Page 11 of A Chance in a Million
She took a good look around. The wooden floor was polished mahogany laid in a herringbone pattern; the walls were adorned with massive oil paintings of Venetian scenes, and monumental chandeliers hung from the ceilings. Uniformed waiters and waitresses circulated with drinks and canapés and there was an unmistakable atmosphere of opulence both in these fine surroundings and among the guests. Jane wasn’t too sure she felt comfortable in such a gathering but she had a job to do so she straightened her back and decided to take all the help she could get.
‘Can you give me an idea of what to expect, please? I’d hate to make a fool of myself and let Her Ladyship down.’
‘I’m sure you’ll do just fine, but of course I’ll be happy to help. Now, has Veronica told you to bid for any items?’
Jane nodded. ‘Yes, just one.’
She had her employer’s gold card in her sparkly little clutch bag – also on loan – and had received instructions to bid for lot number 37. This was a gown which had once belonged to Italian film icon Sophia Loren, and Miss Leonard had told her to bid anything up to ten thousand euros for it. Jane had been gob-smacked at the astronomical figure but her employer hadn’t batted an eyelid, telling her the auction was in aid of a very good cause and she really wanted it as an important addition to her collection.
She saw Signora di Pontegrande smile. ‘The Loren dress, I wouldn’t mind betting. Am I right?’ Jane nodded. ‘Well, you come along with me and I’ll give you a helping hand if you need it, but you’ll be fine.’
‘Some champagne, signora?’ A waiter materialised at her side and, seeing that the other two were already clutching glasses, Jane automatically reached out for one, murmuring a silent prayer that she wouldn’t spill it on her precious dress. She resolved to take her time drinking it. One thing was for sure: tonight was definitely not the night for getting plastered.
She chatted to the elderly couple, telling them about her recent Masters degree but not about her military service. They then guided her around the room and introduced to a host of elegant people whose names Jane knew she would never remember. Finally a gong sounded and the guests all gradually made their way into a separate room with a charming frescoed ceiling and wood-panelled walls. In here rows of seats had been arranged facing a low stage. Once almost all the seats were filled, the master of ceremonies appeared and introduced the president of the child poverty charity that would benefit from tonight’s auction. As this gentleman thanked them all in advance for their generosity, Jane couldn’t help reflecting that if all the ladies here simply handed over their jewels, several million kids could be lifted out of poverty in one go. Still, she told herself, at least these people appeared to be using some of their money for a good cause.
After polite applause the master of ceremonies took over and the auction began. On entering the room, the guests had been issued with little wooden paddles, each bearing a number, and all the members of the audience needed to do was to hold up a paddle to bid. The system worked remarkably smoothly and a number of items sold for several thousands of euros. Interestingly, a signed set of first editions of Miss Leonard’s early books appeared as lot number 29 and raised almost a thousand euros. Shortly afterwards it was the turn of the Sophia Loren gown and Jane clutched her paddle firmly, hoping she wouldn’t make a mess of things. The bidding started at a thousand and moved quickly up to five thousand euros before slowing. At this point Signora di Pontegrande whispered to her that it was probably time to start raising her paddle to bid. Jane did as instructed and waited to be noticed.
‘Five thousand five hundred.’ The auctioneer pointed at her with his gavel and heads turned in her direction.
‘Six thousand.’ The auctioneer was pointing off to the left and the attention of the crowd changed.
Jane raised her paddle again and again and soon found herself in a bidding war with just one other bidder. She couldn’t see his face, but he had dark hair and he was sitting a few rows in front of her, off to one side. Finally the bidding reached ten thousand euros and it was against her. The auctioneer looked out hopefully around the audience for any other bidders but there were none and Jane knew she had to make a quick decision. She knew Miss Leonard really wanted this dress so she took a deep breath and decided to disobey her instructions and make one more bid, telling herself she could always pay the extra five hundred euros if her boss objected. She raised her paddle and waited.
‘Ten thousand five hundred euros.’ The auctioneer pointed in her direction and all eyes turned to her once more as silence descended on the room. She saw the auctioneer cast an interrogative glance across at the other bidder and distinctly saw him give a little shake of the head. After giving fair warning to any other bidders, the gavel came down and Jane knew she had successfully carried out her mission.
