by Francis King
She knew that she would never see him again. Perhaps that was the reason for that at first terrible and eventually strangely comforting dream that had ended in death. They were now dead to each other. But she, if not he, was like a butterfly about to emerge from its chrysalis into an existence totally different from what it had so far known. Death for her was also life.
That evening, one of the hotel servants came over to her in one of the hotel drawing-rooms with an envelope on a silver salver. He bowed and said: ‘The American gentleman left this for mademoiselle.’ Harriet watched, eyes narrowed, as Alexine took the envelope off the salver and, with trembling hands, opened it.
All that the envelope contained was a stained, tattered map. The map was of Africa, and for that reason whole areas of it were blank. Across the top, in bold, irregular capital letters, he had written: Here be monsters. Zigzagging the map were what at first seemed to be the fine, random scratchings of a pen in red ink. Then she saw that, at the place where the map showed Alexandria, there was an arrow, beside which he had scrawled: My journey started here. There were other, smaller arrows, leading her gaze on an erratic, zigzag course, often doubling and redoubling on itself, south and west. An insect might have crawled there, leaving its trail. But this was the trail of a man.
‘What is it?’ Harriet asked.
‘Oh, just an old map. Colonel Scott and I were talking of his travels and he said he’d show me one. He must have forgotten, and so now here it is.’
She attempted to keep her voice flat and indifferent. But she knew that her mother and Nanny Rose were not fooled. Eventually she would show the map to Harriet and tell her of her dreams – not merely that one of the previous night, already half obliterated, but also that other, which would now remain with her forever. But for the present she merely folded up the map and then placed it in her reticule.
‘You’re crushing it, dear,’ Nanny Rose warned, having watched what Alexine was doing. Then she said: ‘He was a rum character, that one, and no mistake.’
Alexine laughed. ‘Well, for that matter, I’m a rum character too.’
Chapter Five
AT THE NEWLY BUILT STATION IN VIENNA, they waited in their reserved, first-class carriage for the luncheon basket that ought to have been delivered. Alexine had insisted that not merely Nanny Rose but also Daan travel with them, rather than in a second-class carriage by themselves.
‘He’d be far happier on his own,’ Harriet had said. ‘It’ll only embarrass him.’
‘People are never happier if they’re uncomfortable.’
‘Oh, yes, they are,’ Addy put in. ‘Look at me. I was far happier in the discomfort of that shack – sleeping on straw, devoured by fleas, my stomach rumbling with hunger – than I’d have been in the luxury of your hotel.’
Now Addy was leaning out of the window, scanning the crowded platform. Then she saw the trolley with the wicker baskets piled on them. ‘Here! Here!’ she shouted in German. The man paid no attention to her as he lethargically pushed the trolley in the opposite direction. With an inarticulate exclamation of annoyance, she flung open the carriage door and jumped out.
‘Let Daan go!’ Harriet called after her.
But Addy paid no attention. In recent years she had rarely shown such decisiveness and energy.
‘If she’s not careful she’ll miss the train,’ Nanny Rose said. She was terrified of this new-fangled contraption. Why couldn’t they travel in a civilized way, by coach?
Addy eventually returned, followed by the attendant with the basket, and almost at once there was the long, thin screech of the station master’s whistle and the carriage jerked forward, all but toppling her over. The attendant leapt off, clutching the coin, a tip far larger than any he had ever received in all his years in the business, handed to him by Alexine.
‘Addy, that was extremely silly of you. You might have missed the train.’
‘Well, at least we haven’t missed our luncheon.’
‘Why didn’t you let Daan go?’
‘Because I’m much quicker than he is.’
Nanny Rose said nothing, but she pursed her lips and frowned in disapproval. She was by now used to Alexine’s unseemly behaviour, but Addy’s had surprised her. Had that peculiar doctor put ideas into her head? In the past she had always been every inch the lady.
