Empress Bianca (54 page)

‘Daddy, this is all so mysterious and puzzling.’

‘It’s a matter of influence, Louise. More, I can’t say.’

‘But I’d have travelled halfway across the world to see you for only a few minutes.’

‘I know, honey, but you’ll be of more use back home than here. You have to do this for me and the rest of the family, if not for yourself.’

‘OK, Daddy.’

At the very moment that he was convincing his daughter to get out of Andorra, Philippe’s body was being released by the authorities for burial.

Agatha was also released from hospital at the same time, badly shaken and still suffering the effects of smoke inhalation. Gisele had arranged, at Bianca’s request, to have her flown out to Jamaica and to be given the princely sum, to her at least, of twenty-five thosand dollars US to cover the expenses of her recuperation.

Always a thoughtful and generous employer, Bianca wisely promised the woman a pension for life in the form of her salary being index linked and paid in advance on a monthly basis, together with a lump sum of $250,000 at the end of the second year ‘to assist our beloved Agatha in adjusting to life after such a traumatic end to her employment,’ as Bianca had put it, in return for which she was obliged to sign a waiver of all future claims against the Mahfud Estate.

When the time came, Agatha signed. She was simply too poor to cause a problem.

Philippe’s funeral was scheduled for four o’clock on the afternoon of Monday, May 31 1999, and the St John’s Wood Synagogue now became the venue for what would be a sensation. Bianca had wanted it to be as spectacular as Ferdie’s had been, and it was - in ways that she had not intended it to be. Her first miscalculation was to leave instructions with Erhud Blum and the ten other security guards not to allow in anyone whose name did not figure on the guest list. Not only are all places of worship in England public places and you therefore could not prevent anyone who wished to gain admittance from entering but also a funeral is not a party or a charity première. Treating it as if it were seemed both frivolous and undignified. Some might even say pretentious and silly. As Bianca’s aim was to contain the chatter and not inflame it, this was asking for trouble.

The real drama began when Raymond Mahfud arrived with his wife Begonia and his sisters Hepsibah and Rebecca at ten minutes to four.

‘Name please, sir,’ said the guard.

‘I am Raymond Mahfud and this is my wife and sisters,’ he replied in a voice that brooked no opposition.

The guard checked his list.

‘I’m sorry, sir, there seems to be some mistake,’ he replied, not realizing that Madame Mahfud had deliberately excluded all of Monsieur Mahfud’s own siblings from his funeral. ‘It must be an omission.’ He was just about to let them in when the guard standing on the other side of the door shook his head. They had strict instructions not to let in anyone whose name did not feature on the guest list. ‘Let me contact my superior, and we’ll sort this out.’

The guard buzzed Erhud Blum on his walkie-talkie and asked him what he should do.

‘How much do you want to bet that Bianca has deliberately left our names off the list?’ Raymond said in Spanish to Begonia, while the guard was talking to Erhud.

‘No. There must be a mistake. Not even Bianca would stoop so low,’ said Begonia of her old school friend.

The guard, having taken his instructions from his superior, turned to Raymond and said: ‘Monsieur Mahfud, the Head of Security will be along to see you in a moment. Once more, I’m sorry for this, especially at such a time.’

‘You’re only doing your job, young man,’ Raymond said magnanimously.

Moments later, Erhud Blum stepped out of the synagogue and came up to them, clearing up any doubt of Bianca’s responsibility. He was only too aware that he was not to let in any of the Mahfud family, but his Orthodox heritage was offended by his employer’s wish to exclude her late husband’s family from his leave-taking of this world. He was also prepared to put his job on the line for his principles - in the unlikely event that Bianca did not get rid of a security staff she had been complaining about for years. ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ he therefore said in a tone of voice which made his position clear. ‘Our instructions are not to let in anyone who isn’t on the list. Madame was most particular about that. But, seeing as you’re Monsieur’s family and synagogues are public places, we don’t have any authority, beyond Madame’s, to prevent you for entering. So if you want to step past us, there’s nothing we can do to stop you.’

‘Thank you,’ said Raymond.

‘Think nothing of it, sir’ Erhud Blum said with respect.

Raymond, Begonia, Hepsibah and Rebecca walked around him and stepped inside. Stopping for a moment to get their bearings, they headed towards the casket, only to see that it was already closed.

