A loud bang sent me bolt upright in bed, struggling out of the haze of a frightening dream, soaked in sweat. Director Bernard had been hovering over me, yelling angry, unintelligible words in my face. He’d held my shoulders down and raised a hand to slap me. I’d been desperate to escape, but I had to find Bridgette first. Now, I shook my head, trying to erase the image, thankful to find myself at Catherine’s house.
After a moment, I realized the noise had come from the hallway. Someone must be hauling Julian’s luggage upstairs and into the room next to mine. I lay back against the pillows, sapped of energy by the late afternoon heat, dozing on and off.
It was after five o’clock when I fully woke. The upstairs was quiet, so I slipped across the hall to take a cool bath and wash my hair, brushing it dry in the last of the sunshine streaming through my bedroom window. After some consideration I slipped back into my blue dress, wanting to make a good impression on Julian. I sighed, examining my shabby appearance in the same tired outfit and worn, scuffed shoes. My next purchase would have to be a new pair of pumps.
Feeling shy and uncertain about meeting Catherine’s treasured brother, I paused near the bottom of the stairs to gather my courage, as their voices drifted from the salon.
“How does a gin and tonic sound?” Catherine asked.
“Perfect.” Julian cleared his throat. “I know you’ve always had a soft spot for stray mutts, Cat, but whatever made you decide to take in this métisse orphan?” His words came out terse and unhappy.
“The orphanage director is a vile man who treated her unfairly. I couldn’t leave her to the wolves.”
“You could have warned me that I’d be sharing the house with a total stranger.”
“Really, Julian, try to be more compassionate. So many of these poor girls leave the orphanage and end up destitute. Before long, they’re some man’s mistress, or worse.”
He let out a weary sigh. “Sorry. I’m exhausted emotionally and physically. I have little tolerance for unpleasant surprises.”
“I know you’re going through a terribly difficult period, but Vivi’s a lovely girl and will only be here a few months. She won’t get in your way.”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” he said, but his voice still rang with irritation.
I stood frozen on the stairs, my body sagging, wounded and confused. It had never occurred to me that Julian might think of me as an unwanted nuisance. The thought of facing him all evening and trying to be pleasant made me wilt. I considered running back upstairs to hide. Was he upset over living with a stranger or was it the fact that I was a métisse? Why hadn’t Catherine told him about me?
“I’m going to find Vivi,” Catherine said. She rounded the doorway and started as she spotted me on the stairs, briefly frowning. “There you are. Don’t you look nice?”
I forced a bright smile, not wanting her to know I’d overheard the conversation. “Sorry to be late. I fell asleep this afternoon.”
“Come meet the prodigal brother, returned home at last.”
I followed Catherine into the salon, my head spinning with misgivings, both embarrassed and angry that he could so easily dismiss me as unworthy of sharing his house. I didn’t want to be a burden, but he could at least meet me before passing judgement.
Julian rose, slowly unfolding his long frame. A flicker of surprise flashed across his face, as if someone other than whom he’d expected stood before him. He quickly stepped up and offered me a hand as Catherine made the introductions.
“Mademoiselle Dubois, delighted,” he said.
I searched his expression, seeking the disdain and frustration of his earlier comments. He had Catherine’s white-gold hair and brilliant blue eyes. A strong jaw and slightly crooked, longer nose gave him a more masculine version of her pretty face. No doubt he’d spent his privileged life pampered and spoiled, with little regard for others. Yet Catherine had as well, and she was kindness itself.
“Monsieur Courbet,” I said quietly, pulling my trembling hand from his grasp.
“Call me Julian. We’ll be living under the same roof, after all,” he said, still sounding annoyed. “May I address you as Vivi?” I nodded. He stepped aside, motioning for me to sit down.
My back stiff, I perched at the other end of the settee, feeling unwelcome and trying to avoid his intense regard.
“I made you a gin and tonic. See how you like it,” Catherine said, handing me a drink. She turned to Julian. “Tell us about your stop-off in Singapore.”
“Always an interesting experience when I’m with André,” Julian said. “He’s a friend I grew up with here who also went to Paris for university,” he explained to me. “He finished a degree in engineering and mining and has plans to put his training to use in this lost corner of the world, determined to find treasure where others have failed.”
“Like Pierre Lemont,” I said.
“Old Pierre? Exactly.” Julian lit a cigarette and blew smoke rings into the air. “But Pierre didn’t have the slightest idea what he was doing, while André comes armed with the latest sighting and excavation equipment. I may give him a hand now and again.”
“And how was the ship? Did you save any pretty young damsels in distress?” Catherine quipped.
Julian chuckled. “The youngest woman we met had to be at least forty. André and I got stuck dining with two colorful old geezers from England, who drank themselves silly every night—not that André behaved any better—and recounted endless tales of their exploits in Singapore and Penang. They’re engaged in some sort of murky import business; we never really figured out what. When we docked in Port Said and Djibouti, they insisted on taking us to the most unsavory places. I could tell stories, but they’re unfit for you ladies to hear. I had to keep an eye on André as he was usually too drunk to make rational decisions.”