Harriet had difficulty in persuading Daan to eat any of the contents of the basket. ‘Oh, no, madam, thank you very much. I’m not at all peckish. Really.’ But Harriet insisted. When he ate, he did so with his head turned aside, away from them, in the direction of the window beside him, so that they could not see him gnawing at a chicken leg held between thumb and forefinger.
‘What about some wine?’ Alexine asked him, bottle in hand. It must have been chilled before being put in the basket, it was so cold to the touch even on that day of summer heat.
‘Oh, no, thank you, no,’ he said, flustered. ‘Just a little water. That’s all I need. I never partake of liquor.’
Daan had the reputation of from time to time helping himself to a glass of sherry or even Dutch gin. About this, Philip had never reproached him; and, after Philip’s death, Harriet had carried on the same benevolent tradition.
‘Well, it’ll be good to get home again,’ Nanny Rose said. Home to her had long since become the house in The Hague. She now rarely thought of England, and even more rarely corresponded with anyone there. ‘Wouldn’t you like to come with us?’ Harriet had suggested when she and Alexine had last travelled to Philip’s sons in England. ‘You could visit your family.’ Nanny Rose had considered for a moment. Then she had shaken her head. ‘Oh, no, ma’am. It’s kind of you to suggest it, but I’d really be happier to stay on here at home. Unless you really want me with you,’ she added, as always punctilious in her desire to fulfil her duty.
‘Yes, it’ll be good to get home again,’ Harriet echoed, as she bit into a piece of bread liberally spread with butter. She no longer cared that she was getting so fat, her arms cylindrical except at the still tiny wrists, her once shapely neck now disfigured by two sagging dewlaps, so that over recent years she had had to have many of her choker necklaces lengthened.
‘Will it?’ Addy shook up sharply. ‘ Oh, I wish I felt that! But I don’t. I hate the thought of returning to that place.’
The other three women stared at her in consternation. Then, ‘Aren’t you happy in the house?’ Harriet asked.
‘Oh, don’t sound so offended! I’m not complaining. You’ve made me think of it as my home, you’ve been wonderful to me. But … but …’ She gazed out of the window beside her, lips parted. Then she turned and said: ‘Is happiness what one wants?’ None of them answered. ‘I don’t know that it’s what I want,’ she continued. ‘I thought it was, but now I’m not sure.’
‘Is that a result of your cure?’ Harriet’s tone was acid.
Addy nodded. ‘Yes. In part. I spent a lot of my time thinking when I was not doing disagreeable things like digging and weeding and haring up and down hillsides. I don’t want life merely to make polite requests of me – which I’m at liberty to refuse, if I want to. I want it to make demands. Yes, demands. That’s what it did during those days of the cure. And it was a cure. At last I feel well, really well, again. I want to be stretched. Even if it’s on a rack.’
Harriet stared at her, frowned and shook her head. This was not a suitable conversation for Nanny Rose and Daan to hear, she was attempting to indicate.
‘Oh, I know exactly how you feel!’ Alexine suddenly cried out. ‘That’s why I’ve reached my decision!’
Harriet jerked round from Addy. ‘Your decision? What are you talking about?’
‘Soon – very soon – I’m going to travel. The world’s so large and I’ve seen so little of it.’
‘You’ve seen a great deal of it for someone of your age,’ Harriet said.
‘I don’t want to sit. I must get moving.’
‘And where are you proposing to move?’ Again Harriet wished that th
is conversation could be terminated until the three of them were alone together.
‘Africa.’
‘Africa!’
Alexine nodded.
‘Oh, I can see where this idea’s come from! It’s from that vulgar man – that bogus colonel.’
‘Yes.’ Alexine was irritatingly calm. She paused in thought. ‘Is he vulgar, is he bogus? What does that matter? He’s a hero.’
‘A hero!’
‘Yes, a hero. He’s gone to places where no other white man has gone.’
‘Who wants to go to such places?’
‘I do.’
‘Oh, don’t be so silly. A woman can’t go off on that sort of journey. It’s out of the question.’ But even as she spoke, Harriet was suddenly thinking: Why not, why not?
