Proserpina

As I entered the foyer of the Club, the cold air hit me and I shivered. It was cloudy and I squinted up at the sky. It might rain; I hoped that young Philippe would take in the baskets of chopped vegetables we had left to dry in the sun. I was trying out a recipe for an Indian pickle and I needed to have sun-dried vegetables for that.

The cool interior of the Club was dark after the brightness of the day and it took me a minute to recognise the woman who had appeared before me. Shrugging, I walked forward and entered the elevator. The men with...