The Dark Glamour (666 Park Avenue 2)

well up in her eyes.
    No time for that,
she told herself sternly, squeezing them shut until the feeling subsided. A nondescript black sedan raced past her and then skidded to a stop in the middle of the block. The driver hopped nimbly out of the car and held one of its back doors open, and a long pair of legs in immaculate camel-coloured trousers emerged. They were followed by a pretty, paint-brushed-looking blouse and a wide fuchsia straw hat. It covered its wearer’s eyes, but Jane would recognize Elodie’s mother’s style anywhere. A quick glance confirmed that the woman’s husband had reached the street on the other side of the car, and Jane froze indecisively.
    From the still-open door behind Mrs Dessaix, another long pair of legs appeared, thigh-high boots first. They could have been an aggressive look for the middle of the afternoon, but their somber colour and the floaty, demure top paired with them made the look edgy but still appropriate. The girl had espresso-coloured eyes and a springy black bob.
    ‘El!’ Jane shouted, her feet flying across the damp pavement, oblivious to traffic, so happy that her voice broke in a sob. ‘Elodie, oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here!’
    She crushed her old friend in an overjoyed hug, but Elodie shrank back, her entire body rigid and unwelcoming. Jane stepped back, too, confused. If anything, Elodie looked even more confused: there was nothing friendly in her usually warm brown eyes. ‘Excuse me,’ she said coldly, in the same British-Haitian-Swedish accent Jane had borrowed for her new identity.
    It hit her in a split second: Elodie had just encountered Ella.
    ‘I’m from Jane,’ she whispered desperately in her friend’s ear. ‘I’m a friend of Jane’s, and we need your help, and I can explain if you just cover for me now, please?’
    Elodie stepped back and Jane held her breath, uncertain for a moment whether her Hail Mary would work. But after a fractional pause, Elodie smiled brightly and turned to her curious-looking parents. ‘Mom, Dad, you remember me telling you about Marjorie, right?’
    ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Jane mumbled awkwardly, shaking their offered hands. ‘I’m so sorry to just show up here, but I’m having a bit of a crisis, and I need to borrow your daughter for a couple of hours. If that’s okay.’
Mr and Mrs Dessaix, can your twenty-four-year-old daughter come out ad play?
    Mrs Dessaix’s head was inclined towards Elodie’s face, her clear brown eyes scrutinizing her daughter’s. ‘Go on, dear,’ she ordered, and although outwardly her husband maintained what Jane assumed was his professional unreadability, she suspected that if she read his mind, he would be as surprised as his wife was. ‘It sounds important, Daniel,’ Mrs Dessaix added with a gently reproving note in her voice, confrming Jane’s guess.
    ‘I don’t know how long this will take,’ Elodie admitted cautiously, her eyes flickering from her mother to Jane and back again. ‘I can try to meet you at the Finnish consulate later on, though—’
    ‘Nonsense,’ Daniel Dessaix rumbled in his rolling Haitian accent. ‘You didn’t come here to spend all your time doing my job,
chérie.
Enjoy yourself, help your friend, and don’t worry about the Finns – just do try to make it to the garden party on Wednesday; that one will be more fun for you anyway. It was a pleasure to meet you, Marjorie.’
    With that pronouncement, Jane and Elodie were clearly dismissed, and the Dessaixes made a prompt retreat into the gated compound. As soon as they were out of sight, all the fake friendliness ran off of Elodie’s face like a bad batch of dye.
    ‘I haven’t heard from Jane in months,’ she pointed out flatly, and Jane felt a pang of guilt. She had never intended to drop her old friends so completely, but her new life had turned out to be unexpectedly confusing at first, and then downright perilous. ‘I read the gossip columns, though,’ Elodie went on, ‘and I have a
lot
of questions.’
    Jane nodded, swallowing a few times to try to clear the lump from her throat. ‘Not here,’ she croaked finally. ‘Let’s get over to the water, and I’ll tell you everything.’
    ‘You’ll have to,’ Elodie replied fiercely, and Jane winced.
    She felt almost more alone than before she had spotted her old friend. Now Elodie was right beside her, their shoulders nearly brushing, but they were strangers.
Another thing Lynne Doran has taken from me,
she