“We weren’t the ones who blurted out the truth,” snapped Helena.

“At least I was sober enough to know what I was saying!” Nina declared. “They would have found out in any event. After Reggie there let the cat out of the bag, I just decided it was time to be straight with them about Bernard and Madeline.”

“And look at the result,” moaned Helena. “Hugh says Beryl and Jordan are flying to Paris this afternoon. Now they’ll be mucking around in things.”

Nina shrugged. “Well, it was a long time ago.”

“I don’t see why you’re so nonchalant. If anyone could be hurt, it’s you,” muttered Helena.

Nina frowned at her. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“No, really! What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing,” Helena snapped.

Their conversation came to an abrupt halt. But Anthony could tell his mother was fuming. She sat with her hands balled up in her lap. She even ordered a second martini. When she rose from her seat and headed down the aisle for a bit of exercise, he followed her. They met at the rear of the plane.

“Are you all right, Mother?” he asked.

Nina glanced in agitation toward first class. “It’s all Reggie’s bloody fault,” she whispered. “And Helena ’s right, you know. I am the one who could be hurt.”

“After all these years?”

“They’ll be asking questions again. Digging. Lord, what if those Tavistock brats find something?”

Anthony said quietly, “They won’t.”

Nina’s gaze met his. In that one look they saw, in each other’s eyes, the bond of twenty years. “You and me against the world,” she used to sing to him. And that’s how it had felt-just the two of them in their Paris flat. There’d been her lovers, of course, insignificant men, scarcely worth noting. But mother and son-what love could be stronger?

He said, “You’ve nothing to worry about, darling. Really.”

“But the Tavistocks-”