The other woman moved around the glass box, leaning forward, which made Georgia do the same.
‘Many people who remember the family’s jewels expect these to be pink sapphires, to match the famous Italian pink sapphire tiara that hasn’t been seen since the abdication, but they were made at different times, and from different stones. They were each thought to be prized pieces from the monarch’s collection, though.’
‘So those people, the collectors who purchased the jewellery, have had to keep the pieces hidden all these years? After paying what I can only presume was an exorbitant amount of money for them in the first place?’ Georgia asked, trying to imagine owning something so breathtaking, yet having it hidden away for so long.
‘Correct,’ the assistant said. ‘These earrings are being offered on the open market for sale for the very first time at our upcoming auction, and many people are curious to know whether other investors will come forward when they see them advertised. It might finally answer the question, once and for all, about how many other pieces there are throughout Europe in the hands of private collectors. Or perhaps the Italian royal family themselves will be impressed with the interest we generate, and decide to offer some of their other pieces for sale, too.’
‘Wow, I can see why these caught your eye. It must have been heartbreaking for them to part with so many of their pieces,’ Sam said, peering over Georgia’s shoulder.
‘We understand that they retained most of their collection, unlike other European monarchs who sold everything when they went into exile. But what they did sell would have been worth a small fortune, even back then.’
Georgia smiled as the other woman excused herself to help another customer, dragging her eyes from the earrings.
‘Have you found anything to bid on?’ Sam asked, as she started to walk away. ‘I don’t think I can live without that bracelet.’
‘No,’ Georgia said, sighing as she linked her arm through her friend’s. ‘I just…’ Her voice trailed off.
Sam stopped walking and groaned. ‘Do you want the bracelet as well? Was that your pick, too? Trust us to both?—’
‘No, it’s not the bracelet. It was gorgeous on you, Sam. Truly it was.’
Sam’s eyebrows lifted in question.
‘Those earrings, they just…’ Georgia wondered if she was actually going mad, but if she was going to tell anyone it would be Sam. ‘Do you remember that day, when we were in the middle of negotiations to sell the company, and I had to go to that meeting at a lawyer’s office? You kept calling me because it was all so exciting and they’d called to ask us in for one final meeting while I was out? It was about eighteen months ago.’
‘The meeting about your grandma’s estate, or something?’ Sam asked as they began walking again. ‘Sure, I remember. It’s crazy to think it took us so much longer to finish the negotiations and close the sale after that.’
‘We were so busy at the time, we were barely leaving the office even to sleep, and I just put it all out of my mind. I honestly haven’t thought about it since, there was just too much else going on, until I saw those earrings just now.’
Sam squeezed her arm. She was the only person who knew the truth about Georgia’s family, which meant she didn’t have to explain why anything to do with her grandmother was traumatic for her. Sam had been there when she’d received the news that her grandmother wasn’t coming for her, when her family’s lawyer had talked to her about the reality of her situation, of a minor with no immediate family to step in as her legal guardian. Georgia would never forget how protective Sam had been, how fiercely she’d insisted that Georgia would never be alone, that she’d be able to stay with them.
‘I don’t think I’m seeing the link,’ Sam said, when Georgia didn’t continue. ‘What does that meeting have to do with those earrings?’
‘The lawyer gave me a little box that day, which had been intended for my grandmother. It had a stone inside, one that looked the exact same colour as those tourmalines.’
‘The same as those earrings?’ Sam asked.
‘Theverysame as those earrings. I mean, I tucked it away in my bedside drawer and I haven’t looked at it since, so I could be wrong, but?—’
‘Why didn’t you tell me all this back then?’ Sam asked. ‘Was there anything else in the box?’
‘A clipping from a newspaper, although I couldn’t read it. I think it was in Italian, or maybe French?’
Sam stopped walking again and stepped in front of Georgia. ‘Let me get this straight. You received a mysterious little box, with a pink stone and a newspaper clipping inside, and you never thought to tell me about it until now? You truly haven’t thought about it since?’
Georgia shrugged. ‘I honestly haven’t, I just put it out of my mind. Although when you say it like that…’
‘Come on. I’m going to register to bid, and then we’re going out for drinks and you can tell me all about what actually happened at that meeting. I can’t believe you’ve been sitting on this for so long.’
Georgia knew better than to argue with Sam. They’d been like sisters since she’d moved in with her family as a fifteen-year-old, when her world had turned upside down and left her an orphan, and when Sam wanted something, she stopped at nothing until she got it. Even if it meant coercing Georgia into telling her all her secrets.
‘But before we go, can you please just find something you like? I can’t be the only one bidding.’
Georgia nodded and steered Sam back towards the handbags, deciding that if she didn’t want jewellery, she would at least try to find a vintage designer handbag that might even go up in value as it aged.
That night, Georgia stood in front of her bathroom mirror, pressing night cream into her face and staring back at her reflection. Whenever she talked about her family, even to Sam, it brought back so many memories she’d spent a lifetime trying to forget. But as she looked at herself now, she could see her mother’s eyes staring back at her; recognised the dimple on the left side of her cheek as belonging to her father. She brushed her fingers across her cheek as she remembered him, wondering if it was a memory or simply an imprint of a photo in her mind when she tried to recall what he looked like. Usually she kept herself busy, constantly moving and working to avoid thinking about her past or her feelings about what had happened, but now that she had time to breathe, everything seemed to be resurfacing.
She wandered from the bathroom to her bedside table, crouching down and opening the drawer and reaching to the very back where she’d left the little box all that time ago. Her fingers connected with it and she took it out, closing the drawer and sitting on the bed. She tucked her legs beneath the covers and settled back against the pillows as she opened the box, her breath catching in her throat as she looked at the pink stone nestled on top of the newspaper clipping.
