Brilliance

by Rosalind Laker

  ‘No. The situation is exactly as I told you yesterday evening. There’s nobody. My parents are both dead and my former home is closed to me. No help would be forthcoming from there and indeed I would never ask for it. I have been severed from the past and at the present time I’m as destitute as any other woman given shelter here.’ She paused and then leaned forward in her chair as she spoke again imploringly. ‘Please allow me to stay and give birth here in the convent! I’ve nowhere else to go and, as you can see, my time is very near.’

  The abbess frowned. ‘If I grant your request it means that you will have to obey all the rules here. You must also subject yourself completely to my authority as regards to your well-being and whatever is considered best for your illegitimate child. Is that what you want?’

  ‘Yes, because I feel safe in your hands,’ Lisette replied trustingly.

  ‘This is not a prosperous convent. We have a few rich patrons, who are generous to us, but the drain on our resources is constant. We feed the hungry – any man, woman or child who begs at our door – and there are heavier demands in that we take in old, infirm and homeless women on a permanent basis. Younger women and girls, who are able to make a fresh start in life, have to move on as soon as possible after giving birth or whatever other cause made them seek shelter here. We give whatever assistance we can to set them on a new path and it will be the same for you.’

  ‘I shall always be grateful,’ Lisette said, thinking to herself that when she came into her inheritance she would give a large donation to this convent in appreciation of all that was being done for her at this time.

  ‘Everyone who stays here,’ the abbess continued, ‘unless ill, has to take part in the daily routine of washing dishes, working in the laundry, sweeping and dusting and scrubbing floors or – if physically unable to carry out such chores – there is always mending and darning and other such tasks. I’m told you made a start this morning by clearing tables.’

  ‘Yes. I’ll continue to do whatever I can.’

  ‘I see you are wearing jewellery, which is not allowed. The temptation to steal is ever present among those who have nothing. You trinkets will be kept in a convent safe and given back to you the day you leave.’

  ‘I had intended to pawn my earrings and buy a few clothes for my baby in case those that were stolen are never recovered.’

  ‘There is no need. We have plenty of very good baby clothes given to us by well-wishers. It is better that you save your jewellery for when you leave here. Selling them would help supplement a charity purse, which is given to every female when she leaves here. So you will not be turned out totally penniless into the world again.’ The abbess shook her head slightly. ‘Unfortunately there are those who go straight to the first wine shop, but I do not believe that of you.’ She folded her elegant, thin-fingered hands on the desk. ‘Have you given thought as to what you will do after your child is born?’

  ‘I hope to work as a housekeeper again, which was my last employment. My ultimate aim is to return to Lyon where I grew up. That’s where I’ll really start my life over again.’

  ‘Ah, the City of Silk. So, after all I have said, do you still wish to place yourself completely into the convent’s total care?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ Louise confirmed fervently.

  ‘Have you decided on names for a male or female child?’

  ‘Yes, I have.’

  The abbess nodded and reached to open a drawer in her desk and take out a file. From it she took a printed form, which she placed in front of Lisette. ‘Read this through very carefully before you sign it.’ Then she rang a little bell on her desk and a nun, whom Lisette had not seen before, came from a neighbouring room used as an office. She was to witness Lisette’s signature.

  Lisette read the form through carefully. It covered all that had been put to her. She was fully aware that from the moment of signing this form she would be completely under the authority of the abbess, but she had no qualms whatever. Taking up the pen that had been placed ready for her, she dipped it in the inkwell and filled in her age and other minor details as well as the alternative names that she had chosen for her baby. There was also a space for the father’s name if known and she filled in Daniel’s full name. Their child had the right to know his or her full parentage. Then she signed the form.

  After the nun from the office had added her signature as witness, the abbess returned the form to the file.

  ‘Now, Lisette,’ she said, ‘go and find Sister Delphine, who will give you a change of underwear from our charity store and any other basic needs. She will allot you your domestic chores and also tell you which day you may have a bath. We believe in the old adage that cleanliness is next to godliness.’

