Ilil Arbel: Madame Koska and the Imperial Brooch

“It is,” said Madame Golitsyn. “Le Cochon did a good job, teaching you.”

Madame Koska laughed. “Good old Grigory… poor man, probably died fighting in the war, and we always call him Le Cochon… I do wish I could remember the name he had on his real passport. It’s ridiculous to forget your own husband’s real, though secret name.”

“Well, you only saw it once,” said Madame Golitsyn. “And it’s not terribly important, though technically, I am not sure if you were legally married, if he gave the wrong name… But more important, about Mr. Korolenko, he turned out to be a good teacher? You like him?”

“He is a splendid teacher, but as for liking him… I am not sure. To tell you the truth, I am a little uncomfortable with what he said about his students. I believe he has some unsavory characters among them.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” said Madame Golitsyn. “But you should not be concerned about it. No one knows you are studying with him and I can’t think of a more discreet teacher.”

“Oh, certainly,” said Madame Koska, putting a cigarette into a long ebony holder and lighting it. “Goodness, I only have the black cigarette holder with me… with this suit I should have the ivory or amber. Ah, well. Professionally, Mr. Korolenko is excellent, and I am certain he would never gossip about me, which is what counts the most at the moment.”

“Exactly,” said Madame Golitsyn, and took another pastry.

Madame Koska tapped the cigarette ash into the onyx ashtray, and said thoughtfully, “What I don’t like, or even understand, is Natalya’s assumption that the police officer suspected her.”

“Natalya is afraid of any authorities, probably a reaction to the Revolution,” said Madame Golitsyn. “But let’s face it, if I were the police officer I would have some suspicion regarding her activities that night. Of course she is my niece and for us the notion is simply ridiculous, but the police do not care about that. She had the key for the entire afternoon; she did not go straight home, so it does not look good.”

“I hope you did not tell her that, Annushka,” said Madame Koska. “If she is going to be incapacitated by her fears, I am in big trouble… she is really my chief embroiderer and if I am to get on with planning the collection I simply can’t do without her.”

“Of course I did not tell her; on the contrary, I tried to make her forget the whole sordid business. How are you getting on with the collection?”

“As you know I bought all the materials, but a few days ago I also ordered the extra beads and pearls and some wonderful new style combination beads. What I really need to do now is find the proper place for the show. Everywhere I visited up to now was so unattractive—too dark, too old-fashioned. I want a big, light, airy place that would showcase the delicacy of the colors for the Mistral collection.”

“Do you need to get it so early? It’s going to be months before the show is put on, isn’t it?”

“These places need to be rented a long way in advance, if you want a good one. Have you done with your tea?”

“Yes, I could not eat another bite,” said Madame Golitsyn. “I ate too much, as usual. They do make excellent pastries here.”

“Not as good as yours,” said Madame Koska, “but then, who can surpass your artistry with pastries?” She put on her gloves carefully, switching the rings from her hand to the top of the gloves. “Well, Anna, since we are ready, let’s go before they close.”

“Close? Where are we going, Vera?”

“To my favorite hat shop, where I am going to treat you to a new cloche hat. It’s going to be your Christmas gift, only a little early; you need it now.”

“You are incorrigible, Vera,” Madame Golitsyn laughed. “Very well, thank you, dorogaya . Let’s go.”

“Miss Van derHoven, did the beads arrive?” asked Madame Koska as she walked in.

“Yes, Madame Koska, they are here, they are heavenly! Everyone is enchanted with them… the girls are sorting them out, as you requested.”

“I vill go and look,” said Madame Koska, and entered the sewing room. On a large side table, the new selection of beads gleamed under the sunlight. “Vell, ladies, vhat do you think?” she said.

“They are magnificent,” said Natalya, so lost in admiration that she forgot herself enough to speak without blushing or trembling. “Madame Koska, I have rarely seen such pearls, even in the Tsarina’s work basket. They are almost entirely round! No imperfections to hide when I embroider with them! And the combination beads, I have never seen the like!”

“Yes, they look like ready-made jewelry, don’t they? I thought they vould save time, since you can use them as centerpieces directly, vithout much construction. And the colors were perfect. Just look at the blue and purple, they look just like real gemstones.”

“Oh, yes, they will save hours of work, and they are so big and impressive! But I just can’t get my hands off these pearls… so smooth. I think we should put them in boxes lined in velvet, Madame Koska, to save them from scratching.”

“Yes, excellent idea. Ladies, help Miss Saltykov to cut bits of velvet to line the boxes vith. Let’s organize everything so they vill be easily accessible vhen ve start embroidering for the collection.” The seamstresses gathered some bits and pieces of soft materials and set to line the containers intended for sorting the beads by shape and color.

“These silver bugle beads are perfect with the Mistral colors,” said Gretchen, who came to take another peek. “Oh, and these look like tiny diamonds and rubies. How they sparkle! May I help? There is so much work to sort them. I’ll run to the front room as soon as the telephone rings.”

“Certainly,” said Madame Koska. “But put on a smock, Miss Van der Hoven. You don’t vant your dress to get covered with bits of thread.”

Gretchen ran off to get a smock, and Natalya said, “Madame Koska, I have an idea. I wonder if you will think it a good thing…”

“Vell, tell me, Miss Saltykov,’ said Madame Koska. “I like innovative ideas.”

“You know the seamstresses are so kind as to think that I embroider a little better than they do, and said that they would like a few lessons,” said Natalya. “So I thought it would be a good idea to teach them, it will be helpful if the atelier becomes famous for its embroidery… and now that I am looking at these lovely beads, I thought that with your permission, I could teach them the way I was taught, from instructional samplers.”

“This is a vonderful idea, Miss Saltykov. Could you prepare the samplers?”

“Yes, but I thought… I didn’t want to take time from working on the atelier’s dresses since we have so many orders. Maybe I could come early in the morning and put in an hour or two until I finish them? Or stay after hours?”

“Von’t you be terribly tired, my dear? Ve vill have to put in many hours vhen the show comes closer. I don’t vant you to exhaust yourself.”

“No, not at all,” said Natalya. “This type of sampler embroidery is like a game, a hobby. I will enjoy the work, it will remind me of my childhood. Let’s see… I think I should make one with the arabesques you so kindly liked when I did it, on chiffon. Another one I can prepare with strictly traditional Russian pearl embroidery, couched with a gold thread on stiff velvet, and a third with perhaps the sequins and pearls together, and two or three jewel-like large combination beads; this should be done on heavy silk. I think that would be enough, and I will try to make them not too big and with very clear designs. I can use leftover materials, there will be no expense involved, except for frames. It will be best to put them under glass since they will be spoiled by handling. But they would look well on the wall, and can be used again when more girls are hired.”