‘That’s outrageous!’ Holly burst out, unable to stop herself.
Kathleen continued, ignoring the interruption.’ It wasn’t true. But she had been raped by him many years earlier under almost identical circumstances to my own. My mother had a mole on the inside of her thigh. He used his knowledge of it to blackmail her. She loved Daddy very much. She’d never told him.’
‘So you were sacrificed,’ Holly whispered in horror.
Kathleen’s expression was matter-of-fact as she said, ‘Sacrificed? No. Life is a series of compromises, don’t you think? My mother had made many to provide Thomas and me with a future. What happened was not unusual. Mummy would have known the risks, if not before she went to work for the Dulacs then very soon afterwards. She took the chance for the sake of her children.’ Kathleen sighed. ‘The hardest cross to bear is often the weight of family responsibility. People look at things in a different light now but, back then . . . Anyway, staying was my decision. I’d heard the threats and seen my mother’s fear. It was too late to protect me. I loved Daddy too. Monsieur Dulac quickly lost interest in any one girl. It would only be for a little while. Mummy was so upset that she agreed.’ Kathleen gave Holly a gentle smile. ‘I don’t think of it as a sacrifice.’
‘Oh, you poor dear,’ Holly murmured. ‘What a terrible story.’
‘That’s not the end of it,’ Kathleen said softly. ‘It’s only the beginning.’
Connor put his arm around her again.
‘At least we got Thomas away before he heard of it. He was only thirteen and probably could have done with a bit more education but we used the excuse that Daddy needed help. He went happily enough. Becoming a fisherman was all he ever wanted to do anyway.’ Kathleen leaned over and tapped Holly’s knee. ‘And the myth continues that we are the weaker sex,’ she said almost playfully. ‘We know differently, don’t we dear?’
‘What was your mother frightened of?’ Connor asked, anger on Kathleen’s behalf making his voice harsh. ‘That your father would blame her?’
‘No. She was scared of what he might do. A gentle and loving man he might have been but he lived according to a fisherman’s code. Simplicity, honesty and mutual respect for others, but Heaven help any man who violated those standards. If he’d known what his wife and daughter had been subjected to, he would have reacted out of a terrible need for revenge. Where would it have got him? Or any of us for that matter? He’d have gone to the gallows. It was the last thing my mother needed.’
‘Kathleen’s right,’ Holly put in. ‘What man would not feel it his duty to demand retribution? It would have served no purpose to be without the main breadwinner in the family.’
‘I think he might have been given the benefit of the doubt,’ Connor said mildly. ‘Not all men –’
‘The New Age guy had yet to be invented,’ Holly replied tartly. ‘Besides, a woman knows how her man will react.’
Kathleen favoured them both with a long stare of reproach.
‘Sorry,’ Holly apologised meekly.
‘Me too. We interrupted. Please continue.’ Connor looked suitably contrite.
‘The abuse continued for more than four years. Monsieur Dulac terrified me. I was in some kind of emotional straitjacket, too frightened to do anything except submit. It wasn’t so much his threats to tell my father as an inability to think rationally. I became so scared of him that whenever I thought of refusing, or running away, this terrible, numbing dread would render me incapable of doing anything. Does that sound silly?’
Holly shook her head. She’d done a piece about battered women a few years ago and recalled the reason why many stayed with abusive and violent men. Most admitted that they’d simply been too scared to leave. It would have been especially difficult for Kathleen – a teenager in a servant and master situation, compounded by an inescapable fear for herself and her mother. ‘It’s not silly. The longer someone controls you, the harder it is to break from that hold, especially if fear is the weapon you are facing.’
Kathleen nodded. ‘The stupid thing is, once you’ve made the break you realise it wasn’t nearly as difficult as that fear would have had you believe.’ She took a deep breath and continued. ‘The only positive thing about it all was that I didn’t fall pregnant. It seemed like a miracle – none of the girls did. None, that is, until Raoul . . .’ With trembling hands, Kathleen clung to the crucifix around her neck.