  Lisette left the abbess’s study and was on her way to find Sister Delphine when without warning the floor tipped and she collapsed into a faint again. This time she hit her head on a heavily carved chair. When the dizziness subsided she became aware of an expensive perfume wafting about her. She opened her eyes to find she was still lying on the stone-flagged floor, but kneeling beside her with a supporting arm under her head was a woman wearing a fur-collared coat and a crimson silk toque ornamented by a ruby brooch. Sister Delphine was hovering in the background with a bandage and a blue glass bottle of iodine.

  ‘Are you feeling better?’ the woman asked, her voice warm and concerned. ‘I’m afraid you’ve cut your head, but it can be easily bound up.’ As Lisette made an attempt to rise the woman gave further support around her waist. ‘Take your time. There’s no need to hurry.’ Slowly and together they rose to their feet and then the woman helped Lisette into the chair that had caused the injury. ‘I’ll leave you now to Sister Delphine’s care.’

  With a smile the woman turned away and went in the direction of the abbess’s study. Lisette looked after her as Sister Delphine began dabbing at her head with iodine, making it sting.

  ‘Who was that?’ she asked.

  ‘Madame Josephine de Vincent, a widow. She has been very generous towards our funds and takes an interest in the welfare of our inmates. Since losing her husband she has come to stay temporarily with an elderly aunt, who has not been well.’ Sister Delphine finished bandaging Lisette’s head and stood back to admire her handiwork. ‘Now I don’t want you fainting again. You can sit with the old women and mend some bedlinen. Some of them will like having your company too.’

  The old women sat in a semicircle around the fire in the linen room and all looked up when Lisette entered. Two of them made concerned little cries and exclamations over her bandaged head, but she assured them it was only a simple cut. Others were less welcoming.

  ‘We don’t want her here,’ one grumbled to her neighbour, and there were grunts of agreement.

  ‘That will do,’ Sister Delphine chided mildly as she gave Lisette a couple of pillowcases to patch and an individual sewing-basket that held needles, pins and all else she would need.

  Lisette had only just started to work when Josephine de Vincent entered the room. It was obvious from the reaction of the old women that she always came to see them on her visits to the convent and some smiled their toothless smiles while the more disagreeable ones paid no attention.

  ‘Bonjour, mesdames,’ she said, raising her voice since they were all deaf, and she received a little chorus of acknowledgement. Lisette guessed that she was in her early thirties and could appreciate now that she was a good-looking woman with long-lashed dark eyes, fine aristocratic cheekbones, a creamy complexion and a smiling mouth. Her glossy black hair was drawn up in the current fashion and no doubt she had a neat topknot under her silken toque. ‘How are you all today?’

  She went to each of the old women in turn, asking about their aches and pains and showing a genuine interest when they had something special to tell her. Finally she came to Lisette and regarded her with concern.

  ‘Have you quite recovered from your fall?’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’

  ‘When is your baby due?’<
br />
  ‘Within the next ten days.’

  ‘Not much longer to wait. Mother Abbess has been telling me about your misfortune. Let us hope the police recover some of your possessions.’

  ‘I hope they will, but I’m not counting on it.’

  ‘I should like to visit you here when your baby is born.’

  ‘That is very kind.’

  Josephine then bade everybody goodbye and left. As Lisette resumed her sewing she was pleased with the prospect of having a visitor. Then, unbidden, came the thought of how much better it would be if it were Daniel coming to see his child. Then she shook away the sudden image of him and concentrated on her sewing.

  She worked three days in the sewing room. Most of the old women liked to talk and their conversation was well laced with coarse expressions and swear words that came naturally to them. Often they repeated themselves, telling the same stories over and over again as if they had never told them before. Yet as she heard them talk about the hard lives they had had with the loss of loved ones, the betrayals, the poverty, the hunger, the begging on the street and how they had had to sell themselves, she was filled with pity. It made her realize more than ever what a safe and protected life she had led until the day she had run away. Yet even now she did not regret making that escape.

