Time for Silence

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Time for Silence Page 13

by Philippa Carr


  “Edouard? That’s his name, is it? We’ll call him Edward. That will go down better here.”

  I hugged her. She had reacted to the baby just as I had known she would.

  “I thought,” she said, “that his mother was that Andrée.”

  “Oh, no. We found her in an inn just over the border between Belgium and France. Her home was blown up, her parents killed, and she was on her way to an aunt whom she loathes. She wants to get work here. I thought we could help her. She’s very good with babies.”

  “You have brought home some problems with you, my darling. And you not yet out of the schoolroom! You’re something of a manipulator…but I love you for it, and I’m deliriously happy because I’ve got you back.”

  “And then there is Miss Carruthers. She is quite different from what I thought her. At school she was indomitable…really formidable, and now I realize that she is just a little frightened about the future.”

  “I’ve known governesses like that. They wonder what will happen to them when they can no longer teach.”

  “It seems there’s a cousin who lets her know she’s living on her bounty. It must be horrible. I know she would love to stay here for a few days.”

  “I can see no reason why she shouldn’t. She came with you all the way and that makes her a rather special person to me.”

  “How lucky I am to have you and Papa instead of a horrible old cousin and an aunt like Andrée’s. Tell me about Robert.”

  “He’s been very worried about you. We’ll have to let him know at once that you are safely home. He joined up right at the start, and of course he couldn’t get away. On the first opportunity he’ll be here, you see.”

  “Robert a soldier…how strange that seems!”

  “I think we are going to find lots of strange things happening in the next months. But at the moment all I care about is that you are home.”

  At that moment the door opened and my father came in. He did not speak but put his arms around me and held me tightly. He stroked my hair. “We are so pleased that you have come back to us,” was all he said. It was a wonderful homecoming.

  The next day was given over to frenetic planning. My mother threw herself into this with an almost maniacal energy. She kept telling me how thankful she was that I was home and of the terrible anxiety they had suffered, of her wild imaginings as to what was happening. “I never want to go through that again,” she said more than once.

  “Our first concern,” she went on, “must be the baby.” The nursery was to be opened up. The servants were delighted. They cooed over Edouard—Edward as he had now become—and he was clearly delighted with the attention.

  “Poor little mite,” said Mrs. Cherry. “His home blown up by them Germans. I’d blow them up if I had my way. You’d think they’d have some pity for a helpless little baby. It’s a good thing we’re going to show them what’s what.”

  “We’ll have to get a nanny,” said my mother. “In the meantime, Andrée will stay and help. I must say Edward seems to have taken a fancy to her…almost as much as he has for you.”

  “That will suit her beautifully. We’ve got to help her, Mama. She seems so happy now that she can stay here. She was very upset about going to that old aunt of hers.”

  “Poor girl! What a lot she has gone through. Thank God, Edward is too young to know what happened to his home.”

  So the problem of Edward and Andrée had settled itself. The next was Miss Carruthers. My father had taken quite a liking to her. He found her conversation stimulating. On the first evening, she impressed him with her knowledge of government and political matters.

  During that first meal, they had a discussion about the merits and drawbacks of a coalition government. Miss Carruthers offered the opinion that, though this could be a somewhat hazardous procedure in peacetime, it might be quite the reverse when we were at war.

  “To have all parties working together with one aim—the successful conclusion of the war—would be preferable to having them carping for the sake of carping. To have them thinking of the good of the country rather than scoring political points, as is, alas, their usual practice, could not fail to be beneficial.”

  My father agreed with her, and they chatted at ease and with obvious enjoyment.

  A few days passed. My mother suggested that Miss Carruthers should stay a little longer, unless she was in a hurry to get to the country. Miss Carruthers accepted the invitation with obvious pleasure.

  Annabelinda went back to Hampshire with her parents, declaring that she would be coming back to London soon.

  My mother often came to my room immediately after we had retired. Just for a little bedtime chat, she used to say.

  During one of these, she said, “I think it is unlikely that you will be going back to La Pinière. It’s no use our deceiving ourselves that all this is going to be over in a week or two. The Germans are flooding into Belgium. They’ll be in France before long. I’ve been talking this over with your father. You are only fifteen years old and your education is not finished.”

  “It’s holiday time now.”

  “I know, but that will soon be over. We have to think ahead. Your father and I could not bear to let you go away to school again…even in England. What you went through…”

  “Oh, it wasn’t so bad for us. We got away in time…thanks to Major Merrivale. It would have been difficult without him.”

  “Oh, yes, indeed. We’re going to ask him to dinner…perhaps on the twenty-third, if he can manage it…and your Uncle Gerald with him. But then he may not be able to spare the time. But what I was going to say was that you have to continue your education, war or no war, and your father thought it might be a good idea to ask Miss Carruthers if she would stay and act as governess.”

  I looked at my mother and laughed.

  “What’s the matter?” she said. “Have I said something funny?”

  “No…no. Not at all. It is just that you are like some sort of magician. You’re making it all work out…Andrée, Edward…and now Miss Carruthers.”

  “You like her, don’t you? Your father thinks she is a very intelligent woman.”

