At that moment, a man ran into the café where we were sitting, waving a piece of paper over his head.
‘The king has been found! The royal family were overtaken at Varennes!’ he shouted, leaping over a table in his passage through.
An excited babble broke out and several political gentlemen of Johnny’s acquaintance jumped to their feet and ran off. Johnny poured himself a fresh glass of wine and raised it to us.
‘Let’s pray this means peace. No foreign invasion. No war. And freedom for your family, Frank.’
‘Do you think so?’ asked Frank hopefully.
Marie plumped herself down on his knee and ruffled his hair. ‘Pauvre Fran?ois, I’m afraid not. We Parisians will not want the conspirators free to plot another escape.’
‘But they’re not conspirators!’ Frank protested, blushing deeply as she caressed him.
Marie shrugged. ‘Then they have nothing to fear.’
Annoyed seeing her take such liberties with my friend, I said rather more waspishly than I intended, ‘For someone who spends most of her time avoiding arrest, you seem to have strange faith in your law officers.’
Marie cast me a knowing look and cuddled up closer to Frank. ‘But I would be guilty, n’est-ce pas? Fran?ois says his family is innocent. I believe him.’ She kissed him on the cheek.
I turned my eyes away only to see Johnny looking amused by Frank’s discomfort. I glared at him, trying by the force of my gaze to remind him that it was Lizzie’s little brother that he was laughing at. Johnny winked at me.
‘Enough, mademoiselle,’ Johnny said, patting his knee. Annette was already leaning against him on the other side. ‘You have tested that young man’s modesty enough for one evening. Come sit here and behave yourself. We have work to do.’
From my point of view, the exchange did not improve matters. I now had the distraction of watching the two girls hovering round Johnny like bees to a honey pot. Cudgelling my brains into order, I tried to concentrate on our predicament. Lizzie would not thank me for wasting time fuming over a couple of flirtatious girls. Instead, I told Frank about Pedro’s arrival.
‘That’s good,’ said Frank. ‘I’ve been wondering how we can get to see my family again. They’ll obviously not let either of you in – I daren’t show my face – but I had thought that maybe Pedro could take a message for us. No one would suspect him. But how to get him into their cell – that’s the real challenge.’
The suggestion prompted me to an inspired thought. ‘Your mother.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Your mother. She’s rediscovering the power of her voice. I bet they wouldn’t be able to resist the offer of a free concert – her and Pedro: an unbeatable bill. It’s almost worth being arrested to hear it.’
‘That’s not bad, Catkin,’ commented Johnny, brushing a strand of Marie’s hair off his face. I bit my tongue. I only wished he had his hands more worthily employed.
Now there’s an idea.
‘If Marie’s right about the Parisian people wanting to keep the conspirators locked up,’ I said, ‘we’ve got to do something to make the public feel differently about the Avons.’
‘I know, Cat. It’ll be too easy for the authorities to blame it all on foreigners,’ agreed Johnny.
‘Well then, what do you think about Captain Sparkler coming out of retirement and beginning a new campaign on behalf of the Duke of Avon: the English peer who had the good taste to marry one of the people; the innocent swept up in the scandal around the king’s flight?’
Johnny leaned forward quickly, dislodging Marie from his knee. He apologized and helped her on to the seat next to him. I hid a smile.
‘You know, that’s a brilliant idea!’ he said eagerly. He turned to his admirers. ‘Mesdemoiselles, do you know a good printer of political cartoons in Paris?’
Annette giggled. ‘Of course, Monsieur Johnny.’
‘Where?’
‘Here. You’re surrounded by them. They’re at liberty to print whatever they like in the Palais Royal.’
Johnny kissed her hand. ‘Thank you, mademoiselle. I am indebted to you.’
What about me? It was my idea, I thought grumpily.
Johnny got to his feet. ‘Let’s go, Cat. No time like the present. I’ll escort you home and get drawing.’
Giving me only time for the briefest of farewells to Frank, Johnny dragged me off in the direction of the Opera quarter.
‘You can’t wait to sharpen your pencils, can you?’ I asked.
‘Indeed I can’t. It’s been too long since I picked up my drawing things for a cause I believe in.’
I could see he was already planning the cartoon in his head. In this mood I was forgotten, so I had plenty of time to contemplate my foolish jealousy as I trotted to keep up. Marie and Annette were harmless – I knew that – so why did I feel so envious seeing them treating my friends in their free, affectionate manner? I knew my feelings for Johnny coloured my reaction to anything that concerned him, but Frank? What was that about?
Then the truth hit me, bringing me to a standstill as I saw myself for what I really was. The last few weeks seemed to have stripped me down to my essentials, revealing some unpleasant truths. I was afraid, mortally afraid, of being usurped. If other girls became special to Johnny and Frank, where did that leave me? Without my friends, as I had discovered since losing Drury Lane, I really had not a thing in my life that meant anything: no family, no home, no roots.
Johnny noticed I was no longer following and came back to fetch me. ‘Are you all right, Cat?’ he asked.
‘Of course.’ I gave him a false smile.
Johnny wasn’t fooled. ‘No, you’re not. Something’s up. You’re jealous, aren’t you?’
I coloured. What I felt was nothing as simple as jealousy. He wouldn’t understand how vulnerable I was feeling just at the moment.
‘Don’t be silly; I’m not jealous.’
‘Of course you are. I saw your face when Marie flirted with Frank. It’s nothing to be ashamed of – I can think of many worse people for you to be sweet on.’