He raised his shoulders in a helpless gesture.
Nicole said: “You know I won’t leave you and Kendal.”
The Baron shrugged his shoulders.
“Then there is nothing more I can do. Adieu, ladies. And may you have better luck than you have good sense.”
With that he was gone.
Nicole sat down and stared in front other.
“You should have gone with him,” I said.
She shook her head.
“No … I’ll stay here. This is my home. You and the boy are my family.”
“But you think I’m wrong.”
She lifted her shoulders rather as he had done a few moments before.
“It remains to be seen,” she said.
Those September days were strangely unreal hazy in the mornings and when the sun rose the city seemed to be touched with a golden light.
There was tension on the streets as the people waited for news.
The whole of Paris was in revolt against the Emperor whom they declared had betrayed them. It seemed such a short while ago that they had cheered him and his beautiful Empress. Now they despised them. It had been the same with the kings, they said. The Bonapartes behaved as though they were kings and Paris had rejected those flamboyant rulers eighty years before.
I caught a glimpse during those days of what it must have been like in Paris before the Revolution burst upon the city.
When France declared herself to be a Republic once more, there was excitement in the streets. No more kings. No more emperors. This was the people’s land.
But this could not hold back the German advance, and as September neared its end came the final blow. Strasbourg, one of the last strongholds of the French, capitulated to the Germans, whose armies were now marching on Paris.
Then came the terrifying information. The King of Prussia was actually in the Palace of Versailles.
We had for some time begun to feel the strain. Food was fast disappearing from the shops. Nicole had said we must get together what we could. If we had plenty of flour we could at least make bread. And as long as we could we went on buying.
There came a day which I shall never forget. Nicole went out to see what she could buy and while she was gone the bombardment started.
I heard the explosion and wondered what it was. I thought there must be fighting near the outskirts of the city. I was worried about Kendal. I thought then that I should have listened to the Baron. He was right. We should have left Paris.
There was just that one explosion.
Kendal was in the studio doing his lessons with Jeanne. He was using the studio now as I had had no clients for weeks.
I was thinking that Nicole seemed to have been away a long time when I heard the concierge calling me.
I ran down. A boy was there.
“Madame Collison,” he said, ‘will you come at once to the Hopital St. Jacques. A lady there is asking for you. “
“A… lady?”
“Madame St. Giles … She has been hurt. These cursed Germans ..”
I felt sick with fear. The explosion! They were bombarding Paris and I had to go there as fast as I could, but I thought of Kendal.
I said: “Give me a moment. I must tell them I am leaving.”
I called to Jeanne.
“Madame St. Giles has been hurt,” I said briefly.
“I’m going to the hospital. Take care of Kendal while I’m away.”
Jeanne nodded. I could trust her.
Fortunately the hospital was only a few streets away and within a few minutes I was there.
Nicole almost unrecognizable was lying in a bed. She was wrapped in a white robe and there were bloodstains on it.
I threw myself on to my knees and gazed at her.
She recognized me, but I think only just.
“Kate,” she whispered.
“I’m here, Nicole. I came as soon as I could.”
“They’re bombarding Paris. They’re all round us… I was hurrying home to tell you …”
“Should you talk?”
“I must talk, Kate.”
“No,” I said.
“You shouldn’t. Are you all right here? Is there anything I can do? Are you in pain?”
She shook her head.
“I can’t … feel … much. Something’s happened to me.”
“Oh Nicole!” I said and I was overcome with remorse and shame. She should never have been here. She would have gone away with the Baron but for me.
“Kate …”
“Yes?”
She gave me a crooked smile. There was no colour in her face. She looked dead. apart from her eyes.
“I… I want to tell you …”
“You shouldn’t talk.”
“It’s the end… for me. Strange… Shot in a Paris street. I often wondered what my end would be. Now I know.”
“You should try to sleep.”
She smiled.
“I want you to… understand …”
“I understand, my dear friend, that I could never have got through my troubles but for you.” I felt the tears welling into my eyes.
She blinked. I think she was trying to shake her head.
“Him… Kate.”
“Him?”
“He’s safe in his Norman stronghold,” I said.
“Try Kate … Try to understand. He was the one. It was his house . He wanted to make sure that you were all right…”
What was she trying to tell me?
“Don’t fret,” I said.
“Whatever it was doesn’t matter now.”
“Yes … yes …” she murmured.
“Try to understand him, Kate.
There’s good in him . “
I smiled at her and a certain impatience showed itself in her slurred voice.
“He sent me… to find you, Kate. It wasn’t by chance. He wanted to be sure that you were … looked after.”
“You mean that he knew all the time where I was?”
“It was his house. He looked after everything, Kate … paid for everything … arranged about the birth. He has looked after everything since. He sent the people who came for the portraits. You see… he cared, Kate.”
