‘Of course you can. Think yourself honoured. The judge wants you to be warm when you’re out this evening.’
She wore the coat and was grateful for it. They had the best box in the theatre and for a short while she forgot her worries in enjoyment of the show. Then, as they were leaving the theatre, they came face to face with Stephanie and Alain in the foyer. The woman’s face froze with rage at the sight of the sable coat, although Alain, totally unaware that anything was amiss, smiled and talked as the four of them moved out of the theatre. Stephanie did not utter a word.
It was mid morning when she made her appearance, storming into the house and going straight to the salon where her father-in-law sat comfortably in his chair, enjoying a hot drink laced with brandy and reading the newspaper. He was feeling tired after the late night and intended to doze when he had finished the last page. Then Stephanie was in the room, slamming the door shut behind her and advancing on him like a goddess of vengeance, her chiffon scarf floating from her throat.
‘How dare you let that servant wear the sable coat!’ Her voice was shrill with temper. ‘She was flaunting it as if she were your mistress! No doubt that is what many people believe! I haven’t said anything before only because Alain asked me not to do so, but your cavorting with a servant has been a source of acute embarrassment to me!’ Briefly her expression was that of anguished martyrdom before it contorted into rage again. ‘You don’t realize how I’ve had to make excuse after excuse for you when people have commented on your being seen together, but those who saw her last night will take you for a joke and know you as a disreputable old rake!’
He let the newspaper drop to the floor and rose to his feet with difficulty to face her, gripping his cane. ‘You have said enough,’ he warned dangerously.
‘Enough? I haven’t even started! Don’t you care anything for the good name of Oinville? Think of Alain! Consider his career! Even a breath of scandal could make clients go elsewhere!’ She began pacing about in her fury, her hands agitated. ‘I knew there would be trouble as soon as I set eyes on that young housekeeper. Personally I doubt there was any marriage, but I know your penchant for lame ducks and in your senility you can’t accept that you’re being fooled. I saw at once that she was out for her own ends and that you would be an easy target, lusting as you do from the helplessness of old age!’
‘She’s young enough to be my great-granddaughter!’ he roared, his whole frame shaking. ‘I’m eighty-eight and respected in this community by all except my own daughter-in-law! Who in his or her right mind would think such evil other than you? My house hasn’t been run better for years and her company has been a comfort to me at times when boredom would have otherwise set in, and I’ve had too many hours on my own since I lost my good health.’
Thin-lipped and with bright spots of rage colouring her cheeks, Stephanie waved her hands in a crossing movement in front of her face to dismiss all he had said. ‘I demand that you get rid of Lisette Decourt at once!’ she spat viciously. ‘I have every right for Alain’s sake to command it. It was bad enough that she came here pregnant and the sooner she has gone the better!’
‘She’s not going! Neither you nor anyone else shall tell me what to do in my own home! Her baby shall be born here and I intend to do everything I can for the child. It will be like having my own grandchild around, something that you have always denied me.’ Then, to deflate her further, he shouted with all the force of his lungs, ‘I might even make the infant my heir!’
It was then that she screamed as if she would never stop.
Gerard was the first to reach the salon, followed by a footman with Lisette hurrying after them. She gave a cry when she saw the judge collapsed on the floor and would have rushed to him, but Stephanie, sobbing and with a handkerchief pressed to her mouth, came running from the room, giving her a great thrust out of the way. Lisette staggered back against the open door, but managed to regain her balance by clutching the doorknob.
Gerard, who had flung himself down on his knees by the judge, shouted at the footman, ‘Run like hell for the doctor!’
Instantly the man turned on his heel with a swirl of his dark coat-tails. Lisette rushed forward. Gerard had started pulling away the judge’s cravat and collar. ‘Upstairs, Lisette! There are pills by the judge’s bedside! Get them!’
She was clumsy on the stairs these days, but she gathered up her skirts and made the best speed that she could. Never before had she been in the judge’s bedroom, but beside the great mahogany bed she could see the bottle and snatched it up.
