The September sun was baking Le Bourget airport as passengers moved forward and boarded the Prometheus aircraft, which was about to depart within the next few minutes, heading to Croydon. Jane Gray was among the last passengers to enter the cabin and made her way to her seat, number 16. Some of the passengers had already passed through the inner door, in front of the cramped kitchen-storage and the two toilets, in order to reach the front section of the cabin. Most had already taken their seats. From the opposite side of the aisle, scattered conversations could be heard, dominated by the rather shrill voice of a woman. Jane’s lips twisted slightly. She knew that particular type of voice very well.
“My dear… what a surprise! I had no idea! Where did you say? Jeanne Le Pen? Ah, yes. No… Le Pine… Yes, essentially the same people… But, of course, let’s sit together. Oh, that’s not possible? Who… Ah, indeed…” And then, a male voice… with a foreign accent, polite: “With pleasure, madam.” Jane cast a sidelong glance. A short elderly man with a large mustache and an oval head was being moved along with his luggage from the seat opposite Jane’s on the other side of the aisle.
Jane slightly turned her head and managed to make out the two women, whose unexpected meeting had prompted this polite gesture from the unknown man. The mention of Le Pine had piqued her curiosity, as Jane herself had been to Le Pine. She remembered one of the women very clearly, recalling the last time she had seen her, at the baccarat table, with her proper hands clenching and unclenching, while her discreetly made-up face, reminiscent of fine porcelain, flushed and paled alternately.