Chapter 23

23

PARIS, SEPTEMBER 1939

Evelina sat in her suite and looked around at her extravagant surroundings, knowing that it was all coming to an end. Despite working so hard these past two months, somehow Antoine had still been the one to pull the strings and decide her fate. After her first showing at the Ritz, Paris, he’d made it clear to all the other buyers gathered that he intended to secure the collection, and had made her an offer she simply couldn’t refuse. And although he’d paid what he owed her, Antoine had never, to the best of her knowledge, offered her clothing for sale at Les Galeries Renaud. Perhaps it was too painful for him to see her designs in his store, or perhaps he’d simply bought her new collection to look after her financially. Or perhaps he was simply bitter; the truth is, she would never know. All she knew was that every piece of their business correspondence had been sent through his secretary since that fateful night.

She lit a cigarette and sat back in bed, wearing a new set of silk pyjamas that accommodated her growing frame—a frame that could no longer be so easily disguised. She was still slim, but with an expanding waistline that would make going about her usual business most difficult, given that she didn’t have a husband.

What she did have, though, and what she knew many women in her position wouldn’t have, was money. Money to tide her over until the baby was born, to keep a roof over her head and food on the table; to allow her time to figure out exactly what she was going to do. Not enough to keep a suite at the Ritz, but enough to be comfortable. But as grateful as she was, what she truly wanted was Antoine. She reached for the letter that she still kept beside her bed, knowing that all she had to do was agree not to have the baby, and everything she loved about her old life would revert back to how it had been. But that was not an option, not now, and neither was staying at the Ritz for much longer. She would have to give up her suite and find somewhere to safely stow all her things while she found another place to live. She certainly wasn’t going home to Provins, but she would have to find somewhere to hide and have her baby. She couldn’t see that she had any other choice, because if she stayed in Paris, and had a baby so conspicuously out of wedlock, her career would never recover.

After receiving her breakfast tray and coffee in bed, Evelina rose and dressed in a loose-fitting dress and her favourite jacket, deciding to hand-deliver the letters she’d written the night before. Each one said the exact same thing, the only difference being the name at the top. She wanted to ensure the news of her departure wasn’t marked by any rumours or insinuations. It was of the utmost importance to her that she cemented her reputation in the fashion world, even if her name wasn’t currently on the lips of every woman in Paris, given her recent lack of exposure, so that she would be given the chance to return when she was ready. She’d written the letter so many times over that the words were etched into her mind.

It is with great sadness that I share my decision to set down my pencil now that war has been announced. I cannot possibly continue to design extravagant dresses during a time of such upheaval, and will instead turn my attentions to where I can best be of assistance to the war effort. It has been my great pleasure to share my collections with you these past few years, and I look forward to a brighter future after what I hope is a short war, designing once more for the modern Parisian woman. I have no doubt that women will be ready for fashion once this dark time is over. I will be in touch to launch my new collection, hopefully next summer, when the war is behind us.

With my fondest regards,

Evelina Lavigne

With her coat over her shoulders and the letters in her hand, she left her apartment and set off down the street, careful to draw the fabric around her midsection as she walked, calling in to each business with a smile and a purposeful nod. She intentionally left Antoine’s place of business until last, wanting to hand-deliver the letter to him, to at least see him one last time to make sure she was doing the right thing. Or perhaps, in her heart, she wanted him to see her, so that he could change his mind.

But just as she was crossing the street, she saw a familiar figure ahead. Antoine . Only he wasn’t alone. He was walking with his arm crooked, the hand of a beautiful petite blonde woman linked through it.

She immediately knew that Antoine was with his wife.

So, this is Corina. All these months imagining her to be a beast, and she’s as pretty as could be with hair the colour of golden sand . He’d told her that he’d never been in love with Corina; that she wasn’t his type, that Evelina’s beauty set her apart from the woman he was wedded to. But she could see that his words couldn’t be further from the truth. His wife was stunning.

Evelina wished she could have kept her head down and walked on, but something about seeing them together was almost impossible to look away from. They looked happy; in love; content . All those times he’d told her that theirs was a marriage in name only, that he was deeply unhappy, that Evelina was the only woman who could bring him to life. They’d all been lies; lies that she’d wanted to hear and had been only too happy to fall for. The pain in her chest was like a knife cutting deep, being twisted with such force that she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She’d given Antoine her heart, but he’d never given his in return, and for the first time she felt guilty about what they’d done. Because if she’d known the truth, if he hadn’t lied to her, she would never have engaged in a relationship with him.

It was then that Antoine saw her, his eyes meeting hers and immediately widening, like a deer caught in the headlights of a motor vehicle. His wife must have sensed they knew each other, because Evelina saw her look between the two of them, noticed something pass across her expression. She knows. She knows it was me, that I was the one keeping her husband from her . It was as if she knew they’d been intimate, that she wasn’t simply an associate crossing the street.

But if she did know, she certainly didn’t say anything.

‘Evelina,’ Antoine said, as she stopped on the cobbled street in front of him.

‘Antoine,’ she replied, in a clipped tone, intentionally not making eye contact with his wife. ‘I was coming to deliver this letter for you.’

