Dorr's Florist was a modest boutique in the heart of London. There had been some lean years, but now business was bustling. Eugénie's brother Philip- nearly twenty years her senior- ran the business, but she worked the counter when she wasn't at school. Her parents, mum especially, wanted her to pursue studies in horticulture, but she was more attracted to accounting. So Philip was teaching her bookkeeping on the side and was always impressed by her calculating mind.
The bell attached to the door jingled as a man walked into the shop. Eugénie looked up from behind the counter. He took off his hat and nodded his head at her in greeting before he pretended to browse the selection of plants.
"Can I help you find something?" Eugénie asked.
"I was passing by and noticed your display. I was attracted to the admirable quality of your plants." His English was heavily accented by way of Germany.
Eugénie paused and regarded the man. He hadn't really answered her question, and she suspected there was much more to it than that. "My parents grow all our plants on the estate at our country home," she offered.
"Ah yes, I believe that I knew your parents many years ago." The man approached the counter and pulled a black and white photograph from his pocket. He showed it to Eugénie then scanned her eyes for recognition. It was a portrait of Felicity Dorr with her daughter on her knee.
"That is my mother, and me. Wherever did you get it from?"
"Mrs. Dorr sent it to me many years ago. Forgive me for being so forward, but I wish to pay you a compliment. You have become a beautiful young lady." It was true; Eugénie was taller than her mother, and stockier than any of the wiry Dorrs. Her parents seemed so thin they would blow away in the wind, but Eugénie had the healthy build of a rubenesque cherub. The German man smiled kindly.
"Thank you, sir."
"Tell me, is your mother well?"
At that moment, Philip Dorr came out front from the back room. He recognized the German man at once, though his hair was white and he wore a suit and tie instead of his Nazi regalia.
"Baron von Rheingarten. What are you doing here?"
"Mr. Brotherson!" The Baron looked genuinely pleased. "I am glad to see you, alive and well."
Philip turned to his sister. "Genie, go help in the back."
Eugénie refused to budge. She was intrigued by the German man who knew of her brother's alias during the war.
"Genie, I said go!" Philip insisted.
But Eugénie Dorr had a stubborn streak. "You can't boss me around like that." Turning to the Baron, she continued, "many people assume that he's my father, but he's really my older brother."
Baron von Rheingarten answered her somewhat ominously, "No, I would never make that mistake. I know who your father is."
Philip turned red. "Baron, I must ask you to leave."
The Baron put up his hands. "I was referring to Senator Dorr, of course."
"My father is a simple gardener now."
"I cannot imagine the Senator digging around in the dirt."
"He learned to work with his hands in a Nazi labour camp. And my mother has shared with him her love of gardening. They have rebuilt their life after the war. Please leave them to it."
"Let me put your mind at ease; I am not here to cause any difficulties. I am in London for a viticulture trade show. I hope to increase the business scope of my vineyard. My wife is traveling with me, and she does not know… of my time at Sous les Chênes."
"What brings you here, then, to our shop?" Philip asked.
The Baron said nothing for a moment, but gave Philip a knowing smile. "I will return at 2PM tomorrow. I trust you will convey to Mrs. Dorr- and to your father, of course- my distinguished salutations." The Baron put his hat back on, but before he left, he turned to Eugénie.
"I would like very much to see you again, Eugénie, though I fear that may not come to pass. If you are ever in Germany, I do hope you would call on me." He pressed a small card into her hands.
"Thank you." She murmured, unsure of what else to say or what to think of this old man who knew Philip and her parents, but seemed intent on focusing his attention on her.
The Baron left the shop.
"That was strange; who was he, Phil?"
"That is the man who had your namesake killed. He is a horrible man, Genie."
"What, he killed Eugène, the boy you were caught spying with? Then what in the world does he want with me?" Eugénie asked Philip, who stood silent. She never knew her brother to look so haunted. "Phil, what the hell is going on?"