‘When I was nineteen my life changed forever. Raoul was fourteen. He was a big strapping lad and had already been in trouble over accusations by one of the young girls in the kitchen. She was only fourteen herself. We found her half dead. She’d been flogged, sodomised and raped. There was a big fuss, the police came, but they were powerless to do anything. Half of them were in Monsieur Dulac’s debt – money here, a favour there – and the rest were just too scared of him. The Dulacs gave their son an alibi and that was the end of the matter. Raoul got away with it. Nine months later she gave birth to a son.’ Kathleen pulled off her glasses and rubbed at them vigorously with a handkerchief. ‘The baby was stillborn.’
She seemed to be steeling herself for the next bit. ‘The Dulacs had a huge row about Raoul. Monsieur Dulac wanted to send him to school in France but his wife wouldn’t hear of it. Not long after the fight, Madame Dulac sent word that she wanted to see me in the drawing room. I thought I’d done something wrong but she smiled and told me to sit. She didn’t beat about the bush, just got straight to the point. Raoul was growing up with the usual young man’s desires and that, as his mother, it was up to her to arrange suitable recipients. That was her word. Recipients!’
Once again, Connor and Holly’s eyes met.
‘You must understand how it was back then. I was already used goods. No decent young man would look at me. People talk. The things that went on were common enough knowledge. I was still young, in awe of the whole Dulac family and in no position to refuse. Madame Dulac made it clear that my job depended on cooperation. Then she left the room. Raoul came in through another door. I was locked in there with him for what seemed like hours.’ Kathleen shook her head vigorously and the guimpe around her shoulders flapped wildly. ‘I don’t remember much about it.’
She blinked a couple of times. ‘Three months later, I discovered I was pregnant. Madame Dulac found me ill with morning sickness. I expected her to be angry. Instead, she seemed pleased . . . no, not pleased, more like relieved. Oh, she pretended to be shocked but it was all part of a game to her. She deliberately blamed her husband, ranting on about it being bad enough that he flaunted his little floozies under her nose, now he’d made one pregnant. There was the shame of it, couldn’t he have been more careful and what were they to do with his bastard child. Monsieur Dulac just told her to shut-up and said that if she let him into her bed every now and then he wouldn’t have to go looking elsewhere. Instead of being embarrassed, he seemed quite proud that I was pregnant.’
These memories were more than painful. Holly could see that Kathleen’s gentle soul had been as violated as her body.
‘They said I could stay on. Even offered to pay any medical expenses. After a few more weeks, it became clear that my condition was not going to stop either Monsieur Dulac or Raoul. I couldn’t stand it a moment longer. Going home wasn’t an option. I went to my mother and told her everything. Although she was aware of Monsieur Dulac’s continued interest in me she had no idea about Raoul or that I was pregnant. I’d kept that from her. We agreed that I couldn’t possibly stay at the house. So . . . she . . . she . . . decided to call Monsieur Dulac’s bluff. Mummy got me safely away and then resigned. Monsieur Dulac made all kinds of threats but my mother stood up for us. It worked. Daddy never found out.’
Holly had been aware, by the tone she used whenever she spoke of him, that Kathleen had been particularly close to her father. It had also been apparent that the little nun had not enjoyed a similar depth of feeling for her mother. Now she thought she knew why. Whether she agreed or not, Kathleen’s happiness had been s
acrificed by the one person she should have been able to count on.
‘But where did you go?’
‘We waited until the Sunday when everyone was at church, then we simply walked out. There was a small convent near Port Louis and the nuns agreed to take me in. Daddy was told that I had decided to become a nun and no contact with family or friends was allowed for twelve months.’ Kathleen looked wry. ‘Funny how things work out. As a young girl I dreamed of a husband and a family. The convent offered sanctuary. I felt so safe there. The world outside was harsh and cruel. Perhaps I went a little crazy but, for a while, I believed that all men must be the same as Raoul and his father. It was easy to wrap the atmosphere of the convent around me like a security blanket. Before I knew it, it became my way of life.’
‘Years later I discovered that Monsieur Dulac was unable to father children. Raoul obviously wasn’t his son, and the older he became the less he looked like a Dulac.’
