Brilliance

by Rosalind Laker

  It was a little time after that when she began to realize how much she had absorbed Michel into her life. With it came awareness that her feelings for him were becoming deeper. It was not that she was in love with him, but her affection for him was increasing with every meeting. As a result she told him much more about herself than she would otherwise have done, although she left out how she had taken refuge at the convent and all that had happened there. She also omitted any mention of Daniel and spoke of him as if their relationship had never been more than that of employer and assistant.

  Michel was well aware that there were gaps in her life that she still had not covered for him, but he never questioned her, certain the time would come when eventually she would tell him everything.

  Thirteen

  Michel could not understand why Lisette would not allow him to make a claim for her on the Bellecour house, but in her own mind she had visions of Isabelle arriving in Lyon to contest it and, although it was highly unlikely, even Philippe making an appearance.

  ‘If you would let me know all the facts,’ Michel persisted, ‘I could easily take up the case for you. From what you have told me I know that your stepmother stopped your allowance simply because you left home to avoid marrying someone you could no longer trust.’ It was all Lisette had revealed about Philippe. ‘As I have said, I’m not at all sure that she had the legal right to stem it completely. At least let me look into the matter on your behalf.’

  ‘No,’ she said firmly, her tone brooking no argument. ‘My life is running smoothly at the present time and I want nothing to disrupt it.’

  He had to accept her decision.

  It was Michel who gave Lisette the news that the Lumière brothers had gone ahead with their father’s encouragement and had invented a camera, yet to be wholly perfected, which would take animated pictures and also project them. It filled her with thoughts of Daniel. She wondered how advanced he was now with his invention? Had the Lumière brothers left him far behind?

  Then, one warm, late summer day Auguste came into her office on a tour of the whole factory to make an announcement. He had the attention of all the bookkeepers immediately, but he considered what he had to say important enough to summon the clerks from the adjacent office and they crowded together at the back and sides of the room.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he began. ‘Tomorrow when you leave the factory at the end of the day’s work you will see my brother outside. He will be turning the handle of a wooden box mounted on a tripod. It is a very special camera that takes animated pictures and also projects them on to a screen or wall. He will be taking pictures of you that will capture your every movement.’

  There was a buzz of surprise and interest. Lisette listened in dismay. So the Lumière brothers were to be first after all! She did not begrudge them their success, but she had never lost her high hopes for Daniel. Almost unaware of it, she rose to her feet.

  ‘I offer my congratulations, Monsieur Auguste, but I have understood from what I have read and also heard that smooth projection has been the great hurdle that has so far been impossible to overcome. May I ask if you have mastered that problem?’

  He gave her a sharp look of interest, not having expected anyone to have any real knowledge of the workings of a motion picture camera. ‘You are quite correct, Mademoiselle Decourt. It has been an enormous hurdle for many would-be inventors, including my brother and myself, because the resulting jerkiness has made the photographs virtually impossible to watch without eyestrain. I am happy to say that the Lumière camera has solved that problem.’

  ‘I am delighted to hear that,’ she continued, but she was still unable to curb her curiosity. ‘There has also been the difficulty of printing the pictures on various sensitized papers,’ she continued, ‘all of which to date have been quick to tear. Is some new material being used?’ Then she flushed with embarrassment and corrected herself. ‘No, I should not ask such questions, because you must have surely discovered something unknown to anyone else.’ She sat down quickly. ‘Please forgive my impertinence.’

  ‘There is nothing to forgive, mademoiselle. Your interest is commendable. This past year has been a time of perfecting our invention and the credit for it goes to my brother, Louis. You were not here at the time, mademoiselle, but some while ago my brother was not well and was confined to his bed. As the rest of you will know, he is never idle and nor was he during that enforced rest. Instead he was turning the problem of a lack of smooth projection over and over in his mind until the solution came to him. He greeted me from the pillow of his sickbed with the news that he had solved the problem that had previously marred a perfect picture!’