This was too much. It was one shock following on another. He had watched over me then. He had known where I was all the time. He must have guessed there would be a child. He had sent Nicole to look after me . to feign friendship . Oh no, not that. She had been my true friend. But in the beginning he had sent her. The elegant, comfortable house, with its convenient studio had been provided by him. Nicole had reported to him regularly and in time he had come to see his son in the Gardens.
It was a blinding revelation, but somehow it did not seem important with Nicole lying there . dying. Yes, I knew she was dying. She would never come back to us. That bohemian life others, living in elegant salons as mistress of one of the most powerful men in France had ended in a Paris street and here she was in a hospital for the poor.
“Oh Nicole,” I said.
“Dear Nicole, you must get well. You must come back with us.”
She smiled at me and her eyes were already becoming glazed.
“It’s finished,” she said.
“It’s all over. I’ve been too badly hurt. I know it is the end. I’m glad you came, Kate. I had to speak to you .. before I went. Forgive him. There is good in him. You might find it.”
“Don’t talk of him.”
“I must. I must make you see how it was. I loved him… in my way. He loved me … in his way… the light way. Not as he would love you.
You could put the good in him, Kate. Please try. “
“You shouldn’t be thinking of him, Nicole. Please rest. You’re going to get well. How could we get on without you?”
“You forgive me …”
“What is there to forgive? It is you who should forgive me. I kept you here. I should have made you go with him. You knew that was right… and you wanted to. But I wouldn’t go and bec
ause … Oh, Nicole, how can I thank you for all you did for me?”
“He did it.
“No, Nicole, you .. you.”
“Please, Kate.”
She was pleading with me and I knew she was dying.
I nodded my head and saw her expression change. I think then she was at peace.
She closed her eyes. She was breathing with difficulty. I sat on. I fancied my presence comforted her. It must have been half an hour before her breathing changed. She was making rasping noises, trying to get her breath.
I ran out to call someone. I found a nurse and took her to Nicole’s bedside.
Nicole was silent now.
“She was badly hit,” said the nurse.
“She hadn’t a chance.”
Then she closed Nicole’s eyes and put the sheet over her face.
I stumbled out of the hospital. I could not take it in. Nicole dead!
But that morning she had been alive and well. my dearest friend, the one on whom I relied. And now she was gone. and all in an hour or so. Life was harsh, I had reason to know, but that tragedy could come so swiftly had never occurred to me.
“May you have more luck than you have good sense.”
could hear his voice now. He had come for us. He had cared for us . all the time. It had not been friendship which had prompted Nicole to help me in the first place. It had been done on his instructions.
And now Nicole was dead. How could I tell Kendal that he would never see Nicole again? How could I ever forget that but for me she would not have been in Paris. She would be alive at this moment.
The horror of it all burst on me. Shots such as those which had killed Nicole could take any of us at any time. Oh God, I thought. Kendal!
I ran as fast as I could.
The house was still there. I had half expected it to be destroyed.
War. We were at war. I had never thought of being involved in war. Now it had come with all its tragedy, its destruction, its maiming and killings . its breaking up of lives.
I ran into the house calling “Jeanne! Kendal! Quick. Where are you?”
Jeanne came running to me. Her face was white. She was clearly distraught.
“Where is Kendal?” I asked.
She said: “He’s gone … gone to safety. The gentleman in the Gardens”
The room seemed to be spinning round me. I felt sick with apprehension.
“He came just after you’d gone. He said Paris was no place for the boy. He was going to take him away to safety. I tried … but he just took him.”
“And Kendal…”
“He said he wouldn’t go without his mother… but he was picked up carried away …”
I covered my face with my hands. I said: “This can’t be true. He’s taken him to Centeville. I must go after him. Oh Jeanne … Nicole is dead.”
She stared at me.
“I … I’ve been with her,” I stammered.
“And … while I was with her he came and took my son away. Jeanne I must go after him. I know where. Come with me. You can’t stay here. If you could have seen ” How can we get to this place? “
“I don’t know. But we must go at once. Take all the money we can.
There is not a moment to lose. We have to go after him. “
I ran to my room. I gathered together all the money that was in the house. I put on my cloak. Action, desperate action was the best way to live through a situation like this.
I went downstairs. Jeanne was already there.
I cried out: “Come then.”
The door opened and he was standing there the Baron himself, holding Kendal by the hand.
I gave a cry of relief and ran to my son, kneeling and embracing him, clinging to him. He looked bewildered but clearly shared my relief.
“There’s not a moment to lose,” said the Baron.
“You are dressed.
Where is Nicole? Go and tell her. “
I stared at him for a few seconds unable to speak.
“Hurry,” he shouted.
“This city will be under siege in a few hours .. perhaps it is already. Get Nicole … quickly.”
I said: “Nicole is dead. I have just left her.”
“Dead!”
“She is in the hospital. She was hit … by this … bombardment. I stayed with her until she died.”
He was stunned. I had never seen him moved by emotion before.
“Nicole … dead …” I heard him murmur.
