The Black Swan (54 page)

I was glad to get back to school.

During conversazione a still frequent topic was the Balkan War, which had ended in the previous August.

As well-educated young ladies, we were expected to be able to discuss world affairs, especially those that were happening fairly close to us. This was the reason for so much emphasis being laid on the conversazione.

Most of the other girls found the subject of the Balkans exceptionally boring. We learned that the first war was between the Balkan States—which had included Serbia, Bulgaria, Greece and Montenegro—on one side, and the Ottoman Empire on the other.

In May of last year, the Balkan States had been victorious and a treaty was signed in London, the result of which was that the Ottoman Empire lost most of its territory in Europe.

“Thank goodness that’s over,” Caroline had said. “Now we can forget the wretched lot of them.”

“My dear Caroline,” said Miss Carruthers, “you are extremely thoughtless. These matters can be of the greatest importance to us. I know the Balkans seem remote to you, but we are part of Europe and anything that happens there could have its effect on us. Wars are good for no one, and when one’s neighbors indulge in them, events must be closely watched. One never knows when one’s country might be brought in.”

However, it had been pleasant to be able to forget the war and discuss the capital cities of Europe such as Paris, Brussels and Rome, all of which we read about and talked of with a certain amount of aplomb—the Bois de Boulogne, Les Invalides, the Colosseum of Rome, the art galleries of Florence—just as though we knew them well. This made us feel very sophisticated, knowledgeable and much-traveled—in our minds at least.

But that summer there had been moans of dismay when war broke out again. Serbia, Greece, Turkey and Rumania were quarreling with Bulgaria over the division of the spoils gained from the last war. We were delighted when Bulgaria was quickly defeated and peace returned.

Now, a year later, Madame Rochère still seemed rather grave—and so did some of the other teachers. The atmosphere had become a little uneasy. All the same it was a delightful summer; the weather was perfect and the days sped by. Soon the term would be at an end and we should be on our way home once more for the summer holidays. Aunt Celeste would come for us on the first day of August. School broke up on the last day of July.

We were coming toward the end of June. There was just over a month to go and Annabelinda and I were already making plans.

“This time next year, I shall be thinking of leaving,” she said. “I shall have a season. Do they have seasons in France? I must ask Grandpère. Of course, they haven’t got a king and queen. It wouldn’t be the same. I suppose my season will be in London. I shall see the King and Queen. Queen Mary looks a little stern, doesn’t she?”

How can she talk so lightly of such things? I thought. Does she ever give a thought to the baby?

Little Edouard was now nearly a year old. He was beginning to take notice. He could crawl and was learning to stand up. Sometimes he would take a few tentative steps. I would sit opposite Marguerite and he would stand between us, his face alight with pleasure. It was a game to him, to totter from Marguerite’s arms to mine without falling. She would stand behind, ready to catch him should the need arise. Then he would take his faltering steps and fall into my arms, which were waiting to receive him. We would clap, applauding his triumph, and he would put his hands together and do the same, beaming with pride in his achievement.

It was amazing what pleasure I found in that child. Perhaps he was so important to me because I knew he was Annabelinda’s. I felt that he belonged to our family. One day I should have to leave him. When my days at
La Pinière
were over, that would be the end. No. I would come back. I would pay a visit now and then…so that I could see how he was growing up. Marguerite would welcome me. She understood my feelings for the child. She shared them.

Edouard had done so much for her. He had assuaged her grief. I sometimes believed she could not have loved her own child more than she loved Edouard.

One day when I returned from the cottage and went up to the dormitory, Caroline was waiting there with Helga.

“You’re late,” said Caroline. “Why do you always go off on your own?”

“Because I like it.”

“To get away from us. That’s not very polite.”

“It’s to get away from school. I like…to walk around.”

“You haven’t got a secret lover, have you?”

I flushed a little, thinking of Annabelinda creeping out to meet Carl.

“You have! You have!” shrieked Caroline.

“Don’t be silly! How could I?”

“There are ways. Some do.”

Again that feeling of unease. Did they guess about Annabelinda? Why should I feel guilty because of her?

“I’d better get ready,” I said. “I’ll be late for conversazione.”

When we reached the hall, Madame Rochère was already there. She looked as though she had an important announcement to make. She had. She stood up and waited until we were seated, then she began.

“Something has happened, girls,” she said. “Yesterday in Sarajevo, which as you know is the capital of Bosnia in Yugoslavia, the heir apparent to the throne of Austria-Hungary, the Archduke Francis Ferdinand, with his wife, was assassinated by a Bosnian Serb named Gavrilo Princip.”

