‘Why didn’t I know about this?’ she demanded.
‘No one asked.’
‘Well, you’d better hope you’re as good as you think you are. Come along, I’ll go with you in case there’s a complaint. You will end up looking for another job if there’s any problem.’
Chapter 20
Nathalie
Of course, there was no complaint about my work. In fact, Kranz was most complimentary and I could see Madame Bochette’s demeanour change from apprehension, to surprise and then to satisfaction and, dare I suggest, pride. One of her staff had made a perfect repair.
Just as I thought the meeting was over, there was a knock at Kranz’s door and, without waiting for him to answer, the visitor entered. I did a double take and somehow managed to withhold my gasp of surprise.
Coco Chanel waltzed in, and that is the only way I could describe it, straight into Kranz’s apartment. She paused to offer her hand, which Kranz took to his lips, bowing as he did so.
Madame Bochette made a small squeaking sort of sound in the back of her throat before regaining her composure and going into full deference mode. I thought for one moment she was actually going to curtsey.
Chanel looked over at us. ‘Ah, so this is the little seamstress you’ve been keeping all to yourself.’ She looked me up and down as if eyeing a garment she had been offered to inspect. Her dark hair was fashioned off her face, exposing her fine and chiselled features. I wasn’t sure if she was beautiful or handsome, but she exuded an elegance and determination that sat comfortably alongside each other. ‘Your name?’
I realised she was addressing me. I cleared my throat. ‘Nathalie Leroux.’
Chanel took a cigarette from the silver case on the table and Kranz hurried forward with a lighter, holding it close to the tip. Chanel’s red lips drew on the cigarette before she spoke to me again. ‘And where did you learn to sew like that?’
‘Her father is a tailor,’ supplied Madame Bochette.
Chanel didn’t take her gaze from me as she replied to the head housekeeper. ‘I was asking the child.’
I wasn’t sure I cared for being referred to as a child but was aware I looked younger than my years. I could feel Madame Bochette’s embarrassment as she muttered an apology.
I filled the awkward space with a reply. ‘My father had a tailor’s shop in the city. He taught me everything I know.’
‘Who is your father?’
‘Théodule Leroux.’
Chanel glanced over at Kranz, who replied to the unspoken communication. ‘Leroux is well known among the officers of the Luftwaffe. We frequented the shop often when it was open. It has recently closed.’
I didn’t reply, unsure where this conversation was going. Chanel sat down on the brocade sofa and took another draw on her cigarette, before exhaling the smoke into the air. ‘So, Madame Bochette, how long has the child been working here?’
‘She’s new, madame,’ replied Bochette. ‘Been here just a few weeks.’
‘And is she a good worker?’
I felt uncomfortable at this dissection while I was standing there.
‘She does what she’s supposed to do. Doesn’t give me any trouble, and the guests like her,’ replied Bochette.
Chanel appeared to be weighing up this information. ‘Very well. I want her to attend my room from now on.’
‘But I have other staff,’ replied Bochette. ‘More experienced. If you’re not happy with Sophie, your current room maid, I can arrange for someone else.’
‘No. I want …’ she waved her hand in my direction ‘… Nathalie,’ she said, as if finally remembering my name. ‘I want her to attend my room.’
‘Very well, madame,’ said Bochette with a nod of her head. She shot me a sideways look, which clearly said she wasn’t happy about this and I’d better not let her down. I also knew that without a shadow of a doubt, I’d be out of a job if anything went wrong.
‘It’s an honour, and I’d be delighted to. Thank you, madame,’ I replied and dipped my head in the way I’d seen Bochette do.
‘Come to my room at 7 a.m. sharp. I hate lateness,’ said Chanel.
