Despite the Angels (23 page)

“I hear you,” Trynor said. “I’ll pass it on. Keep still now.”

The singing got louder and was interspersed with jokes and banter. Whoever they were, they were going to the château to ‘see the fun’. The voices were strange, the accents unfamiliar.

“Who have we here?” A foot pushed at Eloise. “Someone who should not be here. Someone who is trying to hide. Up to no good, I’ll bet. On your feet till we look at you!”

Nicholas got up first and helped Eloise to her feet. She held tight to Marie-Claire under her cloak and looked at the strangers. There were five men, bedraggled and unkempt, but looking strong and healthy. They gathered round and examined Nicholas and the sisters, as though they were cattle at a market.

“A lady, what d’you reckon, Henri? Not a useful person to know, no good these days, ladies and gentlemen. A waste of space.” He drew his grimy finger across his throat as he grinned, drawing a ragged snigger from his mates
. Roki and Trynor were in anxious discussion with the group of guides who had arrived with the strangers and there was much gesticulating.

“What do we suggest? We suggest you calm your people down and get them away from here,” Roki said, waving his arms about.

“It is not easy,” said one of the guides. “We stay with them all the time, but they do not hear us and do not listen. They are very young souls, they think everything is simple, do you remember?”

“Oh yes,” Roki said. “Not that long ago either. But it is not an excuse, you still need to get through to them. You lot do not belong here, where we are busy trying to rescue our people. Just as things are going well for my man, you turn up with a bunch of vagabonds and threaten to spoil everything. Go away, go on. You agree?” he turned to Trynor.

“Yes I agree they should go, not get mixed up with our plans. Our plans which are already in tatters, but which can be saved, so Eloise can still be with Marie-Claire. But I do not agree that things are going well for Nicholas. In what way?”

“He can marry Eloise, as he has always wanted.”

“But there is no plan for that. They are friends only.”

“Fuss, fuss. What harm if he does? It would free him of wanting it, then they could be friends next time.”

“The harm is that it would be wrong for Eloise. Oh, why are we discussing this when so much is happening? Look!”

The gang was circling the shivering fugitives, feeling their clothes, staring into their faces. One put his arm round Pascale’s waist and tried to kiss her. She pulled away, trying to laugh it off. Nicholas raised a fist, but his arm was pulled roughly down by the biggest of the gang, a burly man with a manic glint in his eye. Nicholas stood as quietly as he could, hearing his heart thumping and feeling sure it could be heard all the way across the marsh. The big man stopped in front of Eloise and ran his eyes over her. She shuddered. The man grabbed a long stick from one of his companions and used it to lift the hem of Eloise’s skirt. He pointed to her bare and muddy foot.

“The lady lost her pretty slipper, then? That will be a new idea for you, to go without, hein?”

“We are from the village,” Eloise said, in her strongest local accent. “I am not a lady.”

“Then why the servant girl, and what is this?” The man lifted her filigree necklace away from her neck on the point of his dagger and beckoned for one of the torches to be brought closer. “Gold, I think. How do you explain that?”

“Whore!” The man with the torch spat at Eloise’s feet.

“No!”

“She is not a whore,” Nicholas said, putting his arm around Eloise again. “She is a decent woman; from the village, as I am. Just as she says.”

The bandit looked at them again, still holding the necklace on his dagger, teasing it back and forth. Eloise tried not to move, aware of the blade so close, the man’s thick breath in her face. He snorted. “Maybe you are telling the truth. But then, maybe you stole this gold and you have no right to it, eh, my pretty one? And if you have no right to it, then you could give it to us and we could let you go, even with this evidence of crime hanging around your pretty neck. Too pretty for Monsieur Guillotine, I think, not that he is fussy.”

“I did not steal it, it was bought for me by my husband.” Eloise stared into the man’s face, suddenly made brave by the memory of the first time Daniel had shown her the necklace and how he had put it on for her.