  It was not Sister Delphine who moved Lisette out of the sewing room, but another nun, Sister Lucienne. She was a gaunt, sour-faced woman with a sharp tongue and no patience.

  ‘You’re too young to be sitting with sewing,’ she said crisply. ‘It will do you good to be more active. Exercise is needed to bring a baby on time. You can start by scrubbing the passage floors.’

  Lisette went to find a bucket and scrubbing brush. One of the middle-aged inmates told her where they were kept.

  ‘You shouldn’t be on your hands and knees just now,’ the woman said. ‘You’re big as a house and your belly will get in the way. Who set you on to floors?’

  ‘Sister Lucienne.’

  The woman snorted. ‘That explains it! She is a hard taskmaster and don’t like nobody sitting about. She would have the old women off their haunches if it were possible.’

  Scrubbing the passage floors daily was a hard task. Lisette’s back ached painfully and her knuckles grew raw. Sister Delphine saw her at her work, but did not intervene. Lisette guessed it was for the sake of keeping the peace, because she had heard from others that Sister Lucienne had a terrible temper and could reduce some of the nuns to tears.

  Lisette’s pains began early one April afternoon just after she had emptied a bucket of dirty water into a courtyard drain. She gave a gasp at the sharpness of the contraction, dropping the bucket with a clatter and reaching out to clutch at the door jamb. For several moments she could not move. Then she staggered back into the kitchen. Two nuns were baking bread and, seeing Lisette bent double and ashen-faced, they rushed with floury hands to assist her.

  What followed was only pain. Sometimes Lisette heard someone screaming and realized it was herself. There was no respite. Outside the window of the birthing room the sky grew dark and then light again by day before the stars came once more. Finally at the following dawn Lisette gave birth to a daughter. She glimpsed her lovely baby as she was lifted from the bloodstained sheets, giving the la-la-la cry of the newborn, her hair as dark as Daniel’s.

  ‘Marie-Louise!’ she whispered joyfully. Then she slipped away into unconsciousness while the nuns worked frantically. She was haemorrhaging and they feared for her life, but gradually they succeeded in stopping the flow and hope returned. They smiled at each other in relief across the bed.

  ‘She’ll be all right now,’ Sister Delphine said thankfully. ‘Praise be to God.’

  But Sister Delphine had misjudged the situation. Lisette, already weak and exhausted, developed a high fever and was soon delirious. Again the nuns feared they would lose her, one of them always at her bedside, but somehow she kept the will to live. Finally, against all odds, there came a morning when she recognized her surroundings and saw the sunbeams coming through a high window. Sister Martine, who sat reading, sprang up from her chair.

  ‘You’re going to be well again, Lisette!’ she exclaimed joyfully. ‘How glad everybody will be!’

  ‘My baby!’ Lisette appealed eagerly, struggling to rise from her pillows.

  ‘Be calm now. You’ve been very ill and we almost lost you twice.’

  Lisette was looking about her. ‘Where is she?’ she pleaded frantically.

  ‘Not in this sickroom. We had to get you well.’

  ‘Please fetch her! My darling Marie-Louise! I want to hold her in my arms!’ Lisette fell back weakly against the pillows. ‘I know she’s beautiful, because I saw her.’

  ‘You saw her?’ Momentarily Sister Martine looked dismayed, but recovered her smile almost immediately. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’

  With a swish of her black robe she went from the room at a run. Lisette lay eagerly watching the door. She had felt her heart fill with love in that short, sweet glimpse of her baby. Her arms ached to hold her. All the pain and torment was forgotten as if it had never been.

  The door was opening. Lisette gave a joyful cry, but it was Mother Abbess, solemn-faced, who entered and she was empty-handed. Terror gripped Lisette.

  ‘What’s happened? Where’s my baby? Is she ill? Don’t tell me she didn’t—’ she could not voice the words.