Yet when she returned to the salon with it she saw it was too late. Gerard knelt dejectedly, holding the judge’s hand, and his voice was choked with emotion. ‘He’s gone, Lisette.’
She covered her face with her hands and wept.
The next few days took on the proportions of a nightmare, all the staff knowing that the prospect of dismissal was hanging over them like a cloud. Gerard, who had formed his own opinion over the judge’s death, confided his thoughts to Lisette.
‘I believe the bitch hit him in her rage. She may even have jerked away his cane and struck him, because why else was it lying half across the room as if it had been flung away?’
Lisette gasped. ‘That’s a terrible accusation!’
‘Yes, but it seems to me that is why he fell as he did and the shock of it all was too much for him. There was still a flicker of life when I first reached him and he murmured something, but I couldn’t catch what he said.’ He shrugged unhappily. ‘Of course there’s no proof, but that is how I’ll always believe the judge died.’
Stephanie, wearing black from head to foot and totally recovered from her hysterics, seemed to be everywhere in the house. Oddly, she ignored Lisette completely, addressing all questions to Gerard and calling on him constantly to do her bidding in one way or another, mostly in the listing of certain antiques and other valuable pieces that she wanted for herself. The sable coat had been removed by her on the first day.
Lisette discussed her own plans with Gerard. She intended to set her path for Lyon at last, but not to cover all the distance at first. Anxious for her baby’s well-being, she wanted to give birth in the care of a highly recommended midwife, Madame Marquet. She had met the woman, whom she had liked immediately and who had declared herself willing to attend her. Then there had come disappointment when the woman had moved to live near her daughter in Nantes. Yet now that presented no problem.
‘I shall take a very small apartment in Nantes and have my baby there,’ Lisette confided to Gerard. ‘Afterwards I’ll travel on to Lyon and make it my home town again.’
‘Good luck to you,’ Gerard said approvingly.
After the funeral Stephanie actually had a smile on her face. To her great relief there had been no recent changes to the judge’s will, which was what she had feared. Alain had inherited all his father’s estate, except for certain bequests to some good causes, and Gerard had been well rewarded for his years as a faithful servant.
Lisette, fully prepared for what was to come, had already packed when Stephanie sent for her. The woman was in the library and turned from scanning the bookshelves as Lisette entered.
‘I want you out of this house in the next five minutes, Madame Decourt,’ Stephanie stated sharply. ‘Your wages are up to date.’ She indicated a packet of money lying on the library table. ‘Don’t expect a reference, because in my view there is absolutely nothing to commend you. Now go!’
Lisette picked up the packet. ‘Goodbye, madame,’ she said with dignity. Then she left the room.
Gerard was waiting in the hall. ‘Is it now?’ he asked sympathetically.
‘Yes,’ she said sadly.
‘I’ll send for a cab.’
Her two valises and a small trunk were loaded on to the vehicle. She had said goodbye to the rest of the staff and it was Gerard who helped her into the cab. He was ready to leave himself, his packed luggage already on the doorstep.
‘Take good care of yourself,’ he said as he close
d the cab door. He did not say to keep in touch, because with the bequest he had received he was going to visit his brother in America and maybe find a valet’s position there. He waved to her as the cab carried her away.
An hour later she was in a corner seat on a train to Nantes, her valises on the racks overhead and her trunk safely stowed in the luggage van. Overcome by exhaustion after all the turmoil of recent days, she was unable to keep from dozing and welcomed the relief of it. She awoke once to find a change of passengers. A bearded man in a bowler hat had gone, as had two other men and a woman with a baby. A young couple was now seated opposite her. Neither looked particularly clean, but the girl gave her a smile, which Lisette acknowledged before she dozed again.
