The Novel in the Viola Read Online Free Page A

gathered in the drawing room. Those who had chosen to attend the party had apparently decided by unspoken accord to dazzle in their finest. If coming to the Landau party was dangerous, then they may as well be resplendent. The men were dashing in their white tie and tails. The ladies wore dark furs or dull raincoats down to the floor, but when they removed their chrysalis-coats we saw that beneath them they sparkled like tropical butterflies. Margot’s dress was shot silk, indigo blue as a summer’s night and studded with silver embroidered stars, which twinkled as she moved. Even fat Frau Finkelstein wore a plum-coloured gown, her white, doughy arms puckered by tight gauze sleeves, grey hair plaited into a crown and studded with cherry blossom. Lily Roth conjured a feathered fascinator from her bag like a magician, and fastened it in her hair, so she resembled a bird of paradise. Every lady wore her jewels, and all of them at once. If in the past seeming garish or extravagant or petty bourgeois had troubled us, now, as we felt everything sliding away into blackness, we wondered how we could have worried about such things. Tonight was for pleasure. Tomorrow we would have to sell our jewels – grandmama’s spider-web diamond brooch, the gold bracelet studded with rubies and sapphires that the children had teethed upon, the platinum cufflinks given to Herman when he made partner at the bank – so tonight we would wear them all and shine beneath the moon.
    Julian sipped burgundy and listened to Herr Finkelstein’s stories, smiling easily in all the right places. I’d heard them all – the time he met Baron Rothschild at a concert, and the Baron, mistaking him for someone else, had tipped his head and the Baroness her sherry glass, ‘and who on earth would have dreamt there was a smart fellow as bald and round as me? I must find my double and shake his hand. ’ I rolled my eyes, bored from a distance. Julian saw me and gestured for me to join them; I shook my head and edged away. Julian stifled a laugh. Margot exchanged pleasantries with Frau Roth, Robert hovering beside her, awkward and incapable of small talk. He could discuss only his passions: astronomy, music and Margot, while Frau Roth’s sole topic of conversation was her seventeen grandchildren. I hoped they were not sitting next to one another at dinner.
    I knew this was my last party as a guest. I studied the manservant in his black tie, and impassive face, and tried to imagine myself as one of them, refreshing glasses and pretending not to hear conversation. Pity I’d never said anything worth eavesdropping upon when I’d had the chance. I tried to think of something now – some profound insight upon the state of the nation. No. Nothing. I smiled at the servant, attempting to convey some sense of solidarity. He caught my glance, but instead of smiling back, glided over.
    ‘Fraulein? Another drink?’
    I looked down at the full glass in my hand. ‘No. Thank you. I’m fine. All topped up.’
    A flicker of confusion showed on the man’s face – clearly I had summoned him for my amusement. I flushed, and muttering some apology hurried out of the drawing room. I lingered in the hallway, listening to the snatches of chatter floating from the next room. ‘Max Reinhardt is to leave for New York next week, I hear . . . Oh? I thought it was London.’
    I closed my eyes and fought against the impulse to stick my fingers in my ears. The kitchen door was firmly shut but emanating from it was a series of clatters and bangs and some of Hildegard’s more colourful curses. No one, not Rudolph Valentino, not Moses himself, could have persuaded me to enter the kitchen at that moment.
    From my vantage point, I saw Margot and Robert whispering in the corner, hand in hand. I had it on good authority that flirting with one’s spouse in public was the depth of ill manners (with someone else’s husband it was perfectly fine, of course) but once again, Anna informed me