Page 15 of The Unseen
“Yes, you’re right, but I find it strange that she wound up in England. Most Russian émigrés fleeing the Revolution flocked to France. There was a large Russian community of ex-pats living in Paris.”
“I suppose the fact that French was the official language of the Russian court made it easier for them to find their feet.”
“Yes, that might have been a factor,” Quinn said. “Why did they prefer French?”
“The Russian aristocracy considered their native tongue to be coarse, the language of the peasants. To speak French was a mark of sophistication attainable only by those of elevated station. Did Valentina speak English?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible. I suppose I’ll find out in due course.”
“Will Rhys be interested in doing an episode on Imperial Russia, do you think?” Gabe asked.
“I don’t see why not. Viewers still tune in for adaptations of the Russian classics. I hearWar and Peaceis getting a remake, andAnna Kareninais always a hit. I loved the 1997 adaption with Sean Bean. He made a very handsome Count Vronsky. And there was a new version only two years ago, with Keira Knightley. So there’s definitely a market.”
“But this is a later time period, and a more volatile one.”
“Later, yes; more volatile, not really.War and Peaceis all about the Napoleonic Wars. Hardly a peaceful time in history. AndDoctor Zhivagotakes place around the time of the RussianRevolution. One of the most popular films of the twentieth century.”
“True,” Gabe conceded. “I can’t wait to hear more. I’ve always been fascinated with Russian history.”
“And this time, it’s not one of your ancestors.”
“Thank God for that. I’ll never look at my family tree the same way again. Seems my ancestors weren’t as noble and heroic as I liked to believe when I was a boy.”
“Few people are truly noble and heroic in real life. Self-interest is the driving force of mankind, and self-interest doesn’t usually translate into selflessness.”
“No, it doesn’t. Still, we all need our heroes, don’t we?” Gabe glanced at the digital alarm clock on the bedside table. “Jill and Brian will be here in less than two hours.”
“Bollocks,” Quinn exclaimed. “I got so caught up in Valentina’s story, I nearly forgot. Can you pop into the off-license and get a bottle of Malbec? Or two. I’ll start on dinner.”
“I’ll take Alex with me. He can use a bit of fresh air. Is there anything else you need from the shops?”
“Get me some grated Parmesan and fresh basil.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Thanks.” Quinn stowed the necklace in a drawer. She’d spend more time with Valentina later, but for now, she had dinner to prepare.
EIGHT
Brian leaned back in his chair and patted his ridiculously flat abs. “That was lovely, Quinn. Truly. I wish Jill was a better cook.” His eyes twinkled with merriment as his gaze slid sideways to take in Jill’s reaction to that inflammatory statement.
Jill promptly elbowed him in the ribs, making him gasp dramatically. “I make a mean bangers and mash,” she said. “And excellent roast beef, in case you forgot.”
“That you do,” Brian agreed. “And I’m a very content man on those semiannual occasions.”
Jill opened her mouth in outrage, but Brian quickly leaned in and kissed her. “I’m only joking, love. You’re a great cook. You’re a great everything.”
“That’s better,” Jill replied with a triumphant smile.
Quinn was happy to see Jill and Brian so at ease with each other. Their relationship seemed to have blossomed over the past few months, since Jill had come to terms with the inevitable, and stopped worrying so much about the future of her business and making Brian feel as if he wasn’t as important to her as her shop. They had gone through a rough patch a few months back when Jill discovered that Brian was still in contact with his ex-girlfriend, but seemed to have come back stronger. Quinn hoped the relationship would last. With Jill’s business going under, she needed something solid in her life, something that made her happy.
“Brian, Jill mentioned you have an idea regarding finding my sister,” Quinn said. She’d hoped he would bring up the subject on his own, but she was growing impatient. Anything was better than the limbo they found themselves in, unable to extract any information from Quentin’s lawyer and failing to find a trace of Quentin online.
“I do, actually. I hope you don’t mind me sticking my nose into your private business,” Brian added, looking a bit embarrassed.
“Not at all. We need all the help we can get.”
“Well, it’s my cousin, you see. Drew was a detective in the Met before he got hurt on the job. Shot in the leg while pursuing a perp. The bullet shattered his knee, so he was forced to retire prematurely. Drew is not the type of person to take his retirement package and spend the rest of his days growing pansies. He started his own security firm and does some private investigating on the side. He only takes the cases that interest him.”