The train had arrived at a halt, one of several on the journey, and the carriage was empty when she sat up, tidying back a tendril of her hair. Physically she felt no better for the rest, but fortunately all she had to do when she arrived in Nantes was to take a cab to an overnight address that Madame Marquet’s daughter had provided. Tomorrow she had only to find the temporary accommodation that she required where she could settle like a broody hen to await her baby’s arrival. She smiled to herself at the comparison and sat back comfortably to stay awake for the rest of the journey. It was then that she saw that the strings of her purse were no longer wound around her gloved wrist.
A quake of shock went through her. It must have slipped off as she slept and was on the floor! Heedless of her immaculate skirt, she fell to one knee and peered under the seat, but there was no sign of her purse. Heaving herself up again, she looked upwards in panic at the racks and saw her valises were no longer there. A porter had opened the door, but seeing no baggage he had hurried on.
‘I’ve been robbed!’ she cried from the open doorway, her suspicions going to the young couple who had been alone with her. Stepping down from the train, she looked searchingly about her for sight of them among the milling passengers, but they were nowhere to be seen. For all she knew they could have left the train two or three halts ago. In desperation she caught hold of the sleeve of a passing porter.
‘Yes, madame?’
‘I fell asleep and woke up to find I’ve been robbed!’ she exclaimed, her voice shaking. ‘My purse! My hand luggage!’
He was not unsympathetic. ‘It happens, madame. It’s best you report the theft to the police straight away.’
‘But my destination is Nantes.’
‘You can continue your journey afterwards.’
‘I have a trunk in the luggage van.’
‘I’ll get it. Give me the ticket for it.’
She answered faintly. ‘It was in my purse.’
‘I’ll see if it is still there.’ He led her to a seat and then went off to the luggage van. Doors were slamming and last minute passengers were hurrying to get on. Even as the train started to move he was back to her, shaking his head.
She covered her eyes with a trembling hand. She had lost everything! Not only her savings in a thick roll of notes in her purse, but all her possessions, including the baby clothes that she had made or bought over the past months in the judge’s employ.
‘Madame? Your name, please.’
She looked up to see a moustached gendarme, who looked genuinely concerned for her and she supposed it was because of her obviously advanced pregnancy. In halting tones she told him what had happened and he wrote it all down in his notebook, including her description of the young couple. ‘They may be entirely innocent,’ she concluded wearily.
‘There are a couple of young thieves working the trains, but they’ve not been on the Nantes line before. If it is them and we find where they are, there’s a chance we can retrieve some of your possessions, although don’t expect to get your money back.’
‘I’ve been left totally destitute. Even my train ticket has gone.’
‘There’s a convent in town where you can go for the time being until you’re able to contact your husband or another member of your family. I’ll take you there myself on my way back to the police station to make my report.’
The gendarme left her at the door of the convent. Located in the main street, it was a very old, stark-looking building of grey stone with the time-worn figure of a saint in a niche above the entrance. The elderly nun who opened the big door had a kindly, wrinkled face and her expression became one of concern when she saw Lisette’s stricken expression.
‘Come in, child,’ she said at once. ‘I’m Sister Delphine. Whatever is the matter?’
Lisette entered the whitewashed hall and suddenly it began whirling about her. She slipped without a sound to the stone floor.
Ten
When Lisette recovered from her faint she was lying on a wooden bench with Sister Delphine wafting smelling salts under her nose. Standing by was another, younger nun, who was holding a glass of water in readiness and regarding her with interest.
‘What is your name?’ Sister Delphine asked gently, helping her to sit up.
‘Lisette Decourt.’ She took the glass for a welcome drink. ‘Thank you for looking after me.’
‘This convent is a refuge for women of all ages in distress.’ Sister Delphine’s tone was compassionate. ‘Now, if you feel well enough, Mother Abbess wishes to see you.’
Lisette nodded and stood up. The younger nun, who said she was Sister Martine, took her along a stone-floored passage to the abbess’s study. After tapping on the door and entering to announce Lisette the nun left again.
The abbess was seated at a large desk. She was a severe-looking woman with sharply observant grey eyes and a firm mouth, her complexion almost as white as her starched coif as if she never saw the sun.