  “Yes, I do like her. I like her quite a lot now I’ve got to know her. She’s different away from school. There she was so stern. When we were coming across France, she seemed to become human.”

  “I think she is a nice woman and would be a very good governess.”

  “Have you mentioned it to her?”

  “Not yet. Your father and I decided we would see how you felt about it first.”

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea. She was so hating the thought of going back to that cousin. I can’t help laughing. It’s so wonderful now we are home. We talked one night in the inn at Calais, with the waves dashing against the harbor walls….We talked about ourselves and our fears of what would happen if we ever got away and came home. We talked of our problems, and I could see that Miss Carruthers was just a little frightened about the future….So was Andrée. Now it’s solved. It’s like a fairy-tale ending.”

  She was silent for a while and then she said, “We’ve got to keep it so, Lucinda. Will you talk to Miss Carruthers? But perhaps I should.”

  “Yes,” I said. “You ask her. Tell her how grateful you will be if she stays.”

  “I will do that.”

  I looked around my room and said, “It is wonderful to be home.”

  The days passed quickly. Miss Carruthers was clearly delighted at the prospect of her new post. She discussed what she called “our curriculum” with me. She would concentrate especially on literature, she thought; through this I should get a good grounding in the classics and would be able to show erudition when conversing with my father’s guests. I agreed. I would have agreed to anything, because I was so happy to see her pleasure. It was the same with Andrée. They were two contented people.

  I wrote to Annabelinda. I had to tell her that Miss Carruthers was going to be my governess. I was sure that would amuse her. She, at
the mature age of seventeen, would doubtless persuade her mother that no further education was necessary.

  Nothing much has changed here, I wrote.

  Of course, everyone talks of the war and little else. Most people seem to think it will be over by Christmas. Perhaps it will, once our forces get over there.

  We haven’t seen Uncle Gerald yet. Aunt Hester says he is very busy. I am sure it won’t be long before he is overseas. He is involved now at the War Office. He is coming to dinner on the twenty-third. And guess what? Major Merrivale is coming, too. Mama thought it would be best to invite him when Uncle Gerald comes. It will be fun to see him again.

  Andrée is very happy. I can’t help thinking how strange it was, meeting them at Le Cerf. Don’t you agree? One chance meeting and people’s lives are changed.

  Edward is very happy here. He is no longer Edouard. My mother thought it best to anglicize him, as he’ll be brought up here. She has been wonderful about everything. But then I knew she would be.

  Have you heard any news of Robert?

  Give my love to your parents, and of course I send the same to you.

  Lucinda

  I did not hear from Annabelinda. She rarely answered letters unless there was something she particularly wanted to say.

  Aunt Hester came over to see us from Camberley, where she and Uncle Gerald had lived for most of their married life. She was in London to do some shopping, she said, and had taken the opportunity to call.

  “It saves writing,” she said. “It’s about this dinner. Gerald can’t possibly come on the twenty-third. Things are moving fast over there. The Germans are approaching Mons and the situation is getting more and more alarming.”

  Mons! I thought of Madame Rochère and wondered what she was doing. I had a feeling she would never leave La Pinière.

  “I understand, of course,” said my mother. “But what a pity! I did want to let Major Merrivale know how grateful we are to him. I suppose he will be involved with Gerald?”

  “Oh, yes. They’ll leave at the same time, I expect. They do work closely together.”

  “It was wonderful of him to arrange to get the girls home.”

  “Gerald would do a lot for the family. But what I was going to say was…could we have this dinner party earlier? I think—but I can’t be absolutely certain—that Gerald will be leaving on the twenty-second. The nineteenth would be just about the latest he could come.”

  “Well, we’ll make it the nineteenth. Why not? That will suit us just as well.”

  “I feel sure that will be all right,” said Aunt Hester. “But you’ll understand if we have to cancel. These times are so uncertain.”

  “But of course,” said my mother.

  My mother decided that it should be a very small party. “Really a family affair. I daresay both Uncle Gerald and Major Merrivale have had enough of functions…in their positions. I shall ask Miss Carruthers and Andrée to join us. After all, they were members of the group and I am sure Major Merrivale would like to know that they are safely settled.”

  I was looking forward to it with pleasure and, I have to admit, with a certain amount of excitement. Marcus Merrivale had been in my thoughts a great deal. He was the kind of man who left a deep impression.

  I was afraid that the party might be canceled. My mother said we must be prepared for that. Wars made everything uncertain.

  However, the nineteenth arrived and there was Marcus Merrivale with Uncle Gerald and Aunt Hester. Marcus looked just as he had during the journey across France.

  He took both my hands. “Miss Lucinda! What a pleasure to see you! And Miss Carruthers and Mademoiselle Latour. Well, this is a gathering of the clan, is it not?”

  My father said, “I don’t how we are ever going to thank you, Major. What you did…”

  “It was nothing but pleasure all the way, I do assure you.”

  “I knew Marcus would pull it off,” said Uncle Gerald. “He was just the man for the job.”

