only met her briefly, she was still his PA then. We were just on our honeymoon. Oh, Anya will be at the wedding too.’
‘Anya?’
‘Tatania.’ Libby gave Anya’s stage name and watched as Rachel let out a little squeal of delight. Anya too had been at the orphanage, though as the cook’s daughter. Now, she was prima ballerina in a Russian dance company and back in London performing Firebird. Rachel had seen her the last time the company was here and had been hoping to see her again before the production closed next week but it was proving impossible.
‘Do you think she can get me tickets?’ Rachel asked. ‘It’s completely sold out.’
‘She probably can but I doubt that she would—Anya’s not very friendly,’ Libby warned.
‘Oh, well, it’s worth a try. What about the other one?’ Rachel frowned as she tried to work it out. She knew, from what Libby had told her, that there had been four orphans but she struggled to keep up with their names. ‘Nikolai?’
‘No!’ Libby quickly said as she winced at the potential faux pas. ‘Nikolai’s the dead one. He killed himself when he was fourteen. He was being abused by his teacher.’
‘Oh.’
Rachel answered with her usual shallow response yet she saw her own rapid blink in the small hand mirror when she heard what had happened to Nikolai.
Yes, there were things she didn’t discuss, especially not on a wedding day with her anxious, pregnant friend.
Especially ever.
‘You’re talking about Roman,’ Libby said, ‘Daniil’s twin. He’s—’
Rachel turned as Libby broke off in mid-sentence and went silent.
‘Are you having another one?’ Rachel asked as they pulled up outside the church.
‘No.’ Libby shook her head. ‘Maybe,’ she admitted, as Rachel helped her out of the car. ‘God, Rachel, don’t let me make a scene. I can’t spoil the wedding.’
‘Oh, you shan’t. I’ll just throw a coat over you or something.’ Then she smiled. ‘You’ll be fine.’
The bells were ringing out and the press were taking photos of the arriving guests as they walked into the gorgeous old church. There were white roses everywhere and the organ was playing. Rachel followed Libby to a pew near the front and there was a buzz of anticipation all around.
Rachel loved weddings and this was going to be a good one, she was sure.
Daniil was dead sexy and the groom was too, Rachel thought, which hopefully meant half the congregation would be.
She turned and watched as a reed-thin, beautiful woman slipped into the pew behind them and then tapped Libby on the shoulder.
‘Libby.’
‘It’s lovely to see you, Anya.’ Libby smiled. ‘This is my friend Rachel...’
‘Anya!’ Rachel said, and her face was on fire, she knew, as she had an absolute fangirl moment. Rachel had been a huge fan of Tatania for years and had followed her career closely.
‘I think I must have seen you perform at least ten times...’ Rachel did a little count in her head. ‘Actually, twelve!’
‘Rachel’s not exaggerating,’ Libby added. ‘Any time you’re in London and she wasn’t performing herself she was watching you.’
‘I saw you in Paris when you played Lilac Fairy. I’m hoping to get to see Firebird again,’ Rachel said, but Anya shook her head.
‘We close next week.’
‘Yes, I know. I haven’t been able to get tickets,’ Rachel said, and let out a dramatic sigh, hoping, hoping that Anya would come to a fellow dancer’s rescue.
‘It sold out ages ago.’
Dismissed by Anya, Rachel turned and stared ahead. She could feel Libby trying not to laugh at Anya’s cool acceptance of Rachel’s desire to see her and her absolute shutdown with no offer of tickets!
‘Told you,’ Libby said.
‘You did.’ Rachel sighed.
As they waited for the bride to arrive Libby tried to chat about Rachel’s work, or lack of it.
‘You know that I’ve got a temporary teacher to fill in for me,’ Libby said, ‘but I’m always on the lookout—’
‘Libby,’ Rachel broke in. ‘I don’t want to teach.’
‘Then what will you do?’
‘I’m not sure.’
Her mother had asked her the same question last night with the addition of, ‘I warned you to have something to fall back on.’
Rachel had said nothing at the time but her jaw had gritted. Her mother hadn’t, Rachel was sure, meant another career. Evie Cary fell back onto men. Over and over. All had had money. Evie made sure that the men she dated would keep her in the style she’d like to become accustomed to.
There had been a parade of boyfriends and lovers. Some had lasted a weekend, some a few months. One for a couple of years.
He had walked out on her mother two weeks after Rachel had left home.
Surprise, surprise.
Rachel jerked her mind away from dark memories and tried to focus on the future.
She didn’t need someone or something to fall back on, she wanted to fall into her new life.
Money wasn’t too much of a problem in the short term.
She had worked too hard to spend much and could take some time to figure things out. She looked over at Libby and wondered whether to tell her her idea.
‘I was thinking of starting a blog.’
‘A blog?’ Libby said. ‘Why?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
The pews continued to fill, but to the right and not so much to the left, and it suddenly dawned on Rachel that, given the groom was an orphan...
Libby laughed again as Rachel’s shoulders sagged.
‘I thought the place would be teeming with sexy Russians,’ Rachel sighed.
‘Oh, well, there’s always André,’ Libby said.
‘No.’ Rachel shook her head as Libby spoke of Rachel’s long-term colleague and occasionally intimate friend. ‘Didn’t I tell you? He’s met someone and it’s serious.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep.’ Rachel nodded. ‘They’re getting married in a fortnight.’
