Chateau Despair

by Red Rose Publishig

  “No, please don’t apologise. You were quite right. It was a mistake. I’ve decided to tell Freddie that when he comes down tomorrow. It’s awful of me to have behaved so badly, but I’m hoping he will forgive me.”

  “Christine, I…”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “No, please don’t say anything yet, Paul. I’ve decided I’m going to enrol as a nurse. I know you don’t feel able to marry for some years – well, I’m not ready to get married either. I want to do something useful with my life, and I think I might be good at nursing. I should like us to be friends and meet sometimes and if…” She faltered and blushed, looking into his eyes. “I need time to know myself, Paul – and to know you.”

  “I’m glad you’ve decided to do what you want with your life,” Paul said and smiled at her. “I should like to be your friend, Christine – and perhaps one day we’ll be more.”

  “Yes, perhaps we shall,” she agreed. “And now I want to tell you about Clothilde…”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Christine was spreading honey on toast when her mother walked into the breakfast room. She had already spent half an hour feeding the hens and collecting the first eggs of the day, and she was hungry. She glanced up with a welcoming smile.

  “Good morning, Mummy.”

  “You’re up early, Christine. Couldn’t you sleep?”

  “I’ve been out already and come back. I spoke to Ned while I was looking for eggs. He said his grandson’s ship is expected in Portsmouth any day now. He wants Tom to come back and work for us, but I don’t think he will, do you? Not after being in the navy…”

  “I shouldn’t have thought it would suit him,” Beth agreed. “But we should be glad to take him if he does want to come.”

  “Shall I pour you a cup of tea?”

  “Thank you, darling.” Beth sat down. “Have you seen Clothilde this morning?”

  “Yes. She was packing her things. She is going to France to fetch her daughter. I want to go with her, Mummy. I don’t think she should be alone. She told me that Henry has spoken to her of visiting Elena’s grave, and that she has told him she would be happy for him to do so. I would like to go with them.”

  “I don’t think things are very pleasant out there at the moment,” Beth began and then stopped. “No, I mustn’t treat you as if you were a child, must I? It’s your decision, my darling. If you want to go with them, then you must. Henry told me he was determined to make the journey last night. I don’t think he ought to, but I wouldn’t try to stop him.”

  Christine laughed as she jumped up from the table and kissed her mother on the cheek. “Thank you – and you’re happy with my decision to take up nursing?”

  “If it’s what you want,” Beth replied. “What about Freddie?”

  “He will be here shortly. I thought it best to tell him face to face that I couldn’t marry him. It would have been easier to telephone, but that wouldn’t be fair to him.”

  “No, it wouldn’t,” her mother said. “I can’t say I’m sorry you’ve decided not to marry him. It wasn’t right for you, Christine. It’s just as well your engagement hadn’t been announced; that will save embarrassment all round.”

  “I just wish I hadn’t said yes in the first place. I never meant to hurt Freddie.”

  “I think you will find that he will understand,” Beth said. “And it’s always better to do something now than let things drift on. It would have been even worse if you had married him and then discovered that you weren’t suited.”

  “Yes, I know.” Christine heard the sound of voices in the hall. “I think that may be him now. “I had better go and see him at once…”

  The interview was difficult but made easier by Freddie’s generosity. He accepted her apology, looking sad but resigned.

  “Whatever you do in the future, I wish you only happiness, my dear. I remain very fond of you and always shall.”

  “Thank you, Freddie. I don’t deserve that.”

  He smiled and shook his head, taking the hand she offered and kissing it briefly.

  After Freddie had gone, Christine went upstairs to see her grandfather. He was resting in his chair, supervising the packing of the clothes he would need for their trip to France, but he sent his man away when he saw her and invited her to sit down.

  “Am I disturbing you?”

  “No, of course you aren’t.” Henry gave her an odd look. “You haven’t fallen out with me then?”

  “You know better than that, Henry.”

  “Even though I’ve let you down?”

  “You’ve never let me down. I’ve always been spoiled and loved – and you would have done as much for Clothilde if you had known about her. Don’t punish yourself for Clothilde’s sake. She wouldn’t want that, Henry. I’ve got to know her a little better, and I’ve discovered that she is honest and decent – even though she may not be strictly moral in the way most people think right. She makes her own rules, perhaps because she’s had to fend for herself all her life.” She frowned as she perched on the edge of his bed. “Why didn’t Elena Dubois come to you when her family threw her out? She must have known you would help her.”

  Henry reached for her hand and held it in his gnarled one for a moment. “Let me tell you a little bit about her…” She felt his hand tremble. “I want to try and explain…”

  “It’s all right. I do understand – most of it anyway.”

  “I loved her,” he said simply. “That doesn’t excuse what I did – but love like that I felt for Elena makes fools of better men than me.”

  “I think you are a good man. You didn’t mean this to happen. It was a terrible tragic thing, but others were to blame as much and more than you.”

  “No, I didn’t mean it to happen – but it has and it’s my fault. I’ve lived with the knowledge of my culpability for years, Christine. Now I have to do what I can to put it right – make up to Clothilde a little for what happened.”