  “Well, come along in,” said my mother. “I only hope you are not going to be called away. One never knows at times like this with you military people. Anything can happen from hour to hour.”

  My mother had arranged that the major should sit on her right hand and I was next to him. Uncle Gerald was between Miss Carruthers and Andrée.

  My parents asked the major a lot of questions about the journey, most of which I had already answered; and again my mother thanked him for what he had done. He replied again that it had been a pleasure.

  “A change from my usual duties,” he added. “And you know how we all love a change. By the way,” he added, “how is Master Edouard faring? Has he deigned to accept his new home?”

  “With supreme indifference,” replied my mother. “Lucinda will tell you all about him. He is her favorite topic. By the way, we call him Edward now. We thought it best to anglicize him.”

  “What an excellent idea!” He turned to me. “I am so glad Mademoiselle is with you. She is so happy.” He smiled across at her.

  “Oh, I am,” she said fervently.

  My father was talking to Aunt Hester about her sons, Harold and George. George had been going into the army in any case, but Harold had immediately joined up. “Of course, he is rather young,” said Aunt Hester.

  “We’re going to need all the men we can get,” said Marcus, and then the talk turned to the war.

  After dinner, when we had all retired to the drawing room, Marcus was beside me once more.

  He asked about Annabelinda. I told him she was in Hampshire with her family and, as he had joined the army, I had not seen her brother since my return to England.

  “He’s training on Salisbury Plain,” I added.

  “It must be the Royal Field Artillery.”

  “Yes, it is. I expect he’ll come and see us as soon as he can.”

  “He’s a favorite of yours, is he?”

  “Oh, yes. He’s one of the nicest people I know.”

  He nodded. “I did not expect to see Miss Carruthers here tonight.”

  “She is going to teach me. My parents think I need a governess for a while.”

  “Yes, of course. You are very young.” He grinned at me. “Don’t be downcast on that account. It is something which will quickly be rectified, you know.”

  “I suppose you will be going away soon?”

  “At any moment, by the look of things.”

  “I heard the Germans were close to Mons. How close…do you know?”

  “Only that it is too close.”

  “It’s hateful. I can’t stop thinking of Madame Rochère. What will she do? She will be so haughty and unrelenting.”

  “I daresay she will have to submit to the conquerors. She would have been wise to get away.”

  “I can’t believe she will ever leave La Pinière of her own free will. Just imagine how it must be for her! Losing her home.”

  “Still, better than losing one’s life.”

  I was somber and he put a hand over mine. “Don’t be sad, Miss Lucinda. I hate to see you sad.”

  “It’s a sad time for so many.”

  “Nothing is entirely bad, you know. There is always some little bit of good lurking among the troubles. Just think! But for all this, we should never have met.”

  I smiled at him and he went on. “I hope you will think of this meeting as one of the good things in all this.”

  “My mother has told you many times how grateful we all are to you, so I won’t repeat it. But I mean it just the same.”

  “You overrate what I did. Never mind. I like it. I shall take the first opportunity of coming to see you again.”

  “Oh…shall you?”

  “It is what I shall look forward to most.”

  “What of your family?”

  “Ask me what you want to know.”

  “Where do they live? Have you a big family? Have you a wife?”

  “Sussex. Parents, brother and sister. Not yet.”

  I laughed. “You�
��re very laconic.”

  “You asked for answers and you got them.”

  “Why did you say ‘not yet’ about being married? It sounds as though you might soon.”

  “I shall have to wait until I find the perfect woman…and then would she have me?”

  “I feel sure she would.”

  “Nothing is sure in this life, but it is nice of you to say so. I fear the perfect woman would look for a perfect man.”

  “When people are in love, the ones they love seem perfect in their eyes.”

  “How comforting. But the imperfections come to light later. Perhaps after all, perfection is a sort of compromise.”

  “Are you a little cynical?”

  “Me? Never for a moment. I am a romantic. An optimist. Probably a very unwise man.”

  “Well, I hope you find the perfect woman.”

  “I shall. Even if I have to wait until she grows up a little.”

  He was looking at me, smiling, lifting his eyebrows a little in a quizzical way. I was disconcerted but happy.

  Andrée was coming toward us.

  “Major Merrivale,” she said. “I have heard the Germans are advancing across Belgium and that they are almost at the borders of France. Is it true?”

  “It is not wise to listen to rumors, Mademoiselle Latour. But I fear the advance is rapid.”

  “Shall you be going overseas again soon?”

  “In a few days, I expect.”

  “How I wish it were all over!”

  “You can be sure we are all with you in that.”

  Miss Carruthers joined us.

  “It has been such a pleasure to see you, Major Merrivale,” she said. “I shall never forget how you looked after us.”

  “Like the good shepherd,” added Andrée.

  “Don’t say that,” I protested with a laugh. “It makes us all sound like sheep. I always think that ‘shepherd’ in that respect is not a very good analogy. After all, the shepherd looks after the sheep to prepare them for the slaughter house.”

  “Some die of old age,” said Miss Carruthers.

  “But even they are kept just for their wool.”

  “What about the Pied Piper?” suggested Miss Carruthers, with a rare look of roguishness.

 

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