CHAPTER 5
Within a few days, when Donna's strength had returned, Jason took her shopping for a new wardrobe. He chose a little shop in Beverly Hills, and with an air of authority explained to the young lady who greeted them that his ward had been living abroad and needed help in choosing an American-style wardrobe.
The salesgirl appeared delighted at this opportunity to dress so attractive a client, but it was Jason who seemed to have an instinct for the right selection. Donna supposed that having been reared in an upper-class family with sisters had ingrained in him an appreciation of what was appropriate as well as lovely.
The shopping completed, Jason took her to lunch. Beverly Hills restaurants were new territory for Donna, and her pleasure at being there was obvious.
As they were getting ready to leave, a middle-aged woman with platinum hair and a look of being at home in her fashionable clothes swooped down on them. "Jason," she cried, "I thought you had crawled off in a hole somewhere. How nice to see you."
Jason rose to greet her. "Hello, Monica. You're looking good." He indicated Donna. "You remember Farah Somersby? She was Louise's ward, you know. I think you met her in Paris."
"Of course." She sized Donna up critically. "You've grown into a stunning young lady, Farah. I must have a party for you."
"How nice of you, Mrs. ...?"
"Monica Crane. Jason was never very good at the amenities."
Jason picked up the check. "I'm sorry we can't stay and talk, Monica, but we were just leaving. Nice seeing you."
Monica wasn't listening. A small frown appeared on her face. "I'm a little confused, Jason. I thought Farah had ... that something had happened ..."
"Oh, you mean the report of Farah's death," said Jason without hesitation. "I'm glad to say it was greatly exaggerated."
"But why ...?"
"You remember her parents were both killed in a plane crash. At the time the authorities thought it was sabotage. An assassination attempt. They checked it out and decided they were wrong. Two years ago when Louise and Farah were touring the Mideast, Farah was struck by a hit-and-run driver. She escaped serious injury, but the security people thought her life was in danger. They whisked her away and gave out the report that she had been killed."
How dreadful for you, dear," Monica said to Donna. Her eyes shone with excitement. "It's just like a spy story, isn't it?"
Jason regarded her evenly. "Monica, you must promise not to reveal a word of this to anyone. Nobody thinks Farah's life is in danger any more, but we don't want to take chances, do we?"
"Oh, I'll never tell. Cross my heart."
"I knew I could count on you." He kissed her cheek, and with a "See you again soon," gathered up Donna and packages and marched with firm step out of the restaurant.
Donna trotted along beside him, giggling. "You've missed your calling, Jason," she said between giggles.
"Think so? I didn't even stop to consider. That malarky just rolled off my tongue as if I had rehearsed it." He looked immensely pleased with himself.
"Have you been rehearsing it, Jason?" A little feeling of unease stirred just outside her consciousness.
Jason shook his head. "You give me too much credit. I'm not that organized."
She felt vaguely relieved. "You think she'll keep her promise not to tell?"
"Probably. She's got good stuff in her, in spite of her flighty ways. Most of which I have always believed were assumed."
"Is it important?"
"Not really. The important thing is that she accepted you as Farah."
"She did, didn't she? That took me by surprise. You took me by surprise."
"It's really not surprising she accepted you so easily. You have the same coloring and general appearance as Farah, and a young girl can change a lot in two years. Still, it's reassuring that you passed the first test with flying colors."
If it ever becomes an issue, couldn't it be proved that the real Farah did die? I never thought about it before, somebody questioning my identity as Farah, I mean."
"That's the beauty of that story I told Monica. Things like that really do happen."
"But if it came to a showdown ...?"
"Farah was killed in a country in turmoil. I'm not sure what kind of records are kept there but their government is chaotic. The French police have no file on it. The FBI or CIA or whatever never admits to any knowledge of anything. They probably don't keep records on all their undercover deals. Revealing information of that kind could lead to an international incident. Or so they believe. The methods of diplomacy are often dark and devious."
"Then I won't worry about it," said Donna.
And to both of them it was as if her identity as far as Farah had been established. Jason continued to call her Farah, and Donna, when she remembered to do so, tried to think of herself as Farah. Getting used to a new name was much easier, she found, than getting used to looking like a stranger to herself.