“You … you’re sure?”
“I have just left her. That’s where I was. They sent for me …”
I turned away from him.
I heard him say: “She was a good woman … the best…” And then he recovered himself.
“Come on. There’s no time to lose.” He looked at jeanne
“You too. You can’t stay here.”
We went into the streets. There was hardly anyone about. The bombardment had sent them all scurrying into their houses.
He said: “I have horses nearby. We’ll get away from here as fast as we can. Come now. Every minute is important.”
We were at the top of the street when I heard the second explosion of the day.
I think that was the worst moment of my life. A building beside us had been struck. Time appeared to slow down. I saw it stagger like a drunken man; then it started to crumble . slowly, and the facade seemed to slither to the ground. I saw . disaster. Kendal was staring up at it as though mesmerized. I heard the Baron shout at him.
The boy turned but was too late to move before there was a violent rumbling and the air was full of blinding dust.
Kendal was sprawling on the ground. I knew that that pile of bricks and rubble was about to fall on him. I ran . but the Baron was ahead of me. It was too late to pick up the boy . so he threw himself on top of him for protection.
I screamed. I could see nothing for a second or so because of the blinding dust.
“Kendal,” I called desperately.
Then I was kneeling beside them tearing off the rubble.
There was blood on the Baron’s leg. I kept calling Kendal.
Kendal crawled out and stood before me. I felt a crazy joy because he appeared to be unhurt.
But the Baron was lying there among the bricks and the dust. still and silent.
Jeanne, Kendal and I knelt down in the dust beside the Baron. His leg seemed to be twisted under him. He was unconscious and I thought that he was dead. Strange emotions swept over me. I had seen death once that morning. But it could not happen to the Baron. Never the Baron. He was indestructible.
“We must get help at once,” I said to Jeanne.
Jeanne stood up. People were now coming out of their houses to see what damage had been done. We called to them and soon there was a little group around us. I could not take my eyes from him lying there, inert, blood on his clothes, his usually fresh coloured face deathly pale, his eyes closed. I was conscious of a terrible emptiness.
Nicole, my dear friend had gone for ever and that was a sadness which would haunt my life. But I could not imagine a life without the Baron, to remember, to revile, to hate.
Someone had brought out a ladder and they put him on it using it as a stretcher. They could take him to the hospital they said.
I replied on impulse: “Bring him to my house. I can look after him there. And go and get a doctor … quickly … quickly …”
He was carried into the house. Kendal clung to my hand.
“Is he dead?” he asked.
“No,” I answered fiercely.
“No… he can’t be dead. Not the Baron.”
That was the beginning of the siege of Paris, the most tragic and humiliating period of that great city’s history.
I gave little thought to the war during the next day. My mind was solely on my patient. The doctor had come. Part of the bone in the Baron’s right leg had been crushed. He might be able to walk again perhaps with the aid of a stick. His vital organs were undamaged and strong and t
he loss of blood and the shock had not been too great for him; he would recover and be able to resume a restricted way of life.
I sat by his bed throughout that first night. He was unconscious then and we were at that time uncertain how much damage had been done. I was glad they had not taken him into the hospital. They had other victims of the bombardments there and were preparing for a rush of casualties so there was no pressure to send him. I said I could nurse him with the help of jeanne and the doctor was only too glad that I should do so.
He showed me how to dress the leg. The wound appalled me. There was considerable pain, I knew, but the Baron bore that with the fortitude I would expect of him.
I had, with Jeanne's help, moved the beds down so that we were all on one floor and not too far from each other. I had a terrible fear that I might be separated from Kendal.
Every sound made us start for we feared that the bombardment would begin again, but it did not and the streets were quiet.
It was a strange night that first one sitting by his bed. I could not believe that only the night before I had slept in my bed with Nicole in her room and Kendal safe in his.
My great fear was for Kendal. I lived again and again that terrible moment when I had thought the building was going to collapse on him.
And, if the Baron had not thrown himself upon him, if he had not protected him . my small child would surely have been crushed to death.
It was strange what I owed this man. All my humiliation, my subjection and now. my son’s life.
I kept hearing Nicole’s voice.
“There is good in him. You can find it.
Yes, I had found something good already. He had come to take us away . risking his life to do so, as it was now proved. He had saved my son’s life.
I sat there through the darkness of the night. I did not light a candle. Nicole had said some days before that we must preserve the candles . we must preserve everything. There was certain to be a shortage.
So I sat there and watched the dawn come while I looked down on the contours of his sleeping face. A certain colour had returned to it and it no longer had that look of death on it. He was breathing more easily. I knew that he would live and I felt a great gladness in my heart.
I closed my eyes and I thought: Too much is happening in too short a time. Death is always close, I suppose, but at times like this it comes nearer. Nicole had always seemed so alive . and then suddenly, walking along a street, she is struck down . and that is the end. And the Baron! It could so easily have happened to him.
The Demon Lover Page 25