  “You will.” She leaned over to kiss his cheek. It felt papery and dry beneath her lips. She was aware that he was becoming fragile and she felt a shaft of fear. It would break her heart to lose him! “Tell me about Elena. What was she like?”

  “Beautiful. Clothilde looks a bit like her when she smiles – it’s a way she has of tipping her head – nothing much, but I noticed it from the first. Elena was much fairer. Clothilde must get her colouring from me.”

  “She is fun when she wants to be. I didn’t really know her at all until last night when we talked, and then I began to see there was so much more to her than I had suspected. Was her mother like that?”

  “Very much so. Elena was full of life and mischief. I suppose that’s why I fell for her. My wife was not a happy woman. Our life together was bleak in many ways. Perhaps that was my fault. She told me soon after we were married that she regretted it – but by then we had Beth and it was too late. We both cared for our children too much to hurt them. Neither of us could have contemplated divorce.”

  “It wasn’t the thing then, was it? Yes, I understand – and I see why you took the chance for happiness while you could. Clothilde is always saying you should seize the moment because it can never be recalled.”

  “Elena had the same attitude to life. She was an innocent child, but she wanted all she could get from life. She took me with her…made me feel young and needed. I had never felt that way before and I lost my head.”

  “Oh, Henry.” Christine blinked back her tears. “She must have been wonderful…”

  “She was. She loved me and I loved her. My brief time with Elena was the happiest of my life – and she said I made her happy too.”

  “Then why…why didn’t she come to you when she knew about the child?”

  “Because I was married. She said that my wife must never be hurt because of what we had done. In her way she was very moral – but like Clothilde she made her own rules.”

  Christine saw the grief in his eyes and her heart caught.

  “But you would have helped
her – she should have come to you if she was in trouble.”

  “I wish to God she had!”

  Christine sat respectfully silent, agreeing with all her heart. So much grief and pain would have been saved if Clothilde’s mother had only let Henry take care of her

  “Clothilde is proud. Perhaps Elena was just too proud to ask.”

  “Yes, perhaps she was…”

  “This is my daughter, Christine,” Clothilde said as she picked up the little girl and showed her to them. “Her name is Andrea and she is very precious to me.

  “She is lovely…and you say she is nearly four years old now?” Christine stood in the sunshine of the Abbey courtyard, her throat catching. “So beautiful…”

  “Andrea is one of our sweetest tempered children,” the Nun told them with a smile. “We shall be sorry to part with her, though it is always a happy day for us when a child returns to its family.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, we have many who have no family to claim them…our little children of the war…”

  “Are there many like that?” Christine’s attention was caught. “I hadn’t thought about it before, but I suppose there must be.”

  “Thousands … in camps and places like this all over Europe,” the Nun replied. “The war has left hundreds of thousands of homes torn apart, one or perhaps both parents dead, children abandoned or simply lost.”

  “That’s terrible.” Christine said glanced at Henry. “Did you know about this?”

  He nodded, his eyes dwelling on her face. “Yes, Christine, I was aware of it. They are only just beginning to come to terms with the problem. The lucky ones are in places like this, but many more have been simply abandoned.”

  “That’s awful,” she repeated, but Clothilde was indicating that they should leave.

  “Goodbye Andrea,” the Sister kissed the child. “Be a good girl and do as your mother tells you.” She nodded to Christine. “It is good that Clothilde had a family to care for her child.”

  “Yes, her family will take care of her,” Henry said. He smiled at Clothilde. “Come along, my dear. The car is waiting.”

  “Do not spoil her too much,” the Sister warned. “Goodbye, Miss Winthrope. It was a pleasure to meet you and Mr. Winthrope. Goodbye, Clothilde, be happy in your new life. We shall always remember you in our prayers.”

  Henry looked at her as she carried the child out to the car.

  “She isn’t too heavy for you?”

  “No, she isn’t heavy at all,” Clothilde said. “She is just beautiful – aren’t you, my little love?”

  She whispered a few words of French against the little girl’s ear and saw her face light up. Christine held the child while Christine settled into the back of the car, then handed her in. She got in beside them and Henry got into the front, telling his driver to take them back to their hotel.

  It wasn’t until they were back at the hotel that Henry asked the question. “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind, Christine?”

  “We’ve got Andrea, and she will be spoiled and loved,” Christine hesitated. “But I can’t help thinking about all those other children…those abandoned, homeless children of the war…”

  “No, of course you can’t. I wouldn’t expect you to, Christine.” He gave her a look that was half amusement half resignation. “So what do you want to do about it?”

  “There must be some way to help them…”

  “It will happen slowly,” he told her. “International organisations are beginning to tackle the problem, but I’m sorry to say there is rather a lot to sort out at the moment. Treaties and boundaries and who gets what - now the fighting is over the squabbling starts. It’s always like that after a war I’m afraid. We may have won the war but the fight for the peace still goes on.”

  Christine’s face was pale and earnest as she looked at him. “But the children are suffering, Henry. I want to help them – I want to help all of them…”

  Henry gave a soft chuckle. “That’s a bit of a tall order – but we might be able to start up our own rescue scheme and registered charity for a start. We’ll ask your mother about it, she’ll know.”