While the auction continued around her she sat back and relaxed. Carrying out orders and accomplishing missions had been her life in the regiment, and over these past two tough years she had missed the feeling of accomplishment that this could bring. Life since the army had been a physical struggle to regain her health and fitness after her injuries, and a mental struggle to come to terms with the loss of the man she had loved. Looking back she could see the huge black cloud that had been hanging over her. Now, at least, she could think of her time in the regiment without welling up. Could it be that this cloud was finally beginning to shrink?
At the end of the auction she bade farewell to her companions, thanking Signora Lavinia for her help and advice, and went over to the desk at the back to complete the formalities. She was just completing the transaction when she heard a male voice from close behind her.
‘Buona sera.’
Picking up the gold card and the receipt she turned to find that the owner of the voice was a tall, good-looking man with dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard. She had a sudden feeling of familiarity which was confirmed by what he said next.
‘Congratulations on beating me to the Loren gown.’ He had to be the other bidder. ‘Are you planning on wearing it yourself?’ He was smiling.
‘I’m afraid not. I was bidding for my employer.’ She found herself smiling back at him and this was puzzling. Smiling and making small talk had been absent from her life for some time now. She even managed a bit of cheek. ‘Sorry you didn’t get it. Wereyouplanning on wearing it yourself?’
His smile broadened. ‘I fear I don’t have the figure for it.’ He held out his hand towards her. ‘Paolo Padovan, I’m pleased to meet you. I’m the curator of the Mantua Costume Museum. We have a fine collection of clothes throughout the ages and I wanted to add a bit of twentieth-century glamour to it. Never mind, I’m sure something else will come up soon. Can I offer you a drink?’
She had been studying him closely. In fact he wasverygood-looking, with his dark brown eyes, immaculately groomed hair, and equally well-tailored dinner jacket. He was probably five or even ten years older than she was but very appealing and she felt a little spark of attraction. This, too, came as something of a surprise to her. Checking out random men had also been off her agenda for ages and her mind inevitably turned to Mark. Still, she decided, it wouldn’t hurt to accept this man’s offer. It was the polite thing to do under the circumstances.
‘Thank you, that’s very kind. Now that the auction’s finished and I’ve managed to do what I was sent here to do, I think I could allow myself a second glass of something.’
They walked out and through one of the gaming halls to the bar. All around were intense-looking people playing blackjack and roulette. There were all ages and all nationalities and a surprising number of the players were elderly ladies. Unfamiliar with casinos, she had been expecting men in tuxedos and glamorous women like in the James Bond films.
When they reached the bar Paolo turned towards her. ‘What’ll it be? Champagne? In a dress like that, champagne is almost obligatory.’
She felt another smile appear on her face. ‘Funnily enough, that’s exactly what my employer said to me but she was probably just thinking of possible stains. You see, it’s her dress. And yes, champagne or Prosecco would be lovely, thank you.’
He ordered two glasses of champagne and then turned back to her, his eyes running across her gown – and body – before he grunted approvingly. ‘Your employer has immaculate taste and the dress could have been made for you.’
Jane decided that he deserved to hear the full story. ‘Since you’re involved with this sort of thing, it might interest you to know that the dress was actually made for Ingrid Bergman.’
She saw his eyes light up. ‘Is that so? It’s absolutely stunning. Would you mind if I touch it?’
Somewhat apprehensively, she nodded and he reached out to take the cloth of the sleeve between his thumb and forefinger. He stood there for several seconds, his eyes trained on the dress, before passing judgement.
‘Exquisite. There’s something about the feel of vintage silk. It’s hard to explain but it’s a material that, unlike almost any other fabric, manages to conserve its integrity and somehow acquire character with age.’ He released his hold on her sleeve and caught her eye for a moment. ‘It’s a beautiful dress on a beautiful woman.’ Then he turned away to collect the glasses from the barman, leaving Jane to digest his words. Although it was always nice to receive compliments, she hoped this didn’t mean he was making a pass at her because she knew full well she wasn’t ready for anything like that. At least, not yet.
