‘Now tell us more about your travels, Blake,’ Benoit said, once they were all settled and had raised their glasses in a toast. ‘Henri has told us that you’re searching for your great-grandmother?’
‘Yes,’ she said with a nod. ‘I am. Although to be honest, I’ve not been able to find out much about her, and I’ve turned my journey into a series of articles, so the lack of new information is becoming rather stressful.’
‘You know Henri sent me the design?’ Céline asked. ‘So that I could make some enquiries?’
‘He did,’ Blake replied. ‘And I’m sorry if that was an imposition or?—’
Céline held up her hand and Blake stopped talking. ‘It wasn’t an imposition at all, I honestly enjoyed the challenge. It’s not often that I have the ability to find things out that my son can’t.’
‘You discovered something?’ Henri asked.
‘I did,’ Céline said, rising and collecting something from the table.
On closer inspection, Blake could see that it was a file, and Céline opened it and passed it to her. Henri leaned closer as she inspected it.
‘I had my assistant search the archives atVogueParis, as they’ve recently been digitised, and along with asking some of my older contacts to take a look, we were able to find a name.’
Blake slowly looked up, meeting Céline’s gaze. ‘You have a name, for my great-grandmother?’
‘I have a name for the designer who signed your sketch,’ Céline corrected. ‘I couldn’t find out anything about her personal life, but the designer you’re searching for is Evelina Lavigne.’
Evelina. Blake couldn’t believe it. Her heart started to pound at just having a name, knowing that she finally knewsomethingabout the past after all this time.
‘And the article you’re holding is from a copy ofVogue Parisin the late 1930s. It seems that she was quite well-known at the time.’
Blake ran her eyes over the article, hardly able to believe what she was reading.Evelina Lavigne, the designer making women feel as if they’re worth a fortune.
She could barely focus on the words. All she could think about was the name, that she finally had a name for the woman she presumed was her great-grandmother. There was even a photo, and she squinted to see it properly, trying to make out the grainy face staring back at her. She immediately felt as if the woman’s eyes were familiar, the way they were looking at her, but she shook her head, certain it was her own eyes playing tricks on her. In her heart, though, she was convinced she could see a resemblance to her grandmother.
‘Thank you,’ she said, looking from Céline to Henri. ‘I can’t even begin to tell you how much this means to me.’
‘Well, I became rather interested in the mystery of it all, and I have to confess that I did find your first two articles when Iwas searching,’ Céline said. ‘I’m honoured to be helping, in even a small way.’
‘This is the only solid lead I’ve had, other than being told to come to Paris and meet Henri, so it is no small thing. Thank you, so much.’
‘Did you discover anything else?’ Henri asked.
‘I was able to find that the clothes were stocked exclusively at Les Galeries Renaud, which is our oldest department store in Paris, and owned by the Renaud family. I doubt they would be able to assist in providing more information, since it was such a long time ago. The Renaud family were known for acquiring luxury brands, and did very well when the company was under the control of Antoine Renaud, although he died many years ago now.’
‘I actually interviewed his family as part of my exhibition. I don’t think the company is what it used to be with Antoine at the helm—he truly was the heart and soul of their business interests.’
‘Thank you,’ Blake said. ‘This is all just so much food for thought.’
Everyone went quiet then, as Blake brought her attention back to the article, wanting to absorb every detail. When she was done, she raised her eyes again to find Céline smiling warmly.
‘It’s been a very long time since Henri brought a friend home,’ Céline said. ‘So when he asked for my help, I wasn’t going to say no. I only wish I had more to share.’
Blake understood that Céline thought she might be disappointed, but it couldn’t have been further from the truth—she was thrilled to have discovered so much in one day. She was about to say so when Henri touched her hand, indicating the magazine clipping she was holding.
‘This says that Evelina was originally from the village of Provins,’ he said. ‘Perhaps that is your next clue.’
‘Perhaps,’ she agreed, taking the clipping and beginning to read it properly, feeling emotional at even hearing her great-grandmother’s name spoken aloud in conversation. She hadn’t realised how much it would mean to her, uncovering just a snippet of information. ‘Is that far from here?’
‘It’s close to Paris,’ Benoit said. ‘You could always visit on your way back to the city?’
Blake glanced at Henri. ‘No, I wouldn’t expect Henri to come with me, but?—’
‘I would love to come with you,’ he said, grinning and pulling her closer to him. ‘But for now, we need to drink more champagne.’