  “No,” Clothilde surprised them. “That is for me to do. Beth is already so busy, and Christine has her nursing to think about. I need to do something worthwhile with my life – and if you will help me, Henry, this is what I shall do.”

  “There may be a lot of travelling involved,” Henry wrinkled his brow as he looked at her. “It will be hard work, Clothilde. I thought you might like to set yourself up as a dress designer. I could have given you some money.”

  “I would rather use the money for this – and live somewhere near you,” she said. “Andrea must know her family. Family is so important and she has four years of catching up to do.”

  “Yes, family is important,” Henry said gruffly. “There is a house I own in the village. I’ll get Paul Crane to do it up for you. You’ll be near enough to visit when you like – just be sure you do.”

  “Oh, I shall,” Clothilde assured him. “You can be sure of that. Beth will tell me what I need to do to set up the charity – and Christine can help when she has the time.”

  “But first we have something to do,” Henry reminded her. “I know you want to visit Elena’s grave, Clothilde – but may I ask for a few moments alone first?”

  “Yes, of course,” Clothilde said. “I’ll take Christine to the chateau. You would like to see it, wouldn’t you, Christine?”

  “Yes, of course.” Christine smiled at her. “I should like that very much.”

  Afterword

  FRANCE 1960

  “It’s going to be the latest of our homes for abandoned children in France,” Clothilde told the young architect who was standing in front of the Chateau Sanclere and studying the rough plans she had given him. “We have them all over Europe, of course – but we intend to call this one the Elena Dubois Home – in memory of Andrea’s grandmother…”

  “Ah yes…” His eyes strayed to the young woman playing in the sunshine with a child of about five years old. “Is the child your granddaughter?”

  “Good gracious no,” Clothilde laughed. “Andrea is eighteen and Sarah is five. The child is the daughter of Mrs. Paul Crane. I told you I was employing Mr. Crane as my builder, I believe? Christine and her husband are walking in the woods, but they will be here soon. My father is buried near here with my mother, and I believe they visited the grave together.”

  “You have lost your parents recently?”

  “My mother died when I was born, but my father…that was ten years ago. He wanted to be buried here. Christine and I arranged it together.” She turned her head as she heard laughter. “Ah, yes, here they are now.” She smiled as Christine and Paul came up to them. “This is my architect, Paul – Monsieur Piedmont. I am sure you have lots to talk about.”

  Christine looked at her as the two men went to stare at what was left of the chateau. “Does it make you feel sad to see it all come down, Clothilde?”

  “There wasn’t much left of it,” Clothilde replied. “I’m glad that we were able to buy the land so cheaply. It will be a good place for our children. Plenty of space for them to live and grow.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Christine said, looking at her thoughtfully. “I’m glad you asked us to come with you today, not just because you chose Paul to do the work, but because I wanted to see Henry’s grave.”

  “Did it make you feel sad?”

  “No, how could it? He is where he wanted to be.”

  “Yes…with the woman he loved at last.”

  “Are you ever lonely, Clothilde?” Christine asked. “You’ve never married.”

  “But I have loved,” Clothilde said. “Once I thought I could never love, but I have learned to be happy. I have my family, my friends and my lovers.” She laughed huskily. “I do not think I was meant to marry. But I am content. That is all one can ask – is that not so?”

  “Yes, I suppose it is…”

  Christine stopped a
s the men came back to them, meeting her husband’s eyes in a look of perfect understanding.

  “Monsieur Piedmont was just telling me he admired your work, Clothilde,” Paul said.

  “Your work is much admired all over Europe, madame,” the young architect agreed at once. “That is why I jumped at the chance to do this project for you.” He was speaking to Clothilde but his eyes were on the lovely young woman, who was now speaking to one of the workmen who were already pulling parts of the old chateau down to clear the way for rebuilding.

  “Mummy…” Andrea came towards them, leading Sarah by the hand and carrying a very old suitcase in her other hand. “Look what the workmen have found in a wall cavity upstairs.”

  “In a secret hiding place?” Clothilde was amused as she saw her daughter’s excitement. It was the suitcase she had hidden long ago and forgotten. “Well, open it, darling. We are all longing to see what is inside.”

  Andrea was kneeling on the ground, her long fair hair falling forward over her face as she wrestled with the lock. Monsieur Hugo Piedmont knelt down beside her and inserted a little knife to free it for her, and she gave him a grateful smile.

  “It had rusted,” he said. “It must have been hidden for some years.”

  Andrea opened the lid and gave a cry of delight as she saw what was inside. “It’s a collection of paintings. This one is by someone called Henri Marnier I think…”

  “He sells very well now,” her companion said. “But this one will make far more…” He showed her the Cézanne. “This is quite a find, mademoiselle…”

  “I wonder who put them here?”

  Christine bent to pick up some of the other paintings. “These look fairly amateur but…” She looked at Clothilde in surprise. “Isn’t this you, Clothilde?”

  “Yes, I believe it is. It was painted by someone I knew many years ago. I hid the suitcase here just before the war started. I meant to come and fetch it one day, but then I forgot.”

  “It is very good, Maman,” Andrea said. “You look beautiful – but then of course you are beautiful.”