The Strange Journey of Alice Pendelbury

After taking tea, she retired to her room, where she opened the wardrobe and stretched out on the bed to admire the gown a second time.

A torrential rain began to pelt down outside. and she went to the window to look. The Bosporus had cloaked itself in a gray mist, and the ferries blew their foghorns as they chugged back and forth across the strait. In the street below, the people of Istanbul hurried to take refuge under streetcar shelters and awnings, while umbrellas tangled and butted against one another on the crowded pavement. Alice knew she was still part of the churning city that passed beneath the window, but for tonight, from behind the walls of her luxurious hotel and in the company of the beautiful gown, she felt as though she had been transported to another world altogether. She knew it was a privileged, ephemeral place. She would rub shoulders with its inhabitants for just one evening, and her ignorance of its customs made her all the more impatient to dive in and discover them.



Alice had called for the maid to come and zip her up. Hat in place, she left her room. When Daldry looked up and saw her in the elevator descending toward the lobby, his delight was even greater than he had anticipated. He offered his arm.

“Normally, I hate making formal compliments, but tonight I’m willing to break a rule. You look—”

“Très ‘New Look,’ don’t you think?”

“That’s one way of putting it. A car is waiting for us outside. We’re in luck; the rain seems to have stopped.”

They arrived just two minutes later because the consulate gate was more or less across the avenue from the hotel.

“I know the taxi was ridiculous, but you can’t just walk up to this kind of place,” he explained.

He went around the car to let Alice out but found that a valet had beaten him to it. As they walked up the grand steps, Alice was worried she might trip and stumble in her high heels. Daldry handed the invitations to the doorman, left his coat in the cloakroom, and accompanied Alice into the large reception hall that had been converted into a ballroom.

As they entered, many of the male guests turned to look. Some of them even halted their conversations. The women carefully inspected Alice from head to toe. The combination of her sleek hair, jacket, dress, and shoes made her seem the very image of modernity. The ambassador’s wife smiled warmly, and Daldry went over to introduce himself.

He bowed, kissed her hand, and presented Alice, according to the protocol he had carefully studied in preparation for their evening. The ambassador’s wife asked them what brought them so far from home.

“Perfume, Your Excellency,” said Daldry. “Alice is one of England’s most talented noses. Her creations are found in the best shops in Kensington.”

“How fascinating,” exclaimed the ambassador’s wife. “I’ll be sure to look for them when we’ve returned to London.”

Daldry insisted she allow him to have some of Alice’s perfumes sent directly.

“What an inspiration you are,” she said, turning to Alice. “A professional and innovative woman with the courage to work in a business dominated by men. If you stay in Turkey long enough, you must come and visit us in Ankara.” She added in a stage whisper, “I’m bored to death there.” She blushed at her own unexpected honesty. “I would have liked to introduce you to my husband, but he’s deep in conversation and I fear it may drag on. I’m pleased to have made your acquaintance.”

The ambassador’s wife slipped into the crowd to greet other guests, but everybody had noticed the attention she had given Alice, who now felt as though everybody was staring at her even more than when she had entered. It made her uncomfortable.

“I can’t believe I let her go,” said Daldry. “We were almost there. I should have kept talking to her.”

Alice watched the ambassador’s wife chatting with a group of guests. She left Daldry’s side and crossed the room, doing her best to adopt a confident stride in the unfamiliar shoes.

She joined the circle that had surrounded the ambassadress and interrupted the conversation.

“I’m sorry, madam, I know it’s unorthodox, but I absolutely must speak with you in private, just for a moment.”

Daldry was dumbstruck to see Alice behaving so boldly.

“She is something else, is she not?” whispered Can.

Daldry jumped.

“Goodness, you startled me. I didn’t even see you there.”

“I know. I do this on purpose. So, are you satisfied with your good guide? The reception is of great exception, don’t you think?”

“This sort of party bores me to tears, actually.”

“Because you are not interested in other people,” observed Can.

“I hired you as tour guide, not a spiritual guide.”

“Must not a guide have a spirit?”

“Don’t taunt me. I promised Alice I wouldn’t drink tonight.”

Can took the hint and disappeared as discreetly as he had arrived.

Daldry planted himself near the buffet, in a spot that was close enough to where Alice and the ambassador’s wife were standing for him to catch the gist of their conversation.

“I’m terribly sorry to hear that you lost your parents in the war . . . Of course I understand your desire to know more about their origins . . . I’ll call the consular services first thing in the morning and ask that they go through the files for you . . . When exactly do you think they might have come to Istanbul?”

“I don’t really know, but probably before I was born. My parents didn’t have anybody they could leave me with, apart from my aunt perhaps, but she would have told me about it if they had done so. I suppose they might have gone on a sort of honeymoon in 1909 or 1910. After that, Mother wouldn’t have been in a condition to travel.”

“I can’t imagine that the research will be very complicated—that is, unless the fall of the Ottoman Empire and two World Wars have caused the papers to go missing. You know, my mother always said, ‘When you already have a no, my girl, you might as well try getting a yes.’ Let’s be efficient and bother the consul about it now. I’ll introduce you, and in exchange you must give me the name of your dressmaker.”

“I think the label said Christian Dior, madam.”

The ambassador’s wife made a note to remember the name and took Alice by the hand to present her to the consul. She explained Alice’s request, adding that it was a special favor for her new friend. The consul promised to receive Alice at the end of the afternoon the following day.

“Very well,” said the ambassador’s wife. “Now that you’re in capable hands, I’m afraid I must return to my guests.”

Alice bowed in thanks and left the ambassadress to her socializing.

“So?” asked Daldry, coming over to Alice.

“We have a meeting with the consul tomorrow at teatime.”

“It’s rather discouraging to see you succeed where I fail, but I suppose it’s the results that count. Are you happy?”

“Yes, very. I still don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done.”

“You might begin by lifting your ban and allowing me to have a drink. Just one, I promise.”

“I have your word?”

“My gentleman’s honor,” said Daldry, already on his way to the bar.

He came back with a glass of champagne, which he handed to Alice, and a tumbler filled with whisky.

“You call that one drink?” asked Alice.

“Do you see a second?”

The orchestra started playing a waltz, and Alice’s eyes instantly lit up. She left her glass on the tray of a passing waiter and turned to Daldry.

“Would you dance with me? You can hardly refuse when I’m wearing a gown like this.”

“It’s just that . . .” Daldry glanced wistfully at his glass.

“Me or the whisky. Make up your mind.”

Daldry sighed, put down his drink, and led Alice out onto the dance floor.

“You dance well,” she observed after a moment.

“My mother taught me. She loved dancing, but my father didn’t, so I was her partner.”

“Well, she was an excellent teacher.”

“I think that may be the first time you’ve given me a compliment.”