‘Come to America, Cat. You’d like it there,’ urged Johnny.
I paused. Could I really go? I’d said it a few times but could I bear to watch him and Lizzie starting their married life together? I loved them both: wouldn’t it sour all that if I tagged along, an unwanted third in their nest?
‘Well?’
‘If I go to America, it’ll be because I want to, not because Billy Shepherd has driven me away.’ The words surprised me but as I said them I knew I meant it. ‘I’ll get the better of him, just you wait and see.’
Johnny refrained from commenting. We had more immediate problems to worry about than Shepherd but we would return to the subject later, I had no doubt.
The coach clattered to a halt. Johnny poked his head out of the window.
‘Here we are. Now let’s see if I can talk our way in. I suggest you remain silent.’ He’d clearly forgotten what I was like if he thought I was going to leave so important a matter to him. ‘I’ll tell them you’re my sister if anyone asks.’
I looked up at the building looming in front of us. It was nothing like I expected: this wasn’t a prison, it was a palace – many storeys high with a steeply pitched roof outlined against the night sky and two towers facing the river. Faint lights glimmered in the windows. Only the heavily armed guards and frequent patrols across the forecourt signalled the building’s more sinister use.
‘Do you think you can get us in?’ I asked. The Conciergerie gave me the creeps – all that fine stonework used to imprison people. I preferred my gaols to declare their purpose straight out, show themselves to be brutal and ugly, like Newgate.
Johnny scratched his chin thoughtfully. If he had been a cracksman, I’d swear he was looking for a way to break into the place. ‘Well, I have a vague diplomatic status as I’m attached to the American delegation. They might let us in on the strength of that.’
I’d forgotten how innocent he was to the ways of the world.
‘Don’t be daft, Johnny. Haven’t you learnt anything yet? Papers will help to get you in the front door, but you’ll have to bribe them.’
He patted his pocket. ‘I’ve come prepared.’
‘But it seems to me that we also need a good story.’ I thought for a moment. ‘Look, why don’t you tell them that I’m a friend of Lizzie – that I’ve been badgering you witless all day to bring me here so I can see for myself that she is all right.’ I tapped the basket of food we had brought with us. ‘I insisted on bringing her something to eat as she’s only just recovered from . . . from the flu. Tell them she’s delicate – they don’t want their star prisoners to fall ill on them, do they?’
Johnny nodded to show he’d got all that and offered me his arm.
‘I’ll play it young and innocent,’ I whispered, continuing with my stage directions. ‘Don’t forget, we must look as if we think we have every right to be here – don’t let them see our doubt.’
We approached the sentry on duty.
‘Yes, monsieur?’ the guard said coldly.
‘We would like to see the prison governor, if it is not too much trouble,’ said Johnny politely.
The man frowned. ‘He’s busy.’
I trod on Johnny’s toe. ‘Demand,’ I hissed.
Johnny cleared his throat. ‘Not too busy to see me, I’m sure. I demand to see him.’ He thrust his papers at the guard – a good move for I doubted the man could read.
The guard’s expression changed as he saw the official seals at the bottom. ‘Follow me,’ he grunted.
We crossed the courtyard and were shown into a dimly lit office. A corpulent man was sitting at the desk with his feet up, chin on his chest as he snoozed. Busy indeed!
‘Monsieur le Concierge!’ barked the guard in a voice designed to carry across a parade ground.
The governor sat up with a jerk, dislodging a stack of papers so that they crashed to the floor.
‘Monsieur,’ said Johnny, bowing.
‘Sacré bleu?,’ asked the governor, his chubby face flushed. He stood up and straightened his rumpled uniform.
‘I apologize for disturbing you. I will not keep you long. I’m with the American delegation to Paris.’ Johnny presented his papers with a flourish.
‘I don’t care if you’re with the Archbishop of Paris. What are you doing here?’
The governor’s eyes slid to me. I curtseyed and then smiled what I hope was my most charming smile, hiding behind Johnny as if shy. I tugged his jacket, like a child trying to get her parent’s attention. My friend leant over and I whispered in his ear. Johnny stood up straight.
‘Sorry about that, monsieur. My sister here was just asking me if you were a general. She said she’d never seen so impressive a man before.’
The governor smiled despite himself.
‘No, no, I’m not a general, mademoiselle. Just a humble steward – the Concierge of the Conciergerie.’ He came round the table and handed me into a chair. ‘Now, what was I asking? Oh yes, would you please state your business?’
‘It concerns a prisoner who was brought here today,’ said Johnny.
The governor stiffened.
‘Are you a family man, sir?’ Johnny asked quickly. ‘Maybe you have daughters? If you do, you’ll know what loyal friends little girls are to each other. My sister here is a close companion of the English girl who was brought here this morning. She gave me no rest until we came here to see that Lady Elizabeth was well looked after.’
‘But meeting you, sir, I’m sure she must be,’ I lisped, looking up at the man with wide, trusting eyes.
‘According to my sister, her friend has been ill and Catherine fears she’ll have a relapse without proper food and warm clothes. We took the liberty of packing a basket and wondered if we could be granted a few moments to take it to her.’
I presented the basket with another curtsey (thank goodness for my ballet lessons – at least now I could pretend to be elegant), lifting the cloth to show its contents.’