“Why do you hate me so much, Hil?”
She appeared to think about it for a time and then shrugged. “I don't know. …” And then she looked at him sadly. “Maybe because you've always reminded me of what I'm not. You wanted something that I never had to give.” It was a truth he had only recently accepted. “You gave me too much. You stifled me from the first moment we met. You should have married some sweet little schoolteacher who would give you eight children.”
“That wasn't what I had in mind. I loved you.” He looked tired and sad. It was all over between them.
“But you don't anymore, do you?” It was a question she had to ask. She had to know. It was her final ticket to freedom.
Slowly he shook his head. “No, I don't. It's better for both of us like this.”
She nodded. “Yes, it is.” And then she took a deep breath and walked to the door. “I'll go see Johnny now. How soon do we leave?”
“As soon as I can arrange it.”
“Are you coming with us, Nick?” She watched him as she asked, and regretfully he shook his head.
“I can't for a while. But I'll come home as soon as I can.” She nodded and left the room, and he walked quietly to the window and stared out at the garden.
n the night of September 6, Armand and Liane shared a light dinner she warmed for him at midnight. All Armand wanted was some soup and a piece of bread. He was too exhausted to eat. He had had an endless day of frantic meetings. The news from Poland was worse than ever, though thankfully Warsaw had not yet fallen. According to reports, the situation was critical and the Poles were facing mass extermination. Liane watched Armand's face now and she saw the grief there, and the years, and the concern for his own country.
“Liane … there's something I want to tell you.” She wondered what grim bit of news he would impart. It seemed as though that's all there was now.
“Yes?”
“The Aquitania, a British ship, docked in Southampton last night, and she will make one more trip back to the States, where they're going to convert her to carry troops. And when she sails”—he almost choked on the words—“I want you and the girls on her.” She sat and listened to him in total silence, and he watched her. For a moment there was no reaction, and then slowly she shook her head.
She sat up very straight and looked him in the eye. “No, Armand, we're not going.”
For an instant it was his turn to be startled into silence.
“Are you mad? France is at war. You must go back. I want to know that you and the girls are safe.”
“On an English ship, with the Atlantic probably crawling with U-boats? They sank the Athenia, why not this ship?”
Armand shook his head. The horrors they were hearing out of Warsaw were too fresh in his mind. He would not allow his wife and girls to stay in France to fight the Germans.
“You must not argue with me.” But he was too tired to say much more, and he met in Liane a resolve he had never anticipated.
“We are not going. The girls and I are staying here with you. We discussed it as soon as war was announced. There are other women and children here. Why should we go?”
“Because it's safer for you in the States. Roosevelt has insisted that he will not enter this war.” That much wasn't news, and Liane heard it again with disgust.
“Have you no faith in France? It will not fall like Czechoslovakia or Poland.”
“And if they drop bombs, which they surely will, do you want to be here with the girls, Liane?”
“Others lived through it in the last war.” He was so tired he was almost ready to fall asleep at the table, and she was too determined to stay. He couldn't fight her. They talked about it again the next morning, the moment he awoke, but she was even more immovable then. She ignored almost everything he said, and as he prepared to leave for the office at seven thirty, she looked at him for a last time with her gentle smile. “I love you, Armand. My place is here with you. Don't ask me again. I won't go.”
He watched her eyes for a long moment. “You're an extraordinary woman, Liane, but I knew that before. You still have the choice. You should get back to the States while you can.”
“I have nothing there. My home is here with you.”
There were tears in his eyes as he bent to kiss her goodbye. She had moved him more than she ever had before. She was as brave as any of them in Poland. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” She spoke in a whisper as she kissed him, and then he was gone. She knew that she wouldn't see him again until after midnight that night, and that he would return almost stumbling with exhaustion, but at least it was for a good cause now. The country was at war. And she was staying. She would always stand by him.
re you ready to go?” Johnny nodded with big sad eyes, his puppy in his arms, and his nurse beside him. “Do you have your baseball bat in your trunk?” The child nodded again, the tears sliding down his face at last. And his father pulled him close. “I know, Son … I know … I'm going to miss you too … but it's only for a little while.” He clenched his teeth and prayed that what he said was true. But he couldn't go back yet. He couldn't desert their interests in Europe. “But I don't want to go home without you, Dad.” “It's just for a little while … I promise. …” He looked at Hillary over the child's head, and she was strangly quiet. Their bags were waiting in the hall. This time there was no second carload of trunks. They had been told that they could each bring two bags. The ship was loaded to the gills, and it was not going to be a luxurious journey, although the passenger list was sure to be impressive. Hundreds of wealthy American tourists had been trapped abroad and they had besieged their embassies in desperation to get home. All the British and French sailings scheduled for September had been canceled. The Normandie had reached New York on August 28, and had been cabled by her owners to remain in New York for safekeeping. The American ships had canceled their schedules as well, and Ambassador Kennedy in London was going mad, cabling frantically that there were an army of American tourists stranded abroad, and ships had to be sent for them. Accordingly, the Washington, Manhattan, and President Roosevelt were all on their way, but no one knew when, and the Aquitania was the only ship with a certain sailing date. And this would be her last journey before being pressed into military service.