‘And the baby?’ Holly asked gently.
‘My daughter was beautiful.’ Kathleen’s lips trembled. ‘The Dulacs found me. They offered money for her. When I refused, Madame Dulac said that since the baby had been fathered by her husband . . . she would never acknowledge that it had been Raoul . . . a court of law would grant them custody. I didn’t know what to do, it was an impossible situation. The nuns urged me to accept and I . . . I signed a piece of paper giving my baby over to the Dulacs. One condition was that I would never approach the child, never attempt to make contact. To all intents and purposes, she no longer existed. At first I couldn’t see it but it seems to me now that destiny was at work on my behalf. All that had happened seemed to be pushing me in one direction. I never left the convent. I studied, took my vows and became a nun. The husband and family were not to be. Our good Lord had other plans. Sometimes I wonder, what if I hadn’t been asked to work that Sunday? What if my mother had sent me away?’ Kathleen smiled slightly. ‘I do hope,’ she said softly, ‘that somebody up there has a satisfactory explanation. When my time comes, I certainly intend to ask for one.’
A muscle ticked in Connor’s jaw.
‘I honoured my part of the bargain. As the years went by my daughter began to appear in the society pages. They called her Anne-Marie. I was able to . . . to follow her progress a little. She enjoyed a lifestyle I could never have provided. I worried about her though, growing up in that terrible place with such arrogant and cruel people. I feared she would become just like them.’
Kathleen looked over the bay and pointed. ‘Then, in 1997, both my parents were killed just over there. The bus they were travelling in left the road and went into the water. They were on their way to Ile aux Cerfs to see some friends. It was only when I was sorting through their private papers that I learned a little of our family history. I had never even heard of William the pirate until I read Aroon’s diary and traced the house where she and Gilchrist had lived. Finding William’s map gave me an idea. Just once I wanted to see my daughter, touch her hand, hear her voice. Suddenly I had something to bargain with.’
Tears rolled down Kathleen’s cheeks. ‘But it was too late. Anne-Marie had grown up. She was a Dulac through and through. She refused to see me.’
‘And by then you’d shown them William’s map?’ Connor guessed.
‘Yes.’ Kathleen shrugged. ‘I offered it in exchange for a meeting with Anne-Marie. It was no use, they said I was a fool.’ Kathleen frowned. ‘Perhaps that was true.’
‘And Raoul?’ Connor prompted.
‘I don’t know. His parents probably told him about it.’
‘And he stole the map.’
‘Yes. Oh, not Raoul himself, he got someone else to do that for him. It was in a safe deposit box at the bank. You see, Raoul came to see me. He said he could trick Anne-Marie into a meeting if I gave him the map. It was tempting, but I didn’t trust him and I didn’t wish to deceive Anne-Marie. I refused. Raoul became angry and threatened to take the map anyway. There was no doubt he could. That’s when I put it in the bank. When I went back about a month later the map had vanished. The bank manager said it was impossible but . . .’ Kathleen shrugged, ‘Raoul has many contacts. The normal rules don’t apply to Dulacs.’ Her gaze travelled from Holly to Conner. ‘And that’s what I wanted you to understand. He’s devious, corrupt, has no conscience and, above all, is very, very dangerous. Be careful of him, both of you.’
Holly picked up one of Kathleen’s tiny hands. ‘Where is Anne-Marie now?’
‘She lives in France most of the time. You have another question. What is it you wish to know?’
‘Didn’t you see any of this coming? I mean, with your . . . ability, couldn’t you have headed off some of it?’
‘Remember, I only learned how to use my gift once I’d become a nun. I could sense things, certainly, but I was still too young to realise what any of it meant. You must understand though, none of us can change destiny.’ Kathleen grinned suddenly, a boyish sort of smile that lit up her whole face. ‘Our karma you might call it.’
Holly laughed. ‘Hindu doctrine from a Roman Catholic nun. Is that allowed?’
Kathleen turned serious for a second. ‘It makes sense, though. Think about it.’