“And where is this rich husband now?” the man pulled himself up to his full height and tossed his head back. “Keeping his appointment with the executioner?”

“Of course not,” Nicholas said. “The girl is her sister and I am her husband.”

“No!” Eloise turned her head to look at Nicholas and as she did, the point of the bandit’s dagger ran into the side of her throat. The man pulled it back roughly, twisting the point up to sever the delicate links of gold. He grabbed for the necklace and stuffed it in his pocket as he backed away. “Sorry, didn’t mean to hurt her, just a bit of fun,” he mumbled, as the group turned and ran into the darkness.

Nicholas put his hand up to Eloise’s neck and felt the slippery stickiness. Eloise leant heavily against him.

“Does it hurt?” Pascale asked, standing on tiptoe, trying to see the wound, straining her eyes against the night.

“No, it is not bad,” Eloise’s voice was soft. “But hold Marie-Claire for me.”

Pascale reached out, took the baby and tucked her into the crook of her arm. The clouds parted and a bit of light shone through. Nicholas peered round to see the wound and turned Eloise’s chin towards him. The wound gaped, but there was very little bleeding.

“Lie down for a moment, and rest.” Nicholas supported her weight and lowered Eloise to the ground.

“Daniel?”

Nicholas and Pascale looked around, but there was nobody there. Nicholas looked back at Eloise, who was very still. Her eyes were wide and there was a little smile on her face. He picked up her hand and it was limp.

“Eloise! Oh no, my Eloise!” Nicholas laid his head on her silent chest and wept. Pascale’s eyes were wide with horror, as she jiggled the new little orphan, who had begun to cry.

“Daniel? Oh, my love, you have caught up with us! But where are the horses? And who is this?” Eloise got easily to her feet and turned to look at Jotin, her brow furrowing. “I know you, I think? We have met before.”

“Yes, Eloise, you have met before,” Trynor said, stepping forward to stand beside her.

“Oh, hello Trynor,” said Eloise, as she leant over to kiss him on the cheek. “Nice to see you again.” Eloise stopped and grew very still. Then she moved over to the little group huddled on the ground and looked down at them. She turned to Trynor.

“But how did I die? It was not a bad cut?”

“Not deep, but it opened the vein in your neck. Air got in and stopped your heart.”

“And Daniel? What happened to you? And what will happen to Marie-Claire? Oh, my poor baby, poor Pascale.” Eloise went to Pascale and hugged her.

Pascale loo
ked around, her wet eyes bright.
Eloise kissed her on both cheeks
. Pascale smiled and wiped her hand across her face.
Eloise leant over the baby and pulled a face at her and
Marie-Claire stopped crying, smiled and gave a little gurgle. Pascale got to her feet, lifting the baby and holding her close. She spoke to Nicholas, although she was not sure if he heard her.

“I am bringing the baby to Mother. Then I will send the men out to bring Eloise home. You guard her till they arrive.” She set off into the murky night.

Eloise looked at Daniel. He was watching Pascale as she walked away. His shoulders shook and he put his face into his hands, shaking his head gently from side to side. Eloise moved over to him and put her arm around his shoulders.

“Our baby, gone.” His tone was bleak. Eloise squeezed him to her.

“Yes. But Pascale is a good girl. She will make her a good mother.”

“Not as good as you. She needs her own mother. And her father, such as he was. A useless idiot who got bamboozled by wealth and lost everything as result.” Daniel turned to Jotin. “What will we do, Jotin? What can we do now?”