The dangers of this last crossing were well-known to all, with terrifying tales of German U-boats on the high seas, but due to her structure, she was less vulnerable to underwater attack than most of the others. And she had made her last crossing by zigzagging handsomely across the Atlantic, at great speed and in total blackout. The trip back to the States was going to be an interesting journey.
The large black Duesenberg was waiting outside the house on the Avenue Foch and Hillary, Nick, Johnny, and the nurse somberly climbed in. They were driving to Calais, where Nick had rented a large yacht, which would take them to Dover. And he had a car waiting there to take them on to Southampton. The trip was not so much perilous as exhausting, and by the time they reached the dock on the day the ship sailed, Hillary, to her own surprise, was close to tears. She was suddenly terrified that the ship would be sunk at sea and she clung to Nick in a manner most unlike her when they read a warning before passengers boarded the ship. They were all told that they were making the crossing at. their own risk, “on a belligerent ship and were subject to sinking without notice.” It brought the point home in a way nothing else could and the three Burnhams held each other tight for a moment before Nick took them on board. He had been able to get them only one small airless cabin with three beds, a decent one for his wife, and a double bunk for Johnny and the nurse. At least, he noticed, they had their own bathroom.
He stayed with them until the last signal that he had to leave, and then he held Johnny tightly in his arms for an endless moment.
“Be a big boy, tiger, and take care of your mommy for me. And do everything she tells you on the ship. It's very important.”
“Oh, Daddy …” His voice trembled almost as much
as Nick's. “Do you think we'll sink?”
“No, I don't. And I'm going to think good thoughts about you every day. And the minute you get home, Mommy is going to cable me.”
“What about my puppy?” She was trembling under the bed. Johnny had hidden her to get her on the ship. They had been told no pets, but knowing the English's soft heart for dogs, he knew that nothing would happen once she was discovered. “What'll I do with my puppy if we sink?”
“You won't. Just hold on to her real tight and keep her in your life vest.” It was a hideous thought, and he held on to Johnny's hand as he stood up to look at his wife. “Take care of yourself, Hil … and John….”He glanced down at their son, who was crying openly as he looked up at his father.
“I will, Nick. Take care of yourself over here.” And then, with a gulp, she hugged him. “Come back soon.” In the last moments on board the hatred between them seemed to dispel. This was no time for that. The possibility that they might never see each other again occurred to all three of them, and the nurse was almost hysterical as she sat sobbing on her bunk. It was going to be quite a trip, Nick knew, as he left them. He only prayed that the Aquitania would make it safely.
And he stood alone on the deck, waving frantically to the ship, until he could see them no more, and then when it was too far for his son to see, he dropped his face into his hands and began to sob. A workman on the dock coughed softly as he walked past him, and he stopped to pat Nick's shoulder.
“She'll be all right, mate … she's a great ship, she is. … I came over with her from New York … moves like the wind, she does … the krauts won't be able to touch her.” Nick nodded, grateful for the encouraging words, but he was unable to answer. He felt as though his very life and soul had set sail on the ship. He went inside the lounge for a drink of water, and saw the manifest posted on the wall. As though it would bring Johnny closer to him again, he looked at the list and saw them there. “Burnham, Mrs. Nicholas … Burnham, Master John …” The nurse was listed farther down, and then he felt his heart turn to ice as he read the name “Markham, Mr. Philip.”
he normal number of passengers accommodated on the Aquitania was 3,230 with a crew of 972, but for this last voyage, as much furniture as possible had been removed, and extra beds put in. They were carrying an additional 400 people. The accommodations were more than cramped, and there were several families traveling like Hillary and Johnny, cramped into one room, when they normally have had two or three cabins or a suite. But this trip was entirely different. Dinner was served at four and five in the afternoon, and by nightfall everything was in total blackout. The passengers were urged to be in their rooms by then, so as to avoid accidents in the corridors. The windows were painted black all over the ship, and the passengers were requested to use the bathrooms without turning on the lights, a circumstance everyone seemed to get used to. There were a vast number of Americans on board, and English too, and the British appeared particularly calm, coming to dinner in black tie every night, as though nothing were amiss, as they discussed the war news.
As for the ship itself, what was left intact still had the aura of elegant Victorian drawing rooms, and it was an odd contrast to the notices on the walls, instructing passengers what to do in case of attack by a German U-boat.
By the second day out John had seemed to calm down, enough so that Hillary felt she could introduce him to Philip Markham. She explained that he was an old friend from New York, and she had run into him on the ship, but as Hillary and Philip talked, Johnny watched them with open suspicion. And the next morning, when he saw them together on one of the promenade decks, he told his nurse, “I hate that man.” She scolded him soundly, but he didn't care, and that night he said much the same to his mother. She slapped him soundly across the face, and he looked at her without a tear. “I don't care what you do to me. When I grow up, I'm going to live with my daddy.”