‘Sit down, Lisette. Why are you here?’
Lisette took the chair indicated and spoke brokenly. ‘I was robbed of everything I possess on the train to Nantes. I have only the clothes I am wearing. I reported the crime to a gendarme and when he knew I had nowhere to go he brought me to your door.’
The abbess’s concentrated gaze did not leave Lisette’s face. ‘You’re still a long way from Nantes. What was the purpose of your journey?’ When she had heard Lisette’s explanation she gave a nod. ‘So you would like to stay here overnight before getting in touch with your husband?’
‘I’m not married and I have no family who would help me.’ There was no point in keeping up the myth of a marriage now that she had come here.
The abbess’s expression did not change. ‘You have friends?’
‘Yes, but none I could call upon in my present circumstances.’
‘Then how do you see your immediate future?’
Lisette passed the fingertips of her right hand across her forehead. ‘I don’t know, Mother Abbess,’ she said wearily. ‘I haven’t had time to think.’
The abbess sat back in her chair. ‘I can see you’re still in a state of shock. It would be pointless to discuss matters now. You may stay here tonight in a room we keep for short stay visitors. Tomorrow morning we can talk again and decide what is to be done.’
After a supper of soup and bread Lisette went to the privy where she was on the point of throwing away her false wedding ring, but remembered in time that she would need it when she left this place again. Instead she put it in her pocket and washed away the green mark that it always made on her finger. Then Sister Martine, who was waiting for her, led her through a great domed dormitory where thirty women of all ages were preparing for bed. Some were pregnant, others gaunt-looking and skeletal-limbed and most seemed too tired even to converse with one another, falling into bed and pulling the covers up to their chins. Stares of intense curiosity followed Lisette all the way to a cell-like room at the far end of the dormitory.
‘Bolt your door,’ Sister Martine advised quietly before leaving her with a candle, ‘or your clothes and the jewellery you are wearing might disappear in the night.’
Lisette followed the nun’s advice. Then she unrolled the cotton nightgown that she had been given, which was the same as those s
he had seen some of the women putting on. It was clean and smelled of carbolic soap as she pulled it over her head. The bedlinen was patched, but just as spotless, and crisply ironed. She supposed laundry work was one of the tasks carried out by the inmates. When she climbed into bed the mattress proved to be as hard as the pillow, but she was thankful for the shelter she had been given.
She blew out the candle and saw the strip of light under the door vanish when the nun on duty extinguished the dormitory lamps. But silence did not follow, for she could hear sobbing, deep sighs and plenty of snoring.
Inevitably she lay awake, contemplating what she should do to struggle out of this terrible and unforeseen crisis. She thought how fortunate it was that she had been wearing the only pieces of jewellery she possessed, including the pearl necklace that her father had given her, or else she would have lost them too. When removing her cape she had found a few francs in its inside pocket and that had been like finding buried treasure in her present financial plight.
Her thoughts moved on to her baby’s birth. She would have to trust herself to the care of the nuns. This did not cause her any anxiety, for in this refuge they would have delivered many babies and would be skilful in their task. Even when she had entered the building earlier this evening the presence of nuns had seemed to offer comfort and security. She had already chosen her baby’s name. If a boy he should be Charles after her father and, if a girl, Marie-Louise, which had been her mother’s name.
In the morning breakfast was eaten at long tables in a chill and raftered room of such height that the log fire in the wide fireplace could not be felt on the far side of it. Lisette helped to clear away afterwards and in the kitchen some of the women were beginning to wash up. She would have taken up a cloth to start drying the crockery, but Sister Martine came looking for her. The abbess was ready to see her again.
‘By your speech and manners you obviously come from a good background, Lisette,’ the abbess began when Lisette had seated herself. ‘By rights you should not be here at all, because I’m certain there must be people somewhere who would step in to save you from your present straits. Have you thought of anybody since we last spoke?’
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