He took the envelope she handed to him, at the same time as his wife cleared her throat.

‘Evelina, I’d like you to meet my wife, Corina,’ he said, his voice catching, beads of sweat gathering above his top lip. She almost enjoyed seeing him so uncomfortable, given the way he’d treated her.

‘It’s lovely to meet you, Corina.’

‘Evelina Lavigne?’ Corina asked, her eyes widening in much the same way as her husband’s had only moments earlier, only for an entirely different reason. ‘The designer?’

She nodded, glancing at the other woman only briefly.

‘How wonderful to meet you. Antoine has often brought home your dresses for me. He loves the way they fit.’

Evelina’s stomach turned when she saw the devoted, loving way Corina looked up at him as she spoke. Perhaps it was for her benefit, to make it clear who he was with, but either way it made Evelina deeply uncomfortable, and very conscious of her rounded stomach.

‘Darling,’ Antoine said, moving closer to his wife, as if wanting to show which of the women was most important to him, his hand hovering over her back. The same way he used to touch me, his hand light as we walked into a room, as he smiled down at me before taking me back to the apartment . ‘I might need a moment with Evelina, if you don’t mind. She’s one of our most important designers in the store, as you know.’

‘ Was one of your most important designers,’ Evelina said, forcing a smile. ‘I came to give you this letter to inform you that I won’t be designing again until after the war. I don’t feel it’s appropriate to make frivolous party dresses when I can assist with the war effort. Life certainly feels as if it’s changing, don’t you think?’ She was proud of how composed she sounded, despite the fact that she was breaking into pieces on the inside.

Evelina instinctively touched her stomach, her palm against her dress as she felt the baby move, as she wondered if Antoine understood what she was trying to say. It was still a new feeling to her, the sensation of fluttering that was impossible to ignore, and although she hadn’t intended to draw attention to her condition, she had done precisely that. The moment her hand moved, so did Corina’s gaze, staring first at her stomach, and then meeting Evelina’s gaze, her eyes narrowing as she seemed to understand what was happening. The other woman’s cheeks flushed a deep pink, and Evelina was certain hers did the same.

‘May I speak to you for a moment, Evelina?’ Antoine said brusquely, his cheeks also highly coloured now. ‘My love, please excuse me, our business will only take a minute and then you’ll have my undivided attention.’

Evelina took a few steps towards the store, with Antoine walking quickly beside her. She had a feeling that if he could have dragged her along, he would have, although she doubted he’d so much as brush shoulders with her in front of his wife.

‘Are you trying to humiliate me?’ he asked, running his hand anxiously through his hair. ‘This is not the time or the place.’

Evelina held her head high, keeping her voice even despite the fact that her chin was trembling. ‘To the contrary. I wanted you to know that I?—’

‘That you’re very obviously pregnant? Is that what you wanted me to see? Wanted my wife to see?’ He was seething with anger, and she knew then that even if he’d wanted to support her, he wouldn’t have been the man, or father, she’d once hoped he would be. Her heart broke that little bit more, but she refused to cry in front of him or make a scene.

‘Antoine, you’ve made it very clear that you’re not interested in having this baby with me,’ she said, keeping her voice intentionally low. ‘But you’ve also made it abundantly clear that you will continue to control my life, should I stay here in Paris. You’ve already failed to display my new designs in the store, which I understand might be for personal reasons, but it means that no one in Paris is seeing my new collection. So I’ve decided to leave.’

She watched as he glanced back over his shoulder at his wife. ‘Leave and go where?’

‘London, if you must know,’ she said. ‘I’m leaving at the end of the week.’

‘London? This week?’ He shook his head, clearly angry as he whispered to her. ‘Evelina, what we had we could still have, please, if you’d only?—’

‘Goodbye, Antoine,’ she said, cutting him off and not wanting to hear anything else he had to say. She couldn’t believe that he’d even be trying to have this conversation with her, with his wife almost within earshot. ‘Go back to your wife rather than embarrassing yourself even further.’

She didn’t bother to look back at Corina, knowing she was most likely confused at what was going on, if she hadn’t already suspected that Antoine was the father of her unborn child. But she did look at Antoine one more time, no longer seeing the handsome, charismatic man she’d once fallen in love with. Instead, she saw a man scared of losing what he wanted, a man who was used to holding the power in any situation he was in, who still couldn’t understand why she hadn’t simply done what he’d told her to do.

But she was pleased she looked at him, because looking into his eyes reminded her of the mistakes she’d made, mistakes she had no intention of repeating ever again.

You’re not one of those mistakes though, little one. You’re going to be the most beautiful creature that’s ever come into this world .

‘Evelina!’ Antoine called out to her as she walked away.

He could call her all he liked, but she wasn’t going back.

London felt like the right place to go, both for her reputation and her sanity. She needed to be in a city, to keep her dream alive even if she wasn’t in Paris, and it also seemed like somewhere she could establish herself if she chose not to return to France. She doubted the war would go on for long, but she needed to find somewhere safe to live, so she could begin designing after the baby had arrived.

Because she intended on keeping her baby, no matter how tough things became.

Evelina walked with her hand resting gently on her stomach. We don’t need him. We never have, and we never will .