‘If you believe that fate is fate in any faith, how about extending the idea?’ Holly was deeply suspicious of all religions. Not only were their histories steeped in violence and deception. Today, more suffering, intolerance and unrest had religion as its root cause than any other single factor. ‘One God, one faith, one holy day, one set of rules.’
Kathleen wagged a finger at Holly. ‘I would love to have that argument with you another time, my dear. Unfortunately, I am almost out of time. But I do want to tell you this. You have a remarkable sensitivity.’ She turned to Connor. ‘In fact, you both do.’
Holly frowned slightly, not sure what Kathleen was alluding to.
The explanation was quickly provided. ‘You both hide past hurts behind the face that people see. It is that which makes you so sympathetic to my own facade. Most people would not understand how I can make light of . . . things which they would undoubtedly take more seriously.’ She smiled. ‘We all handle difficulties in different ways, do we not?’
Something like a snort came from Connor. ‘Handle! I wish.’
‘Me too,’ Holly said softly.
They spent another half-hour together. Holly used the time to question Kathleen on tape about general issues and learned that the Creole population of Mauritius – those who lay claim to African blood, irrespective of how much or how little – was surprisingly small, making up about twenty-seven per cent of the island’s inhabitants of just over a million. Within this ethnic mix, those with typically African features were referred to as mazambic while lighter-skinned people were called milat. The two groups tended to keep separate from each other. They did, however, share a common love of all-night parties, good food, lots to drink, and a generic inability to accumulate either wealth or possessions. Most Creoles lived life to the full and let tomorrow take care of itself. If they took anything seriously it was religion. Most were Roman Catholic with a simple faith in God that they wouldn’t dream of questioning.
Holly finally switched off the tape recorder. ‘Thank you for that.’
Kathleen smiled. ‘I’ve never done that before. Makes me feel like a celebrity.’
‘You were better. All they want to do is blow their own trumpet.’ She glanced at Connor. ‘Mind you, some of them have no choice.’
He raised his eyebrows and, quite out of character, stuck out his tongue.
Kathleen looked at her watch. ‘I must go soon. Before I do, please tell me about this person you think has a copy of the map.’
‘I don’t know much about him. He’s staying at my hotel. English, about thirty at a guess. He introduced himself the day I arrived.’ Quickly, she related all that had happened. ‘I’ve asked the magazine I’m working for to run a check on him.’
Connor nodded. ‘I’ve asked my people to do the same.’
‘Good idea.’ Holly agreed. ‘There’s something very suss about Monsieur Parker. And don’t forget his acquaintance, Madame Liang.’
‘Liang Song!’ Kathleen looked startled.
‘Yes.’ Holly wondered what had surprised the nun.
‘Well I’m blessed!’ Kathleen gave a chuckle. ‘Looks like Raoul isn’t as smart as he thinks.’
‘What do you mean?’ Connor asked.
‘Madame Liang Song is his current mistress.’
‘Yes, I know. But why should her obvious acquaintance with Parker be significant?’
‘Raoul stole the map. This Justin Parker has a copy. That means they might be involved together. Liang Song could be double-dealing. I wouldn’t put it past her.’
‘Oh shit!’ Holly burst out.
Kathleen and Connor looked at her.
‘Sorry. It’s just that when I interviewed her I put forward a hypothetical question – what would the Chinese reaction be if a girl such as herself became involved with a French-Mauritian.’
‘Ouch!’ Connor grinned. ‘I’ll bet that went down well.’
‘She didn’t like the question but her answer was pretty straightforward. I got the impression that the possibility of such an event happening was so remote from herself that it was almost beneath her to reply. The sly little cow! And here she is married to a young boy of sixteen.’
‘Well,’ Connor was still grinning, ‘underneath she’s probably asking herself just how much you know. Interesting. Wonder if she’ll be there Sunday.’
‘Raoul wouldn’t dare,’ Holly said. ‘His wife will be there.’
Kathleen rose gracefully and brushed off her habit. ‘He’d dare. More than likely he’d do it just to annoy Solange. That’s the kind of man he is.’ She looked at them silently for a moment, smiled slightly, shook her head and simply asked, ‘Will I see you again?’
The Forgotten Sea Page 19