‘Why is my brother’s casket closed?’ asked Raymond, who had wanted to see his beloved brother’s face one last time, of a guard standing nearby.

‘Madame gave the undertaker instructions to close the casket at three o’clock, sir,’ the guard said.

‘Open it,’ Raymond ordered. Around him, the invited guests continued to stream in and heads turned to see what the commotion around the coffin was all about.

‘I’ll have to get the undertaker to do that.’

‘You do that,’ Raymond ordered, as his sisters stood by quietly in tears at the sight of the coffin housing their brother’s body.

The guard quickly returned to say that the undertaker could not open the casket once it had been sealed. ‘The bitch,’ Raymond spat out in Arabic to his wife and sisters. ‘She did this deliberately so that we wouldn’t have a chance to say goodbye to Philippe.’ Then he turned to the guard.

‘Please escort us to our seats,’ he said.

‘If you’re not on the list, you won’t have seats,’ said the guard, embarrassed. ‘They’ve all been allocated.’

‘In that case, get chairs for us,’ Raymond ordered. ‘We’ll wait here until you find some. Then you can place them where I tell you.’

So far, Bianca was nowhere to be seen. ‘You’d have thought the Praying Mantis would be here to receive all her chic Fifth Avenue friends,’ Hepsibah said.

‘She must be planning a dramatic, last-minute entry,’ said Begonia, accurately divining her intention.

‘She thinks she’s Norma Desmond in
Sunset Boulevard
,’ Hepsibah said.

‘She is Norma Desmond in
Sunset Boulevard,
’ Rebecca said. ‘Mad, attention-seeking and ruthless. Till my dying day, I will never be able to erase the vision of that woman marrying one man and sleeping on her honeymoon with another.’

Two guards then returned with four folding chairs. ‘Follow me,’

Raymond said to his wife and sisters, and they set off for the front row, where the Secretary General of the United Nations, the Commissioner for Refugees, various European politicians and three European princes, one of royal blood and two of the commercial world, were seated along with Dolphie Minckus, Walter Huron, and the Duke of Oldenburg. The men were on one side of the aisle, the women on the other. ‘Here,’ said Raymond to the guard, indicating the central spot, ‘put mine here. And put the others beside it: in a row, like this,’ he continued, pointing to the centre aisle which would then be almost blocked by the four chairs, for the gap between Raymond’s chair and the ladies’was so narrow that only a thin person could get through with ease.

The guard did as he was told. He opened Raymond’s chair, placed it where ordered then followed Raymond, who by this time had crossed to the other side of the aisle, where the women were segregated from the men.

‘Put those two here,’ he ordered, pointing to the end of the front row where Bianca’s name and the names of her good friends Ruth Fargo Huron, Stella Minckus and the Duchess of Oldenburg were displayed on gilt chairs. The congregation by this time was transfixed by the drama that was taking place at the front of the synagogue, and there was a buzz of speculation as to what was going on in the front row. No one who saw Raymond Mahouz’s face could doubt that he was furious beyond words, but no one in the congregation had any idea what the fuss was all about. All they could see was Raymond thanking the guards graciously then taking his seat, along with his wife and sisters, with great dignity.

No sooner had the Mahfud family sat down than Bianca arrived, on the arm of the European chairman of USNB, Sir Jonathan Richards, flanked by Stella Mickus, Ruth Fargo Huron and the Duchess of Oldenburg, as if this were a wedding and they were bridal attendants.

The progress upon which Bianca then embarked towards the front of the synagogue was more like royalty greeting an assemblage of acolytes than a widow heading towards her husband’s coffin. She was so busy being gracious, constantly smiling to the right and left that she did not even notice how her arrangements had been altered until it was too late. Only when she could no longer turn back and walk down a side aisle, did she notice Raymond, Begonia, Hepsibah and Rebecca ensconced in the front row, preventing her easy access to Philippe’s coffin. She was so surprised by their temerity in having crashed Philippe’s funeral and frustrated her plans that she let out an involuntary and very audible gasp. Their presence forced first Sir Jonathan, then Bianca and her three female attendants in turn, to squeeze through the narrow passage single-file. While they were doing so, Hepsibah and Rebecca pointedly nodded to each other, knowing that by so doing, they would be sending a message to the watching congregation that would publicly embarrass Bianca.

