.

Violet descended the stairs, the silk skirt billowing around her ankles in contrast to the stiffly beaded straight bodice. She walked past the locked tower door and imagined her mother watching from the doorway with loving approval.

A glimpse in the gilt-framed hall mirror confirmed that she looked as elegant as she felt.

Mr Hamilton was in the drawing room, dressed to go to his club. Imogen was already down, looking bewitching
in her midnight-blue ball gown, complete with the double strand of pearls and her engagement ring worn over her long black evening gloves.

‘Are you sure you won't come with us, Daddy?' Imogen asked.

‘Thank you, girls, but my ball days are over,' Mr Hamilton replied. ‘I'm sure it will be a brilliant success.'

Nikolai drove them to the Hawthorn Town Hall, with its soaring sandstone clock tower. He would drop Mr Hamilton to his club in Collins Street before returning. The girls jumped from the car and hurried up the steps to the ornamented portico. The inside foyer had been transformed into a garden with potted palm trees, foliage twisted around pillars and urns filled with masses of hot-pink and orange roses.

Violet's Russian fairytale paintings, inspired by Nikolai's book, had been hung on the walls. One showed twelve princesses dancing at the secret ball until their shoes fell apart. Another showed the witch Baba Yaga being out witted by Vasilisa the Beautiful. She had also painted Father Frost in a snowy forest, a shaggy grey wolf and the flaming Firebird soaring through the sky.

The girls passed through into the vast green-and-cream ballroom, admiring its polished parquet floor, elaborate chandeliers and arched mirrors. Trailing green foliage was draped from the galleries and stage. Banks of potted palms lined the corners, along with urns over flowing with creamy roses. Violet felt a thrill of excitement to see how her concepts and sketches had turned into a beautiful reality. Her first real ball would be a night to remember forever.

Audrey, Dodo and Edie were directing some workmen who were putting the finishing touches to the floral arrangements. Audrey had booked one of the best jazz orchestras in Melbourne, and they were setting up on stage.

‘There you are,
cheries
,' called Audrey. ‘You both look adorable.'

‘Thank you,' Violet replied. ‘So do you.'

‘Violet, I do love your dress,' said Edie. ‘Wherever did you get it?'

Violet twirled, making the skirt billow. ‘From a new designer called Maison de Mademoiselle Perrot,' she said airily. ‘They made Imogen's dress too. It was so hard to choose – they have such gorgeous gowns.'

Edie and Dodo took a closer look at Imogen's dress.

‘I must look them up. Could you give me the address tomorrow?' Edie asked.

‘Of course,' Violet replied, lowering her voice. ‘But only if you promise not to tell anyone. It is rather a secret find.'

Dodo immediately looked intrigued. ‘Could you give me the details too, Violet? I promise not to tell anyone. I'm going to Sorrento for Christmas and I'll need a whole new wardrobe.'

‘They are rather busy,' Imogen added. ‘But perhaps if you mentioned that you are special friends of ours, they might be able to fit you in.'

Audrey waved her hand. ‘I have a feeling that Mademoiselle Perrot will be the talk of the ball with you two as her celebrity models.'

Edie and Dodo went to wait in the foyer for the first guests to arrive, while the others examined the supper rooms.

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