“And don't you think I am too?” Her hands were still shaking but she tried to control her voice. The child was much too smart for his own good, and she was glad that he couldn't tell Nick. She wondered if he had seen them kissing. She had been in her own bed every night, though not by choice. There were three other men in Philip's cabin. “What do you mean you're going to live with your daddy? So am I.”
“No, you're not. I'll bet you're going to live with him.” He refused to even say his name, or acknowledge Philip when they met.
“That's a stupid thing to say.” But it was precisely what she and Philip had been discussing lately. She wasn't at all sold on Nick's idea that they had to stay married forever, and if she could get him to agree to a divorce when he got back, or if she could get grounds to sue him, she would, and marry Philip. “I don't want to hear you say that again.” And she didn't. He scarcely spoke to his mother again on the trip. He stayed with his nurse, and spent most of the time playing with his puppy in the cabin. It was a long, tiresome journey for them all, following a zigzag course, and with the nightly blackouts. It took them longer than usual to reach New York, and when at last they did, Hillary hoped she never saw a ship again, and she had never been so grateful to be in New York in her life, although she stayed there for only a few days before taking Johnny up to Boston to stay with her mother.
“Why do I have to stay here? Aren't we going home?” Johnny didn't understand why he had to stay with his grandmother.
“I am. And I'm going to get the apartment ready in New York.” It had been closed for four months, and she claimed that she had a lot of work to do to get it ready. But two weeks later his grandmother registered him in a school in Boston. She said that it was just for a little while, so he wouldn't miss too much school while his mother was getting the apartment ready. But he overheard his grandmother talking after that. It had been her idea to put him in school. She had no idea when Hillary was going to come back for him, and she seemed to be stalling. Johnny knew why, though he kept silent. She was probably with that man … Mr. Markham. … He was going to write to his father about it and tell him, but something told him that that wouldn't be such a good idea. His dad might get too worried. It would be better to tell him when he saw him. And in the last letter he'd gotten from his dad, Nick told him that he would come home as soon as he could, probably right after Christmas. It seemed like a long time to Johnny, but Christmas was only two months away, his father reminded him in the letter.
It was a lonely life for Johnny with his grandmother. She was elderly and nervous. Johnny was just glad that she had let him bring his puppy with him.
It was a week after Nick had written the last letter to Johnny that he ran into Armand and Liane at a small dinner party given by the American consul. It was the first time Armand and Liane had been out in months, and everyone seemed to have aged considerably over the summer. Liane was wearing a very pretty long black satin dress, but she looked very tired. The strain was telling on them all, although on the surface Paris was very calm. But everyone was still grieving over the surrender of Warsaw a month before. The Poles had fought valiantly until the end, but the Soviets had attacked them from the east on the seventeenth of September, and on the twenty-eighth it was all over, despite all their efforts, including Nick's steel. Their sister city of the east had fallen.
“How have you been?” Nick found himself sitting next to Liane at dinner, with Armand at the other end of the table. And Nick thought Armand looked ten years older than he had on the ship in June. He had been working fifteen and eighteen hours a day and it showed. Armand looked like an old man now, and he had just turned fifty-seven.
“We're all right.” Liane spoke very softly. “Armand has been burning the candle at both ends and in the middle.” She saw the ravages too, but there was no help for that. He would push himself until he dropped, for the love of his country. It left her alone with the girls almost all the time, but she accepted that too. She had no choice now. And she was doing volunteer work for the Red Cross. There wasn't much she could do yet, but it was something. They were helping to ship
vast numbers of German and Eastern European Jews out through France, and at least she knew she was helping to save some lives. They were going to South America and the United States, and Canada and Australia. “How's my friend John?” She smiled at Nick now.
“He's all right. I'm not entirely sure where he is though.” Nick had expected him to be in New York, but the letter he had gotten from Johnny had said that he was with his grandmother in Boston, probably for a visit, to reassure her that he was all right.
But Liane looked confused. “Isn't he here with you?”
Nick shook his head. “They sailed on the Aquitania in September, on her last trip over. Actually, what I meant was that I thought he was in New York, but he appears to be in Boston with my mother-in-law.”
“You sent him alone?” Liane looked shocked. It was the ship that Armand had tried to get her to sail on.
“No, his mother went too. I didn't want them over here anymore. I feel better knowing that they're in the States.” Liane nodded. It made sense even though it hadn't been what she had wanted. She suspected however that Hillary Burnham had been only too happy to go. She had heard the rumors about Philip Markham. The international community in Paris was small and inbred and very loquacious. But Liane looked at Nick now, wondering how he was faring. He looked tired too, although not as much as Armand. She remembered their last conversation on the ship and wondered how his life had been since then. It seemed a thousand years ago since they had all come over, and it had only been four months since then.
“And how are you doing?”
Crossings Page 17