Victory in the next round of this public squabble also went to Raymond. The funeral rites having just concluded, eight eminent pallbearers, none of whom had known Philippe well enough to call him a friend but all of whom were household names which bedazzled readers of glossy magazines such as
Vanity Fair
or
The Tatler
, stepped forward to lift the dead man’s coffin out of the synagogue. Intent on not being excluded from an honour that was rightfully his, Raymond stepped forward, determinedly taking his place at the front of the company, and shoved his
shoulder under the casket. In so doing, Raymond forced one of them to step aside as the deceased’s brother assumed his rightful place as chief pallbearer. This position he maintained until the eight pallbearers had conveyed the coffin to the hearse, and, when it reached the North London burial ground, he once again resumed his place of honour to convey Philippe to the waiting grave. Only when he reached it did Raymond pause, casting his eyes over the open hole that would be his brother’s final resting place. He took in the canvas canopy erected beside it, beneath which reposed little gilt chairs such as one customarily saw at couture shows. Further angered by what he perceived to be the undignified manner in which Philippe’s widow had turned his funeral into a society show, Raymond relinquished his place of honour to the undertakers.

By the time Philippe had been buried, Raymond could no longer contain himself. Although a great adherent to the principles of dignity, he was so outraged by a funeral that he saw as both a farce and an insult to not only his late brother but also to himself and his sisters, that he was no longer prepared to contain his fury. On his way to rejoin Begonia, Hepsibah and Rebecca, who were standing at the end of a row of gilt chairs occupied by Bianca and her socialite friends, he deliberately chose to walk in front of his sister-in-law. Getting as close to her as it was possible to do, he brushed past her knees and forced her to pull in her feet under the chair to avoid having them trodden upon. As she glowered at him with the set smile that he knew meant hatred, Raymond glowered back at her. ‘You think you’re so clever,’ he said. ‘Just you wait.’

Pedro and Manolito, no longer surprised by any of Bianca’s antics, moved in to restore a semblance of decency to their stepfather’s leavetaking.

They approached Raymond in full view of everyone before he could reach his wife and sisters.

‘Please accept our condolences, Uncle Raymond,’ said Pedro, intent upon righting, insofar as he could, Bianca’s wrong, ‘and my apologies for my mother’s deplorable conduct.’

‘And mine too, Uncle Raymond,’ added Manolito. ‘Uncle Philippe must be dancing a jig at what’s gone on here today.’

‘Thank you, boys,’ Raymond said. ‘It’s awfully decent of you to do this. I know how fond you kids all were of your Uncle Philippe, and I want you to know he would be proud of you right now.’

‘Will we see you at the reception?’ asked Manolito. ‘It’s in the ballroom at Claridge’s.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Raymond said. ‘We haven’t been invited.’

‘That doesn’t matter,’ Pedro said. ‘The Praying Mantis can’t very well throw you out. If she tries anything, I’ll say that I asked you to come.’

‘It’s good of you, boys, but no. We’ll go back to our hotel and remember your Uncle Philippe the way he would really want to be remembered.’

‘When will you be returning home?’ Pedro asked.

‘Maybe next week.’

‘Me too. I’ll look you up when I get back.’

‘You do that. You too, Manolito, when you’re next in Mexico.’

‘Right, Uncle Raymond,’ Manolito said and kissed Raymond three times Middle-Eastern style. The people surrounding them craned their necks to get a better view of Bianca’s child and stepchild showing solidarity to the very person whom she had tried to exclude from the proceedings.

The time had come for Raymond to leave. So, having said goodbye to the boys, he crossed over to Begonia, Hepsibah and Rebecca and, linking arms with his wife, said: ‘It’s time we went.’

In declaring war on the Mahfud family so publicly and so callously, Bianca had not only hardened those four relations into real enemies, but she had also ignited the fuse of public speculation. Before the day was over, half the people in the congregation who witnessed the spectacle of the Mahfuds having to crash their own blood relation’s funeral had spread the word far and wide about the war between Bianca and Philippe’s family.

As so often happens when people have something important and painful to discuss, once the Mahfud family were in their suite, they delayed having their conversation about what to do next. First they changed out of their funereal clothes into something more comfortable and ordered a light supper of soup, white wine and fresh fruit. Then they decided to wait until it had arrived, for they did not want to be interrupted by waiters walking in with food while they were in full flow.