Overwhelmed. Some of them are already my friends.”
He was a brute, but at that moment I was grateful for it.
I handed my completed application to Madame Fournier.
Her hand shook as she took it. “By law I need to have your photographs for the application.”
I pulled the white envelope out of my bag. “Right here.”
“Well, we require a trial visit day,” she said.
“I knew you would see it my way,” Taras said with a smile.
Moments later, Taras and I stepped out of the building, having left Max behind for his half day of getting acquainted, his test to see if he would get along well enough there to join the class. How happy he’d been to see the other children.
I said goodbye to Taras, told him I was off to buy bread, and smiled as I pulled on my gloves. There was no question Max would pass the test.
* * *
—
I MET RADIMIR AT the bakery on the corner.
“Clever girl, Varinka,” he said. “You understood my cryptic message.”
We took a quick train ride to Gare de Lyon station. The restaurant there was part of the station so we walked only steps up to the entrance. I would have my first date in Paris and then be back in time to pick up Max.
Radimir linked one arm in mine and hurried me into the restaurant. “Look up.”
I brought my gaze to the ceiling. “So beautiful.” The whole thing was covered with paintings of country scenes, in fanciful golden frames. In the middle of it all sat a giant gold chandelier.
“Isn’t it incredible? Since I first saw it I wanted to show you.”
A waiter sat us on two leather seats facing each other, a table between us. I slipped my arms out of my sable coat and let it fall back, the label there for all to see, Worth, printed in script, the “h” swooped back across the word. I made a note not to slurp my tea from the saucer.
Radimir looked good, his dark green cap matching his eyes. He tossed his cigarette pack onto the table; I slid a cigarette from it, brought it to my mouth, and waited. “How long have you been in Paris?”
He hesitated, a slight smile on his lips, and then lit a match. “About a week now. You?”
“A few weeks.” I coughed a bit. What was the attraction to smoking?
Radimir smiled. “You’ve become quite sophisticated, Varinka.”
I smiled and looked about the place. A date. In Paris. How exciting it all was. Meeting at the bakery, coming to such a fancy place full of rich Parisians.
A waiter handed us a sheet with the restaurant’s few offerings printed on it, but I could not tear my gaze from the ceiling.
“They’re all landscapes,” Radimir said. “I knew you’d like them. It seems crazy eating dinner at the train station but the food is good.”
I closed my eyes and breathed in the scents of the kitchen. Beef and onions.
“These paintings were done by the rail company, each is a different scene one might see on a trip on their trains, through places like Lyon, Marseille. Forty-one paintings altogether. By twenty-seven artists.”
“I like them all. But the one straight above is the best.”
He looked straight up and his wool cap almost fell off the back of his head. “You have a good eye. René Billotte painted that. France’s best. Perhaps we will travel by train together one day. Bring your mother. If she ever warms up to me.”
“She’s just very religious. She likes good people, though, so you have no worries.”
“I’ll blind her with my charms.”
“Why do you never take off your hat?”
“I’m afraid you won’t like me.”
He pulled off his cap to reveal his hair, deep red as my sable coat. I couldn’t help but stare.
“You hate it. Since I was a baby old ladies have been coming up to me and touching my red hair.” He tried to replace his cap.
I reached across the table and stopped him. “It’s beautiful. Not red like a sunset but deeper.”
Radimir sat up a little straighter. “They tell me my father had this hair as well. Titian the painter made it his signature.”
“Well, I like it very much.”
The menu was limited, no eggs or sugar and little bread, but they did have the famous bouillon soup they were known for so we ordered a bowl to split. My mouth watered at the thought. I’d had no French food since we’d arrived, cooking Russian food for Taras at home, unable to go out with