‘Most women aren’t free to do so. I am. I have that freedom. Father’s money has given me that freedom.’
Harriet stared at her with panicky eyes, Addy with a dawning admiration.
‘You could go to Cairo,’ Nanny Rose said, in an attempt to defuse the situation. ‘ You remember that Nanny Gilbert went there the winter before last with her family. Mr Van Zwannenberg needed the climate for his lungs and the whole family went with him. You could do that. Nanny Gilbert said it was beautiful, really beautiful. They’ve recently built this luxury hotel.’
‘Oh, I want to go much further than Cairo,’ Alexine said. ‘But that would certainly be the starting point.’
Suddenly Addy leant forward. ‘ I’ll come with you. May I? Yes?’
Alexine considered it. Then she said: ‘Why not?’
At that moment, with a swish and rattle, the train plunged into a long tunnel. In the darkness, they all sat silent.
When at last they emerged into a sudden, punishing glare, Harriet raised a hand to her face. ‘And what about me?’ she asked. She felt her eyes watering and was not sure whether it was because of the glare or the imminence of tears.
‘Well, mother, you could come too! Why not? Oh, do, do! It’ll be such fun. Please! Please!’
‘Fun’s the last thing it’s likely to be. But – but I can hardly let my only child go off to places like that on her own.’
Again they entered a tunnel, even longer than the previous one. Again they sat in silence in the darkness.
When everything in the carriage was once again glittering in sunlight, Harriet was smiling. ‘I’ve always wanted an adventure,’ she said. ‘One adventure before I die.’
‘You’re not going to die,’ Addy said. ‘None of us is going to die. We’re going to have fun and be free.’
Chapter Six
‘WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH THE DOGS?’
Sophie asked. She had been watching Alexine comb one of them, an asthmatic Pekinese.
‘Take them, of course.’
‘All of them?’
‘All of them. We may be away for a year, two years. It would be terrible if I came back and found that, while I was away, one of them had died.’
‘In that sort of climate, they may die more quickly than if they stayed here. They won’t be used to such heat.’
‘Well, at least I’ll be with them when that happens.’
Sophie got up from her chair and knelt beside Alexine, as she continued to groom the Pekinese. ‘Alexine. I’ve been thmking. Thinking a lot.’ She hesitated.
‘Yes?’
‘I want to come with you.’
Alexine was at a loss for an answer. She knew that Sophie, so sweet and so soft, lacked the steel for the journey. But she was her closest friend, and what was more natural than to take one’s closest friend as one’s companion on one’s journey of a lifetime?
‘Oh, no, Sophie! It’s not your sort of thing. You … you …’ How could she say it? You’re not strong enough, stoical enough, resourceful enough … ‘I mean, I’d love to have you with me, but … You’ve no idea what it’s going to be like.’
Sophie misunderstood Alexine’s reluctance. ‘I know that you’re afraid I’ll want to do things my own way. But I won’t, I promise I won’t. I’ll do exactly what you tell me. You’re the leader and of course I’ll obey you in everything. I promise – cross my heart and hope to die.’ She made the gesture. ‘Oh, please, Alexine, please!’
Moved, Alexine thought for a while, the comb poised above the dog, which lay on its back, stumpy legs in air, looking up at her with moist, bulging eyes. Then she said: ‘All right. If your parents agree.’
Sophie let out a squeal of pleasure. ‘Oh, we’re going to have a wonderful time. I know we are! We’ll be the first white women that many of those savages have ever seen. They’ll think that we’re angels – or devils.’
Alexine resumed her combing of the dogs. Sophie felt so much joy, and she herself now felt a leaden depression.
‘I’ve never heard of such nonsense!’ Monsieur Thierry got up from the desk at which he had been working, with such violence that he all but knocked over his chair. ‘Of course you can’t go! Certainly not!’
‘But why, papa, why?’
‘Well, firstly, because I can’t afford it. You know that. You know how short of money we are.’