  ‘Your baby is healthy and strong and is in good care. She has been baptized with the name of Marie-Louise, which was your wish. Someone was very careless in letting you catch sight of the child and that will be investigated, although I suppose concern for your life was uppermost in everybody’s mind. Naturally it is much harder for a mother to part with a child whom she has seen and normally that never takes place.’

  Lisette had been listening with growing horror. ‘What are you saying to me? Why shouldn’t I have seen her? She’s my child! What is this talk of parting? I want my baby now!’

  ‘The morning after you came here you agreed that at this convent we should do whatever was considered best for you and your child. You put your trust in us completely and signed a form to that effect. So we have done the same for you as we have done for other single young women wanting to start life anew, which can prove impossible with the burden of an illegitimate child. You have been set free of the past as you told me you were once before. Marie-Louise has been adopted.’

  ‘No!’ Lisette’s anguished scream rang out. ‘No, no, no! You must get her back! She’s my child! Mine!’

  In the entrance hall Sister Delphine had just admitted Josephine. As the echo of Lisette’s cry reached them she looked startled and concerned. ‘Whatever is happening?’

  ‘Lisette showed signs of a full recovery today, madame. Unfortunately, unbeknown to us, she saw her baby after the birth, which is why she immediately started asking for her. Normally, as you know, we remove the child unseen before any bond can be formed, which makes it easier for the mother. I fear from that cry that Mother Abbess has just told Lisette that her daughter had been adopted.’

  ‘The poor, unfortunate girl.’ Josephine looked stricken. ‘Didn’t she understand that whenever possible the fatherless babies are adopted?’

  ‘Apparently not.’

  Josephine continued to be deeply distressed, her hands agitated. ‘I wonder if it would help in any way if I talked to her. She will be in great need of comfort.’

  ‘I’m sure Mother Abbess would be glad if you did. Lisette is in the room next to the birthing room. We moved her there when another girl began labour pains.’

  ‘I know the way.’

  Halfway up the wide staircase Josephine met the abbess coming down and explained her intention.

  ‘That’s very good of you,’ the abbess replied. ‘At the moment, as you can guess, Lisette is inconsolable, crying for her child to be retrieved and given back to her. I’m most anxious that she shouldn’t make herself ill again through her distress. She is in a very weak stat
e.’

  ‘If only I had known—!’

  The abbess silenced her with a touch on her hand. ‘It is all for the best. You and I know how cruel the world can be to a single woman with a child, making her a social outcast wherever she goes. Lisette, educated and intelligent, will be unhampered when she goes forth from here and will be able to gain respectable employment that would otherwise have been barred to her. So encourage her to view the future optimistically when the opportunity arises.’

  ‘I will, Mother Abbess,’ Josephine replied quietly. Yet as she continued up the flight she felt she had made the greatest mistake of her life in not doing what she could to prevent the adoption instead of accepting the abbess’s decision to let the baby go to others.

  Upstairs she knocked on the door and entered. Lisette had thrown herself across the bed in wild sobbing that seemed to be tearing her apart. Hurrying to her, Josephine sat down on the bed and gathered her close, rocking her like a child. ‘Hush, hush,’ she said soothingly.

  Gradually Lisette realized who was holding her and jerked up her head, tears streaming down her face, and she clutched at the lapels of Josephine’s coat. ‘I never said I wanted my baby adopted! Never! I agreed that the convent should do its best for my baby, but I never supposed that she would be taken away from me! She’s mine and nobody else has any right to her! You have influence! You could get her back for me! For mercy’s sake, do this for me!’

  Josephine could hardly speak in her own distress and smoothed Lisette’s tumbled hair back from her tear-stained face. ‘That is not possible, however much I wish it were. Marie-Louise has been legally adopted by a good, kind couple unable to have children of their own.’

  ‘You know who they are?’ Lisette was stark-eyed with grief, but hope flickered into her face. ‘You could explain! Say it’s all a mistake that should never have happened!’

  ‘No, that’s not possible. I’m only telling you what I know.’ Josephine paused. ‘The couple sailed with your daughter to the United States yesterday.’