“We can leave here and go Home. Time passes differently there, everything will seem easier. Come.” Jotin and Trynor wrapped themselves around Eloise and Daniel and lifted them off the ground. There was a sensation of pulling, then of floating, the light grew brighter though still soft, then they landed without a bump on a beautiful lawn. The sky was like an upturned bowl, stretching pale above them. Eloise lay down on the grass on her stomach and watched the daisies that were blooming just in front of her. They were beautiful, perfect. She looked at Daniel. He too was beautiful, without any trace of the fire that had taken his life. The two guides were sitting nearby, watching. Time passed. Eloise did not know how long, but she did not care, it was enough simply to be here in this lovely space. Time enough later to explore, or meet old friends. She turned over onto her back and watched the sky. Small clouds drifted across it and like on earth they resembled animals. There was a rabbit, yes, its ears were growing, and there it had a tail, and look, its nose is twitching! Eloise laughed and sat up.

“Trynor, am I making the cloud into a rabbit?”

“Yes, of course. It can be whatever you like. It is for you to play with.”

Eloise lay back and made a cloud horse in the sky. Another one appeared beside it and she and Daniel raced their horses around and around as they shouted with laughter and happiness. They sat up and hugged.

“We made another mess of it, didn’t we?” Daniel’s tone was calmer this time. “Earth is a hard place, no matter how much practice you get.”

“What happened to Marie-Claire?” Eloise asked Trynor, “Did she grow up happily?”

“She was happy for as long as she lived. She can tell you herself now, look!”

Marie-Claire walked across the lawn. She glowed a soft yellow and had taken the shape of a young woman. Eloise ran to meet her.

“Oh, my child, you grew up to be so lovely.”

“No, Maman. I am this size now because it is awkward to be small. I lived to be just three.”

“Oh, Marie-Claire! I am so sorry. I should have protected you better. What happened?”

“I should have protected both of you,” said Daniel, as he joined them.

“Pascale was my Maman after you left. She was a good mother, milked the goat for me, mashed up her food for me, played with me. Loved me. Even after her own baby was born.”

“Little Pascale had a baby? Tell!”

“She married Nicholas. He said your sister would have to do, that he would take second best.”

“Poor Pascale! She married him, when he said that?”

“Yes, and it is working well. He has fallen in love with her. Actually, I think it will be better for them both now that I am not there. No reminders of you, or, worse in his eyes, of the wicked landowner who stole his girl. Their son is just a year old now, a sturdy little fellow. He did not get sick.”

“But you did? What was it?”

“Mohmi tells me it is called diphtheria. All I know is that I could not get my breath. It was terrifying. Such a relief when I came out of my body and didn’t need to breathe any more. But I watched Pascale cry and that hurt. She feels you are truly dead, now.”

Eloise sighed. She remembered the horror of losing her little brother, the fear, no, the knowledge that she would never see him again, then the awful length of the time without him and his funny ways. She remembered, from other lives, having to live a long life without someone she had loved. She shuddered. Even if she had remembered that she would always eventually come back here, it would have been tough, putting in the time. She hugged Marie-Claire again.

“Well, we don’t seem to be much good at raising you. Maybe it will be third time lucky. Do you want us to try again?”

“Of course,” said Marie-Claire, “as often as you are willing to have me. It’s not as though I’m going anywhere!” They laughed and the guides joined in. There was a voice from the shadows-

“I’m glad to hear it. You still have to keep that vow. Only one stopping my figures being one hundred per cent.” It was Planidi, a very slightly darker shade of yellow now, suggesting she had made a little progress, but not much.

“We are going to have Moonsong again, Planidi, but not because of the vow. Because she wants us to and because it feels good when we work together,” Eloise stopped and looked at Planidi, realisation spreading over her.

“You were Madame Plantier? The market woman who encouraged me to dance with Daniel?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I suppose I should thank you. Even if you were only doing it to make your own records look tidier. It was going quite well until the revolution.”

“I’ll be there next time, too.” A dark bluish purple light formed beside her and they were aware there was something being said.

“Ah, I’m sorry, but I am being told to say that I do not need to watch over you,” Planidi grimaced, “It’s hard to let go of wanting perfection. I have to do more work on it. Let me know when the vow is fulfilled,” there was a pause, “No, sorry, I am going to erase my records. Carry on.” Planidi walked away in a rather meandering path. Jotin laughed.