hey called her the Avenue of the Grande Armée, you know,’ M said, turning on her side and looking at Larry.

‘Who?’ he asked, sounding sleepy.

‘Margaretha Zelle MacLeod.’

‘Who on earth was that?’ he asked, pushing himself up on the pillows, staring at her.

‘She was also known as Mata Hari. She was an exotic dancer, and she got her nickname because of the extraordinary number of army officers she slept with during the First World War. She was a demi-mondaine, which, as you know, is simply a euphemism for prostitute.’

‘Why are you telling me all this?’ Larry asked, puzzled but intrigued.

‘Because I was just thinking about her. She lived here at the Plaza Athénée for a time, in early Nineteen seventeen, and this was her suite.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding! Now, why do I say that? Of course you’re not kidding.’

‘That’s right. Anyway, she checked out towards the end of January, and went to another hotel, where she was later arrested for espionage. She had spied for the French, but she was accused of being a double agent, working for the Germans.’

‘The famous spy, and now I remember. I once saw an old movie about her, starring Garbo. Or was it Dietrich?’

‘Both of them made Mata Hari movies. But she wasn’t a double agent, at least not according to British MI5, who believed the charges against her had been trumped up. Anyway, she was executed for treason later that year. In October.’

‘And tell me, M, how do you know all this?’ An affectionate smile played around his mouth, and he leaned into her, kissed her brow, as always amused.

‘I read a book about her, and I remembered certain things.’

‘And you do have an exceptional memory, that I’m aware of, and how do you know this was her suite?’

‘The concierge told me. I asked him which one had been hers, and he said, “You are occupying it, madame.” I told him I’d read this interesting book, and gave him the title. Guess what? He’d read it too. It was translated into French.’

Larry started to laugh, and said, through his laughter, ‘There’s nobody like you, M, and I guess if you ask a lot of questions, you get a lot of information.’

‘That’s true. Oh, my God, Larry! Look at the clock. It’s already eight fifteen. Aren’t we meeting Luke in the bar at eight thirty?’

‘That we are, so we’d better get a move on, sweetie.’ He jumped out of bed, exclaiming, ‘I just need to wash my face and comb my hair. It’ll only take me a few minutes.’

‘Me too,’ M answered, and went to the dressing table. After brushing her hair and tying it back in a ponytail, she smoothed the merest touch of makeup over her face, and added pale lipstick. Within a couple of minutes she had dressed in a white cashmere turtleneck, a black satin waistcoat, and wide black satin trousers. She found a small black purse and stepped into high-heeled black satin shoes.

‘Ready!’ she called out, and grinned as she turned around. Larry had dressed in a similar fashion, was wearing black jeans, a black blazer and a crisp white open-necked shirt. ‘I keep telling you we think alike,’ she said.

‘So I see, and you look gorgeous, my girl.’ Taking hold of her arm, he led her out of the suite and down the corridor to the lift. ‘Am I relieved you’re not one of those women who mess around with their makeup for hours.’

‘Call me Swifty. That’s me.’

A moment later they stepped out of the lift and into the hall. It was exactly eight thirty and Luke Hendricks was standing there waiting for them.

There were hugs and kisses, and Luke said, ‘My God, you two look fantastic. I wish I had a camera.’

‘Not tonight, Josephine,’ M murmured, and seeing Luke’s baffled expression she explained, ‘That’s a famous phrase of Napoleon’s, supposedly uttered once by him to Josephine, his wife. I guess he was feeling too tired.’

The two men were still laughing at M’s comments as the three of them walked down the Galerie des Gobelins, heading in the direction of The Bar. It had recently been redone and was colourful, glamorous, modern, and the ‘in’ place to be. And very busy.

Luke ushered M through the door and led her towards the far end of the room. She suddenly spotted Caresse sitting with Geo and James, and let out a small whoop of delight. Rushing forward, she left Luke and Larry to follow in her wake.

Caresse jumped up the moment M reached the table, her perky little face filled with excitement. ‘I got in this morning, and I’ve been dying to see you ever since,’ Caresse explained, beaming at her.