‘But I don’t need any money. Alexine has money, lots and lots of it. She’s the leader of the expedition, she’s financing it. She told me that.’
‘You’ll need something for your day-to-day expenses. The very rich can be capricious in the way in which they part with their money. But money aside’ – he made a gesture with his white, plump hand, the nails carefully manicured, as though he were dismissing an importunate beggar – ‘I have to think of your reputation. And your mother’s and my reputation,’ he added.
Sophie stared at him, bewildered.
‘You don’t seem to understand, my dear. If Monsieur Thinne were still alive and were going – or if I were going – not that I’d ever dream of doing anything so crazy – it would be an entirely different kettle of fish. But for a group of women to set off alone, unchaperoned … Already people everywhere – the common sort as well as our friends – are talking about the scandal of it. You must know that.’
‘Why should it be a scandal?’ Her voice was small; she herself looked diminished.
‘You can take my word for it that it is. And a scandal is the last thing in which I want you involved. We have to find a suitable match for you. I’ve told you that a number of times. We’re certainly not going to succeed in doing that if we allow you to be one of this extraordinary party.’
‘I want to go,’ she pouted, looking down at the floor; her lips quivered.
‘No doubt. But we can none of us always have what we want.’
It was the same thing that he had said to her when he had severed all connections between her and her impoverished Turkish prince. For days she had pleaded, for even more days she had been prone to sudden attacks of anguished howling. But she had accepted her father’s edict, as she had always done and as she was always to do.
‘Please, papa!’
‘No.’
‘Oh, please!’
‘No!’
Later, she faced the horrendous task (as she viewed it) of breaking it to her beloved Alexine that she would not, after all, be able to accompany her. That Alexine should be relieved, she had never for a moment imagined.
‘What can I do? He says that, if I disobey him, he’ll disown me.’
‘There’s nothing you can do. It’s sad, so sad. But there it is.’ Alexine tried to convey a regret that she did not feel, and to conceal a relief that she did.
‘He never once mentioned all the dangers. I mean, we could drown on the voyage. We could pick up all sorts of horrible diseases. We could be robbed or – or even murdered. All that’s nothing to him. The only thing he cares about is whether the expedition will be respectable or not.’
‘That’s the only thing about which most people care. You saw that piece in the newspaper?’
‘Yes, I did. And I’m sure that papa saw it, although he said nothing about it.’
&nb
sp; ‘You’d think we were going to Africa to open a brothel.’
‘Oh, Alexine.’ Sophie put a hand up to her mouth and laughed behind it. ‘You’re dreadful.’
‘Perhaps when you’ve been married and had children and your husband has conveniently died young, we’ll make another expedition and you can come along then. Why not? You’ll be like mother then. She doesn’t care what anyone says. And nor does Aunt Addy.’
Sophie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I can’t bear to think of life without you.’
‘Oh, you’ll soon forget about me,’ Alexine said briskly.
‘Never! Never! Never!’
That night Sophie lay sleepless in bed. She felt that she had betrayed not merely Alexine but also her own self. If only she had had the courage to defy her father! If only she had continued to argue with him! If only she had threatened to starve herself or poison herself if she did not get her way! When she had acquiesced in never having any further contact with her Turkish prince, she had reproached herself in the same way, with the same self-savaging bitterness. Alexine would not have been so feeble. Alexine would have fought.
Eventually she got out of bed and lit the lamp beside it. Although the night was sultry, she shuddered and shuddered again. Then, from a drawer in the bedside table, she took out the Bible that her former English nanny, a friend of Nanny Rose, had given to her as a farewell present before returning to London. The nanny had been profoundly religious, and she had passed something of that on to her charge.
Her lips moving soundlessly as she sat on the edge of the bed, the Bible on her knees, Sophie read:
And Ruth said Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest I will go, and where thou lodgest I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God; where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried; the Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.
Her knees buckled and the Bible crashed to the floor. She flung herself on to the bed and pressed her face into the pillow, as she let out one stifled wail after another.