  There was a spontaneous burst of applause. Auguste smiled, nodded to them all and then left the office. Afterwards Lisette found it difficult to concentrate on her work. She could not stop wondering what the inspiration was that had come to Louis on his sickbed. Did it mean that the brothers had outrun Daniel in the great race for perfection?

  The next day to the surprise of the Lumière brothers all their women employees turned up for work in their best clothes in readiness for the motion picture camera. The rows of pegs for their hats resembled brightly coloured flower garlands with all the elaborate trimmings of ribbons, flowers, feathers and beaded hatpins. Lisette was the exception, coming in a neat blouse and skirt and plain hat, which was her normal working attire. She had more on her mind than the forthcoming motion picture making, for the previous evening Michel had asked her to marry him. Yet she was not oblivious to the air of excitement that prevailed in her office and had to exert her authority to get the correct amount of work from her bookkeepers done by the end of the day.

  ‘You have surely realized over past months how much in love with you I am, my dear Lisette,’ Michel had said. They had been seated on a banquette in a secluded alcove, well hidden by pillars and palm trees, at one of their favourite restaurants where they had had supper together after the theatre. She experienced a moment of panic akin to a sensation of being trapped, knowing how easy it would be to accept him, but sensibly let it pass before she answered in a calm voice.

  ‘I do care a very great deal for you, Michel,’ she admitted honestly, ‘and I truly regret that I’m not able to commit myself in any way.’

  ‘Is it because you still love the man you almost married?’

  ‘No!’ She threw back her head in astonishment that he should imagine that Philippe should stand between them. ‘I never think of him.’

  ‘Then marry me, Lisette,’ he urged. ‘I believe you’re more in love with me than you realize. We could have a wonderful life together. There’s so much we have in common – a love of books, music, the theatre, the countryside and much more.’

  She was uneasy. ‘You know my views on marriage.’

  ‘You formed those ideas during the period in your life when you were hurt and unhappy, but now the time has come for you to have a fresh outlook on the future. Be my wife, Lisette. I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy. I want you so much.’

  He drew her closer and kissed her lovingly as he had done on previous occasions, but this time more intensely with an ultimate purpose. Against her will her whole body yearned to be loved, to surrender to passion, for Daniel had awakened senses in her that had haunted her ever since, but she drew herself away.

  ‘No, Michel! I can’t give you any hope.’ In her mind’s eye she saw again the baby she had never held and yet who had changed her life irrevocably. She knew Michel well enough to know that if he ever suspected that another man had possessed her, giving her a child, he would be tormented by terrible jealousy. She would never subject him to that torture for his sake as well as her own

  He shook his head determinedly. ‘I can’t believe that you want to remain single till the end of your days!’

  In her own mind she had already seen her rejection of his offer of marriage as the end of everything between them. ‘I’m very fond of you, Michel, but you must look elsewhere for a wife.
There is nothing you could say that would make me change my mind.’

  ‘I can’t believe that!’

  ‘Then we must make an end to our relationship. It is not fair on you to hope in vain. This has to be goodbye.’ Gathering up her wrap together with her beaded evening purse, she pressed a hand down on his shoulder when he would have risen to his feet with her. ‘I’ll go now. Stay where you are.’ Her voice was tremulous. ‘The doorman will summon a cab for me. I’ll always remember the happy days we have shared.’

  As she turned to leave he caught her wrist and compelled her back into her seat beside him, his expression torn and anxious. ‘I love you! Nothing can change that! I want you and will always want you. Sooner or later you will agree to be my wife! I’m sure of it!’ His voice took on a gentler tone. ‘I’ve seen the way you look at little children. You’ll want a family of your own one day, however much you deny it now.’

  Although she was very moved by this outburst of his feelings, she doubted that he would ever comprehend that many children, although loved as much, could never fill the gap left by a lost child. She rested her palm lightly against his face. ‘You’re a good man, Michel. But it can’t be.’