Catherine shook her head. “Mother should never have let you and André go off on your own.”
“I am a grown man.” He grinned. “Mostly. Need I remind you, you’re only two years older than me. And what about you, Cat, have you been seeing anyone?”
Catherine concentrated on arranging the folds of her skirt. “No one special. There are few choices in these parts.” I could see her pain was still too fresh and feared she was close to tears.
“Too bad.” He sat back with an air of confidence, resting an arm along the top of the settee, one leg casually across the other, at ease with himself. He clearly enjoyed being the center of attention, the hero of his own stories. The word that came to my mind was arrogant. But perhaps his earlier comments about me had tainted my impressions.
Mali came into the salon and gazed lovingly at Julian, clearly thrilled by his return. “Dinner is ready. I prepared all your favorite Lao dishes, Monsieur Julian.”
“How I’ve missed your cooking, Mali.” He jumped up and threw an arm around her shoulders. “There was nothing in Paris that could come close.” She blushed and swatted at his arm, obviously pleased.
The dining table was set with the best china, silver, and linens, and candlelight filled the room with a soft glow. Julian held my chair, then ran around to seat Catherine.
Mali delivered a collection of steaming bowls and platters to the table, a rainbow of scents and colors, beaming at Julian as he exclaimed over each addition. In the past, she had served a few of these Lao dishes, but normally she prepared simple French fare.
I was excited to learn more about Lao food and see if any of the flavors brought back memories of when I was a young child living with my mother. Were these the dishes my mother had cooked? Mali placed a plate of fresh lettuce leaves, mint, and cilantro, along with slices of lime and bright red peppers, in the center of the table.
“How do I eat these?” I asked.
“They are for the laab moo, this one here with pork, and the laab kai with chicken.” Mali pointed to the bowls filled with finely chopped meats and vegetables. “You wrap the laab in the lettuce leaves and add whatever you like.” She named other dishes: “Here is mok pa, steamed fish in banana leaves, and tam mak hoong, papaya salad. Be careful of the cheow bong sauce. It’s very spicy.” She hurried back into the kitchen once more. It seemed sad and unfair that she wouldn’t sit down and eat with us when she’d been part of this family for fifteen years, but it was not the order of things.
I placed a tiny bit of cheow bong on my plate. “How hot is it?” I asked.
“Not that bad,” Julian said, but a playful smile gave him away.
“Don’t listen to him,” Catherine scoffed. “It will make your tongue burn for hours. Try a tiny speck first. If anything is too spicy for you, eat some sticky rice to cool your mouth down.”
“Didn’t they serve Lao food at the orphanage?” Julian asked.
I shook my head. “Only French food.”
“Oh, Vivi, I forgot to ask about the letter from Pakse,” Catherine said.
I reported the news from the orphanage director in Pakse on my brother and that he had written to the lycée in Saigon to learn of Antoine’s current whereabouts. Julian listened with a puzzled expression.
Catherine explained to him how I had discovered my parents’ names and the existence of a twin brother in my orphanage file. “The director here had no intention of sharing any of it. Vivi is trying to find her brother now.”
Julian’s jaw hung down, and he took a deep breath. “How diabolical. Can that even be legal?”
The unexpected sympathy in his voice surprised me, given his earlier displeasure over my presence. “I’m sure I’ll find my brother soon, and hopefully I’ll be able to learn more about my parents.” I swallowed hard, fighting the tightness in my throat that threatened tears.
“And how was the interview at River Transport today?” Catherine said, as if sensing my precarious emotions.
I described my brief meeting with Kham and his offer to hire me on a trial basis for a month. “I’m not sure exactly what I’ll be doing, but the office is a terrible mess, so I’ll start by cleaning and organizing things.”
“I hope it works out,” Julian said, taking a sip of wine. “Kham and several of his cousins attended the lycée in Hanoi while I was there. Kham was a year ahead of me, but I remember he was a bit rough-mannered and not much of a student.”
“Did you know his cousin, Prince Bounmy Savang?” Catherine asked. “He introduced Vivi to Kham.”
“We were in the same class.” Julian chuckled. “We had a rivalry going for top scores in almost every subject. It didn’t make us the best of friends.”
“Well, now he’s a pleasant young man who recently returned from Paris and works with Prince Phetsarath on foreign trade.” Catherine paused. “We had him for tea on Sunday.”
“Really? I’d like to renew my acquaintance with both the princes. They could be helpful with my import/export business.”
The thought of Julian using my friendship with Bounmy or my job with Kham for his benefit made me bristle. But Vientiane was a small town, and he would undoubtedly find a way to meet with them one way or another.
Julian was pleasant enough the rest of the evening, inquiring about my life in the orphanage and my schooling with what seemed like genuine interest, or at least curiosity. Knowing his misgivings about having me in the house, I resolved to stay out of his way as best I could. Undoubtedly my life was of little consequence to him one way or the other.