Abel then spent six months in his favourite Baron in Paris, roaming the streets by day, and attending the opera at night, hoping it might revive happy memories of Florentyna.

He eventually left Paris and returned to America, after his long exile.

As he descended the metal steps of an Air France 707 at Kennedy International Airport, his back hunched and his bald head covered with a black hat, nobody recognised him. George was there to greet him, loyal, honest George, looking quite a bit older. On the ride to the New York Baron, George, as always, brought him up to date on group news. The profits, it seemed, were even higher as his keen young executives thrust forward in every major country in the world. Seventy - two hotels run by twenty - two thousand staff. Abel didn't seem to be listening. He only wanted news of Florentyna.

'She's well,' said George, 'and coming to New York early next year.'

'Why?' said Abel, suddenly excited.

'She's opening one of her shops on Fifth Avenue!

Tifth Avenue?'

'The eleventh Florentyna,' said George, 'Have you seen her?'

Tes,' he admitted.

'Is she well, is she happy?" 'Both of them are very well and happy, and so successful. Abel, you should be very proud of them. Your grandson is quite a boy, and your granddaughter's beautiful. The image of Florentyna when she was that age.'

'Will she see me?' said Abel.

'Will you see her husband?'

'No, George. I can never meet that boy, not while his father is still alive.'

'What if you die first?'

'You mustn't believe everything you read in the Bible!

Abel and George drove in silence back to the hotel, and Abel dined alone in his room that night.

For the next six months, he never left the penthouse.

,948 When Florentyna Kane opened her new boutique on Fifth Avenue in March 1967, everyone in New York seemed to be there, except William Kane and Abel Rosnovski.

K. ate and Lucy had left William in bed muttering to hims,ef while they went off to the opening of 'Florentyna!s'.

George left Abel alone in his suite so that he could attend the celebrations. He had tried to talk Abel into going along with him. Abel grunted that his daughter had opened ten shops without him, and one more wouldn't make any difference. George told him he was a stubborn old fool and left for Fifth Avenue on his own. When he arrived at the shop, a magnificent modem boutique with thick carpets and the latest Swedish furniture - it reminded him of the way Abel used to do things - he found Florentyna, wearing a long blue gown with the now famous F on the high collar. She gave George a glass of champagne and introduced him to Kate and Lucy Kane who were chatting with Zaphia. Kate and Lucy were clearly happy and they surprised George by enquiring after Abel Rosnovski.

'I told him he was a stubborn old fool to miss such a good party. Is Mr.

Kane here?'he asked.

41

George was delighted by Kate Kane's happy reply.

William was still muttering angrily at the New York Times, something about Johnson's pulling his punches in Vietnam, when he folded the newspaper and got himself out of bed. He started to dress slowly, staring at himself in the mirror when he had finished. He loAed like a banker. He scowled. How else should he look? He put on a heavy black overcoat and his old Homburg hat, picked up his black walking stick with the silver handle, the one Rupert Cork - Smith had left him, and somehow got himself out on to the street. The first time he had been out on his own, he thought, for the best part of three years, since that last serious heart attack. The maid was surprised to see him leaving the house unaccompanied.

It was an unusually warm spring evening, but William felt the cold after being in the house so long. It took him a considerable time to reach Fifth Avenue and Fifty - sixth Street, and when he eventually did arrive, the crowd was so large outside Florentyna's that he felt he didn't have the strength to fight his way through it. He stood at the kerb, watching.

the people enjoying themselves. Young people, happy and excited, thrusting their way into Florentyna~s beautiful shop. Some of the girls were wearing the new mini skirts from London. What next? thought William, and then he saw his son talking tot Kate. He had grown into such a fine looking man - taU, confident, and relaxed, he had an air of authority about him that reminded William of his own father. But in the bustle and continual movement, he couldn't quite work out which one was Florentyna.

He stood there for nearly an hour enjoying the comings and goings, regretting the stubborn years he had thrown away.

The wind was beginning to nace down Fifth Avenue. He'd forgotten how cold that March wind could be. He turned his collar up. He must get home, because they were all coming to dinner that night, and he was going to meet Florentyna and the grandchildren for the first time. His grandson and little Annabel and their father, his beloved son. He had told Kate what a fool he'd been and begged her forgiveness. All he remembered her saying was 'I'll always love you.' Florentyna had written to him. Such a generous letter. She had been so understanding and kind about the past.