  He moved her palm from his cheek and buried a kiss in it. ‘I’ll wait years for you if needs be, but don’t condemn me to that, Lisette.’

  Now, as she collected her bicycle from the factory shed, her mind was occupied with thoughts of Michel and she forgot all about Louis Lumière and the motion picture camera set up beyond the factory gates. She went cycling right past him before realizing that she must have filled the camera lens for a matter of seconds. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw the women workers emerging self-consciously from the factory gates, smiles on their faces, while the men, some on bicycles, stared with interest in the direction of the camera. A dog was leaping about as if knowing that something unusual was taking place.

  That evening the Lumières gathered in the family home to view the motion pictures that had been taken over the past few days. Madame Lumière was given a front seat beside her husband while young Edouard sat on the floor by her feet and the rest took the other chairs. Auguste and Louis intended to cut out surplus runs of the pictures, but only after the family had viewed them all.

  The lamps were lowered and Louis began turning the handle of the camera. There were murmurs of admiration from Madame Lumière and her daughters-in-law at the superb clarity of the pictures. A horse-bus went by. There were boats on the river. Some children ran along, bowling hoops. Next came Auguste sitting with Marguerite at a garden table with their baby daughter, Andrée, between them. None of these strips of film lasted longer than a minute and it took the same amount of time to reload, but that gave the family the chance to chat excitedly during these impromptu intervals about what they had seen so far. Then came the factory pictures, beginning with a young woman cycling right past the camera, her face captured fully for only a matter of seconds. Yet it was long enough to cause Madame Lumière to sit forward abruptly in her seat.

  ‘I’m sure I know that girl!’ she exclaimed.

  Nobody thought her remark held any significance. It was not often that Jeanne-Josephine Lumière went to the factory, but apparently she had recognized somebody she had seen there. Yet, when the lamplight was raised again, she did not let the matter rest.

  ‘Do run that strip of the factory through again,’ she asked her son. When he had obliged she turned to her husband. ‘Antoine! I’m sure that was Madame Decourt’s granddaughter!’

  ‘Do you mean little Lisette?’ he asked in surprise.

  ‘She wouldn’t be little now.’ Madame Lumière thought for a moment or two. ‘I’d say she is at least nineteen, which is surely the age of the girl on the bicycle!’

  ‘But why should she be working in our factory? There was no shortage of money in the Decourt family. I passed the Bellecour house the other day and it is still closed up. Surely you remember that Lisette was not going to inherit it until she married or came of age? So there’s no reason for her to be here.’ He shook his head. ‘I think you’re mistaken, my dear.’

  Madame Lumière was not satisfied and turned again in her chair to address her sons. ‘Auguste! Louis! Do you have a Mademoiselle Decourt working at the factory?’

  They were busy with the strips of photographs and neither had been paying attention to their parents’ discussion. She had to command their attention again.

  Louis glanced up this time. ‘Who? Mademoiselle Decourt? Yes, she’s in our bookkeeping office. You saw her on the screen a few minutes ago. Michel Ferrand is her beau – he and I were pupils together at the Lycée de la Martinere.’

  ‘Yes, I remember. Now listen to me. I want to see Lisette. Give her permission to leave work early tomorrow afternoon and I will receive her at home. I can guess why she has never been to see me. There was that scandal about her being a runaway bride. Now you will remember to invite her, won’t you, Louis?’

  ‘Yes, Maman.’ Louis exchanged an amused glance with his brother. There were still times when their mother seemed to forget they were no longer children.

  The next morning Louis summoned Lisette to his office to pass on his mother’s invitation. When he had explained how it had come about, she hesitated before accepting.

  ‘I have stayed away from visiting her as I was involved in a scandal,’ she said frankly. ‘Are you sure—?’

  Louis cut her short with a reassuring smile. ‘You have no need to be concerned. My mother has no patience with gossip. She will expect you at three o’clock.’