‘I can’t believe you’re here!’ M answered, hugging her redheaded friend, of whom she had grown so fond.

‘I wasn’t going to miss your first walk down the catwalk,’ Caresse replied, sitting down, still grinning. ‘It’s an event.’

Geo stood up and hugged her, and so did James. Geo said, ‘We didn’t want to miss your debut either, so we came over for a few days.’

‘I’m so happy you did, I’m thrilled the three of you are here, really happy to see you all.’

‘It’s also our honeymoon,’ James announced, rather proudly. ‘We got married a few days ago at City Hall.’

‘Congratulations!’ M sat down, her expression one of genuine happiness. These three people had become very important to her in New York, and she considered them dear friends. And she was delighted that James and Geo had married.

‘This is going to be a real celebration tonight,’ she said. ‘Let’s have some champagne, Larry. You remember Larry, don’t you, Caresse?’

Larry came and shook Caresse’s hand, greeted her with genuine warmth, and sat down at the table. Turning to M, he said quietly, ‘Shall we tell them our news?’

M was silent for a moment, thinking quickly, and then she said, ‘Why not? It’s going to be announced this coming week anyway.’

All eyes were on Larry as he said in a low, confiding voice, ‘We got married, too. Also at City Hall in New York, just before we left in December. We did it in secret and we’d like you all to keep it a secret for a few days, because Kate Morrell wants to make a big splash when she announces it. After the spring and summer collection has been shown.’

Everybody promised to keep quiet; they gave their congratulations in hushed voices, and Luke asked, ‘No photographs?’

‘Of course not!’ M threw him an amused glance. ‘However, I was married in the pale blue Tremont coat and pillbox hat, and there’s no reason you can’t take our “wedding” shot, so called. We can stage it next week.’

‘What a clever little thing you are,’ Luke laughed.

‘Not so little, Luke.’ Reaching out, M took Geo’s hand in hers. ‘I’m so happy you married James, and that you, James, married Geo. You’re the perfect couple. Congratulations again, and isn’t it nice that the four of us are celebrating our nuptials together tonight.’

‘It is.’ James then grimaced all of a sudden. ‘I’m afraid I won’t be too popular with my parents when we tell them we got married without them being present. I think they were hoping we might tie the knot in England so they could be there.’ He shook his head, and continued, ‘What about yours? How did they take it?’ James looked from M to Larry, a questioning expression on his face.

M said, ‘I never know what to think when it comes to my parents and their reaction to the things I do. They regard me as a bit of a kook, I guess. They were sweet and congratulatory, then wanted to know if we’d like to get married again. In England, at our family home, where I grew up, and I said why not, and that seemed to satisfy them. They sounded happy when they hung up.’

‘And mine are in the middle of the most monumental row since that strange little man the Prince of Wales announced he was abdicating to marry the love of his life, Wallis Simpson. And don’t ask me what my parents’ row is about. I don’t really know. However, because of it, they were sort of…well, offhand. Preoccupied with their own drama. But my mother said something about being certain my new wife was lovely, and that I was a very lucky chap. It was as if I’d been married before, the way she spoke.’

‘So basically we’re off the hook,’ M asserted.

‘Only for the moment,’ Larry announced, and motioned to the waiter, asked for the wine to be served, then he said to the others, ‘Earlier I ordered Billecart-Salmon pink champagne, and it’ll be here in a moment. I hope you all like pink champagne?’

‘Oh, I’ve never had it,’ Caresse said, and then blushed, wishing she hadn’t said this. ‘I’m sure I will though,’ she added, still pink in the face.

Larry continued, ‘I booked a table here at the hotel, at the Relais Plaza. We happen to love it, and who wants to go out again in this cold? M and I were frozen stiff today.’

‘It’s my favourite spot,’ Luke said, and James agreed, then went on, ‘And it’s my dinner.’

‘Oh, no, not this time. It’s mine,’ Larry argued.

‘No fisticuffs, chaps,’ M said, and was glad when the waiter arrived with the champagne.

Once they had toasted each other several times, and sipped their champagne, Larry said, ‘I’ve got to tell you this amazing thing I just learned from M. It’s a marvellous story. Better still, let her tell you herself.’

