CHAPTER 44
In August Farah and Alexandra made a trip to Paris to find a suitable apartment not too far from the campus and large enough for Farah, a woman to act as housekeeper-cook and a guard who would double as chauffeur.
"Do I have to have a guard following me everywhere I go? Farah asked indignantly. "If Nicky can go around the world without one surely I won't need one in Paris."
"I don't believe in taking chances," Alexandra said stiffly.
At her tone Farah looked at her sharply, then started to laugh. "You old fox," she said, "you've got someone tailing Nicky, haven't you?"
"Well, what's wrong with that? It keeps me from worrying about him. After what happened, you should be glad to have someone looking after you."
"I suppose you're right, but I feel like it's an invasion of my privacy."
They found the perfect apartment, with the master bedroom on one side and two other bedrooms on the opposite side, with separate bathrooms for each.
Farah had counted on Felice's companionship to help her cope with students half her age, but Felice was spending most of her free time with a new boyfriend she had met in one of her classes. More and more Farah came to depend on Denise, the maid, and the guard, Vincent, for companionship. They watched television, they played cards and sometimes went to the movies together. She thought Alexandra would disapprove of this if she knew, but Farah found the arrangement satisfactory, as did the other two, for they were all strangers to Paris, they were congenial, and for the present they were happy with the way things were.
Nickolai and Tanya were married late in October. Farah took leave from school and went home to be a bridesmaid at the wedding.
The ceremony was held in the cathedral where Farah and Michael were wed, and the newlyweds spent the first week of their honeymoon in the same Italian town where Farah and Michael had gone. From there they would fly to Hawaii, stopping in California on their way home for a brief visit with Tanya's parents.
Wishing she didn't have to return to school, Farah said to Alexandra, "Gram, can't I stay here with you until Nicky gets back? I feel out of place at that school, and with the fate of Zhad on your shoulders while he's away you shpouldn't be here alone."
"Nonsense," Alexandra said. "I'm just a figurehead. The Prime Minister, his cabinet and the legislative branch run things, the only once in a while ask me for token advice. Anyway, nothing earth-shaking will happen while Nicky's absent."
"I get it, you don't want me around. Have you got something going with the Prime Minister?"
Alexandra looked shocked until she realized Farah was joking, then they both giggled like school girls. "He's a nice man," Alexandra said, "but even if I was looking, he's really not my type."
"We'll have to find you a husband. There are a couple of eligible princes we could check out and maybe an earl or two." Farah grinned wickedly.
"I deserved that," Alexandra said.
"How come you never remarried? You have beauty and class and position. I bet over the years you've been wooed by many a suitable prince."
"I had no desire to remarry. I had my sons to raise."
"And now your sons are gone, your granddaughter away at school, your grandson preoccupied with a new bride, and you're not one to sit by the fire. On your birthday we'll throw a big bash and invite all your friends. No one will think it odd if we include a few eligible bachelors."
"I wouldn't even consider it, though of course it Would be better for you and Nicky if I had someone to look after me in my old age."
"Gram! It would be a privilege for me to look after you in your old age. But I'm thinking about someone to be a companion to you before you REACH old age, otherwise he wouldn't be eligible."
"Why are you suddenly so concerned about me?" The gruffness in Alexandra's voice failed to cover the emotion Farah's offer had evoked in her. "Are you trying to get me to agree to your not returning to school?"
"I never could fool you," Farah said, laughing. "All right, I'll go back if I have to."
Returning to school, Farah concentrated on her studies. If I'm going to live forever, she told herself, I'd better absorb all the knowledge I can. Oh, why did I say that, she wondered. She seldom thought about her failure to age, but the worry was there, and sometimes in the night she knew fear. Then she would tell herself her fears were groundless. On occasions when she failed to convince herself she would try to find comfort in the thought that there must be some purpose to it.
Farah's college education had been cut short by her marriage to Michael, and she welcomed this opportunity to learn. It was the social life she wished to avoid. She had found no new friends in her age bracket; most of the students were about the age of her own children.
One evening in the school library she looked up from her studies to see a man gazing at her intently from across the table. He was not a young man, but it wasn't easy to guess his age because he was lean and trim, with thick hair just beginning to grey, and an intelligent face.
To cover his embarrassment at being caught staring, he explained that he thought she looked familiar. He said this in faltering French, and on a hunch she asked him in English if he was an American.
His face brightened, he answered in English, "Yes, I am. Are you American, too?"
"My mother was American. I grew up speaking both French and English."
"Where is your home?"
"A little country you've probably never heard of -- Zhad."
"Oh, but I've heard of Zhad. That's where the massacre occured last year." His expression altered, and she knew he had recognized her. "I'm sorry," he said. "Your Princess Megan." It was not a question.
It hadn't occured to her to be on guard, but now an alarm went off in her mind. She glanced quickly across the room to where Vincent sat looking in her direction, a book in his hand, and relaxed. "And what is your name?" she asked.
He took out his wallet, extracting a business card, and handed it to her. On it was printed, "Joseph (Joe) Miller" with his address and telephone number.
"You look so scholarly," she said, "I thought perhaps you were connected with the school."
"Only as a student," he said. "I had to skip college when I was young, and now that I'm financially able to retire I'm making up for lost time."
"I think that's very admirable. What kind of business were you in?"
"Real estate. You don't need a college education to sell real estate. If you're lucky you can make good money at it."
"Is going back to school as pleasant as you anticipated?"
"Oh, yes. Except that I don't have anyone much to talk to. These young people are polite and friendly, but busy with their own concerns."
"I haven't made many friends, either," she said. "It takes time."
He said abruptly, "Do you live around here?"
"Not far."
"I live in a hotel just a few blocks away. It has an excellant restaurant."
"That's nice."
"I was wondering if you would let me take you to dinner."
Farah looked across the room and smoothed hereyebrow, a prearranged signal. Vincent closed his book and rose. As he started in their direction, Farah said, "Thank you for the invitation, but I have plans for this evening. Maybe some other time. Oh, here comes my friend now." She introduced the two men, and after a short chat left with Vincent.
"He recognized me," she said when they were out of earshot. He seemed quite nice, but then he wanted to take me to dinner. I thought that was odd on such short acquaintance."
"You did absolutely right. Did you find out anything about him?"
"He's an American. He said he sold real estate and was able to retire early, so he decided to get the college education he couldn't afford when he was young. And he gave me this card."
Taking the card, Vincent said, "I'll check him out."
"I hope he turns out to be harmless. I rather like him."
And harmless he turned out to be. Riding the boom in his home town of Houston, Texas, he emerged a multi-millionaire. A widower with one son, his reputation was spotless. Pictures accompanying the report identified him as the man he claimed to be.
"If I'd remembered something I heard about Texas, I wouldn't have panicked," Farah said.
"What was that?"
"People from Texas never meet a stranger."