  From the moment Lisette was shown into Madame Lumière’s presence, she was enveloped in all the kindness and warmth of hospitality that she remembered from the past. Her grandmother’s old friend kissed her fondly on both cheeks.

  ‘What a joy to see you again, Lisette! You were a pretty child and now you are a beautiful young woman. Oh, how I have missed your dear grandmother over the years, but now you are back in Lyon again.’

  She drew Lisette over to neighbouring chairs in front of a low table that had been spread with a lace cloth, ready with cups and saucers as well as a plateful of little cakes and pastries.

  ‘You look so well, madame,’ Lisette replied happily, ‘and not changed in any way.’ Then she added on a sober note, ‘I have wanted to visit you, but—’

  Madame Lumière smiled and shook her head. ‘You do not have to say anything about it, because I guessed why. Yes, we did hear of the scandal at the time, but you must have had good reason for doing what you did.’

  ‘That’s very understanding of you. At the last moment an insurmountable barrier arose that made it impossible for me to marry Philippe and so I took the only escape route that seemed open to me.’

  ‘Then I believe, as your grandmother would have done, that you did the right thing. An unhappy marriage is a terrible state to be in.’ Madame Lumière began to pour pale golden-hued tea into the fine porcelain cups, adding a thin slice of lemon to each. ‘Your jilted bridegroom came looking for you in Lyon and called here to ask if I knew your whereabouts.’ She noticed Lisette’s startled look. ‘Ah! I can see you didn’t know that!’

  ‘No, I didn’t, although I did think that he might come to Lyon in his search.’ She took the teacup that was handed to her.

  ‘Are you aware that he married recently?’ Madame Lumière asked cautiously. ‘There was an announcement in one of the national newspapers.’

  Lisette looked at her in relief. ‘What good news!’

  Madame Lumière raised her eyebrows. ‘I wondered how you would feel about it.’

  ‘I’ve been so afraid that he would still be looking for me. Now I know that I’m truly out of his life. I hope he and his bride find happiness together.’

  The older woman nodded in satisfaction. ‘I’m pleased to know that is how you feel. May I ask how you managed to disappear so completely after leaving the château? You were not to be found anywhere.’

  ‘I knew of a travelling lanternist who wa
s leaving Paris and I worked as his assistant for a while. After that I gained employment in a shop and then as a housekeeper before arriving in Lyon.’

  Madame Lumière regarded her approvingly. ‘Your grandmother would have been pleased that you’ve grown up to be self-reliant and that you know your own mind.’

  She went on to chat about the past and give news of people whom Lisette remembered, and they discussed other topics that interested them both. Lisette also told of her clandestine visits to the Bellecour house.

  ‘You could have been arrested as an intruder!’ Madame Lumière exclaimed anxiously.

  ‘I know, but to be so near and yet so far made it impossible for me not to attempt an entry.’

  ‘Be sure to keep away in future,’ Madame Lumière advised. ‘You’re too young to realize yet how swiftly time flies, but the next two years will melt away and then the house will be yours.’

  It was then that Monsieur Lumière came into the salon. He still exuded joviality and with his same irresistible charm he welcomed Lisette heartily before sitting down to have a cup of tea himself.

  ‘It’s a long time since I found you weeping in the garden on the day of your grandmother’s funeral, Lisette,’ he said reminiscently, ‘and I have to admit that I wouldn’t have recognized you on the motion picture as my wife did. But one thing I can tell you,’ he added, ‘and it is that the camera liked the look of you! That image of you was perfection!’

  His wife nodded her head eagerly. ‘Yes, it was. The boys must take more moving pictures of you.’

  Lisette smiled. ‘I feel very privileged to have been photographed already.’ Then she made a request. ‘Is it possible, Monsieur Lumière, that the plate used to take that last photograph of my grandmother in your studio is still in existence? I lost the photograph when it was stolen with the rest of my belongings from a train.’