‘What amazing thing?’ M asked, playing dumb, and gazing at him over the rim of her glass, her eyes loving.

‘Your story about the Avenue de la Grande Armée.’

M burst out laughing, and immediately recounted the tale of Mata Hari. They were all agog, listening attentively.

When she had finished it, Luke said, ‘Listen, kiddo, you’ve just given me a great idea for a magazine spread. Featuring you, naturally. I’d love to transform you into different famous women for a series of pictures…’

‘Perhaps you could transform me into an Audrey,’ M suggested teasingly.

Luke, who was deadly serious about his sudden idea, ignored her teasing. ‘It would have to be done with wigs most probably, but the makeup would be easy. Some good artists could make you over to look like some of the famous women who’ve stayed here. I bet the hotel has a record.’

‘They do,’ M responded, understanding now that he was indeed extremely serious. ‘They’ll show you their albums. Many big movie stars came trotting here over the years; it’s always been popular with the movie crowd. The Plaza is also considered the pantheon of the haute-couture world, because all of the famous fashion designers are located around here, on Avenue George Cinq, Rue François Premier and Avenue Montaigne. Actually, Luke, I think you’ve hit on a fabulous idea, even though it’s probably been done before.’

‘Everything’s been done before,’ Luke shot back. ‘There’s nothing new under the sun.’ He paused, gave her a long look. ‘But do you really think the idea will work, M?’

‘I do. Ask the others what they think.’

He did. They all talked about it for a while, drinking their champagne and enjoying themselves. And they laughed a lot when they came up with the names of famous women who would challenge Luke’s inventiveness when it came to hair and makeup for M.

‘That was fun,’ Luke said later to Caresse as they left The Bar, trooped down the Galerie, across the lobby and into the side door of the Relais Plaza.

Larry preferred the second level of the Relais, and Werner, the maître d’, greeted them warmly and led them up the steps, over to a roomy table in the centre. Once they had been seated, had studied the menu and ordered, M said to Geo, ‘I want to show you something. Something really special. Come on.’

They both stood up, but as M pushed her chair back, she suddenly noticed a sad look settling on Caresse’s face. Not wanting her to feel left out, M exclaimed, ‘And you too, Caresse! I want you both to see this wonderful work of art.’

Suddenly full of smiles again, Caresse rose, and she and Geo followed M down the three steps into the other part of the restaurant. Although it was busy, M managed to manoeuvre them closer to the bar.

‘Just look at that,’ she said once they stood near the bar, indicating a panel on the wall above it. ‘That dates back to the Nineteen thirties, and it’s a bas-relief depicting Diana the huntress. I think it’s beautiful, so unusual. I’ve always admired it, and it was recently re-gilded, so it looks better than ever.’

‘It’s certainly unique,’ Geo agreed, ‘and the panel has actually been sculpted on the wall, hasn’t it?’

‘Yes. And what I love about it is the sense of movement it depicts. It looks so…alive, with Diana and the dogs chasing the stag.’

Caresse agreed, and added, ‘The restaurant is…gorgeous. Did you see those two stained-glass panels of Nineteen-twenties women? I hadn’t noticed them when we came in. I think—’ Caresse cut herself off, and grabbed hold of M’s arm. ‘I can’t believe it, M,’ she cried in a whisper. ‘Look, over there at that table where the blonde woman is sitting. She’s with that awful guy Samson, Howard Dart’s real-estate client. The guy who was badgering me to sell the studios. He’s a jerk, just like Howie.’

M followed the direction of Caresse’s gaze and saw that she was correct. It was Samson; he had suddenly noticed their presence and was staring across the room at them.

M shrugged and muttered to Caresse, ‘Don’t pay any attention to him, don’t acknowledge him, just walk straight ahead, follow me.’ As she spoke she led the way, her nose in the air, heading down the room.

Caresse and Geo did the same thing, appeared oblivious to Samson. But seeing him had upset Caresse, and she hadn’t liked the way he had focused his gaze on M. She shivered involuntarily. There was something odd about Samson. He seemed sinister to her.