the mirror to comb it. The dark, fine locks gleamed after washing. I look ravishing, she thought, and she smiled at her. self seductively. She left the apartment, taking Wolff’s note with her. Vandam would be interested to see his handwriting. He was interested in every little detail where Wolff was concerned, perhaps because they had never met face to face, except in the dark or at a distance. The handwriting was very neat, easily legible, almost like an artist’s lettering: Vandam would draw some conclusion from that. She headed for Garden City. It was seven o’clock, and Vandam worked until late, so she had time to spare. The sun was still strong, and she enjoyed the heat on her arms and legs as she walked. A bunch of soldiers whistled at her, and in her sunny mood she smiled at them, so they followed her for a few blocks before they got diverted into a bar. She felt gay and reckless. What a good idea it was to go to his house-so much better than sitting alone at home. She had been alone too much. For her men, she had existed only when they had time to visit her; and she had made their attitudes her own, so that when they were not there she felt she had nothing to do, no role to play, no one to be. Now she had broken with all that. By doing this, by going to see him uninvited, she felt she was being herself instead of a person in someone else’s dream. It made her almost giddy. She found the house easily. It was a small French-colonial villa, all pillars and high windows, its white stone reflecting the evening sun with painful brilliance. She walked up the short drive, rang the bell and waited in the shadow of the portico. An elderly, bald Egyptian came to the door. “Good evening, Madam,” he said, speaking like an English butler. Elene said: “I’d like to see Major Vandarn. My name is Elene Fontana.” -The major has not yet returned home, Madam.” The servant hesitated. :’Perhaps I could wait,” Elene said. ‘Of course, Madam.” He stepped aside to admit her. She crossed the threshold. She looked around with nervous eagerness. She was in a cool tiled hall with a high ceiling. Before she could take it all in the servant said: “This way, 208 Ken Follett
Madam.” He led her into a drawing room. “My name is Gaafar. Please call me if there is anything you require.” “Thank you, Gaafar.” The servant went out. Elene was thrilled to be in Vandam’s house and left alone to look around. The drawing room had a large marble fireplace and a lot of very English furniture: somehow she thought he had not furnished it himself. Every~ thing was clean and tidy and not very lived-in. What did this say about his character? Perhaps nothing. The door opened and a young boy walked in. He was very good-looking, with curly brown hair and smooth, preadolescent skin. He seemed about ten years old. He looked vaguely familiar. He said: “Hello, I’m Billy Vandam.” Elene stared at him in horror. A son-Vandam had a sonl She knew now why he seemed familiar: he resembled his father. Why had it fiever occurred to her that Vandam might be married? A man like that–charming, kind, handsome, clever-was unlikely to have reached his late thirties without getting hooked. What a fool she had been to think that she might have been the first to desire him! She felt so stupid that she blushed. She shook Billy’s hand. “How do you do,” she said. “I’m Elene Fontana.” “We never know what time Dad’s coming home,” Billy said. “I hope you won’t have to wait too long.” She had not yet recovered her composure. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind, it doesn’t matter a bit … 19 “Would you like a drink, or anything?” He was very polite, like his father, with a formality that was somehow disarming. Elene said: “No, thank you.” “Well, Fve got to have my supper. Sorry to leave you alone.” “No, no … to “If you need anything, just call Gaafar.” “Thank you.” The boy went out, and Elene sat down heavily. She was disoriented, as if in her own home she had found a door to a room she had not known was there. She noticed a photograph on the marble mantelpiece, and got up to took at it. It was a picture of a beautiful woman in her early twenties, a cool, THE KEY TO REBECCA 209