It was obvious that the girls were not greatly impressed by the news. Most of us were thinking, Oh, dear, we thought we had finished with those tiresome people. Now it will all be brought up again, and there will be little talk of the new dances and fashions, and those great cities of the world and all the delightful things one can do in them. Haven’t we had enough of those people with their two wars? And now they go around assassinating royalty!

“This is grave news,” Madame Rochère was saying. “It has happened far away, it is true, but it may have an effect on us. We must wait and see, and be prepared.”

July was with us. We were all preoccupied with plans for going home.

I said to Marguerite, “I shall be away for about two months.”

“You will see a change in Edouard when you come back,” she commented.

Aunt Celeste wrote that she would be coming to Valenciennes as usual. She would arrive at the school on the first of August. I wondered if Jean Pascal and the
Princesse
would be at Valenciennes. We always spent a day at the house there before beginning our journey home.

We had no notion at that time that this was going to be any different from our usual homecoming.

Then on the twenty-eighth of July, Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia. Relations between the two countries had been deteriorating since the murder of the Archduke Francis Ferdinand, and this was the result.

Madame Rochère was looking worried. It was clear that she thought this was happening at an unfortunate time. A month later and all the girls would have been at their respective homes and not her responsibility. Although the enormity of the situation was not apparent to us at that time, it was only a matter of days before this became clear to us.

I awoke on the morning of the first of August with mixed feelings. I longed to see my parents and my brother, Charles; on the other hand I should miss Edouard. It was amazing how I had grown so fond of a baby who could do little more than smile blandly when I picked him up and make little cooing noises, which Marguerite and I tried to interpret into words. I did not want to leave the child, but on the other hand there was so much to look forward to at home.

We were ready to leave, as were most of the girls. Some had gone on the previous day.

The morning seemed long. Celeste usually came early so that we could leave at once for Valenciennes. It seemed strange that she had not appeared.

Another peculiar thing was that all the English girls who had been expecting to leave that day were in the same position as Annabelinda and I. Helga had gone with the German contingent some days earlier; and most of the French girls were able to leave.

It was disconcerting and we knew something was very wrong.

There was tension throughout the school. Everyone was whispering, conjuring up what had happened. Then we heard that Germany was involved by declaring war against Russia.

Another day passed and there was no news of Celeste.

We had no notion of what was going on and why Aunt Celeste had not come for us. It was consoling that we were not the only ones whose arrangements had undergone this mysterious change.

A few more girls left, but there was still no sign of Aunt Celeste.

On the third of August, Germany declared war on France and then we understood that something very grave was happening.

That was a nightmare day. The gardens looked so peaceful; everything was quiet. There was a dramatic quality to the air. The flowers, the insects, the birds…they all seemed to be waiting…just as we were. We knew the calm could not go on.

On the afternoon of that day a man came riding onto the grounds on a motorcycle.

Caroline came bursting into the dormitory. I had just come back from visiting Edouard. Marguerite had told me that she and Jacques were very uneasy. She had a fear of the Germans.

“We are too near them,” she kept saying. “Too close….Too close.”

Even Edouard seemed to sense the tension and was a little fretful.

I was filled with misgivings. I had expected to be home by now. It was all so unusual.

Caroline was saying, “There’s a man with Madame Rochère. He is asking for you and Anna B. He’s brought letters or something. I distinctly heard him mention your name.”

“Where is he?”

“With Madame Rochère.”

At that moment Mademoiselle Artois appeared at the door.

“Lucinda, you are to go to Madame Rochère’s study at once.”

I hurried off.

Madame Rochère was seated at her desk. A man in the uniform of a British soldier sat opposite her.

He rose as I entered and said, “Good afternoon, miss.”

“This,” said Madame Rochère, “is Sergeant Clark. He has brought a letter from your parents. I also have heard from them.”

Sergeant Clark produced the letter.

“You should read it now,” said Madame Rochère. “Sit down and do so.”

I obeyed with alacrity.

My dearest Lucinda
, I read,

You will be aware that there is trouble in Europe and it has been impossible for Aunt Celeste to meet you as usual. Travel at the ports is disrupted. We are all very anxious that you should come home as soon as possible.

Your Uncle Gerald is having this letter brought to you. He is sending out someone to bring you and Annabelinda back to England. It might be difficult getting across France and finding the necessary transport. A Major Merrivale will be coming to the school to bring you both home. You must stay there until he arrives, which will be as soon as it can be arranged. Your Uncle Gerald thinks this is the best way of getting you back safely in these unfortunate circumstances.

Your father and I are very worried about you, but we are sure Uncle Gerald will see that you are brought safely back.

All our love, darling,

Mama

There was a note from my father, telling me to take great care and follow Major Merrivale’s instructions, then we should all soon be together.

Enclosed was a note from Charles.
Lucky you
.
Having all the fun
.
Charles
.

I lifted my eyes to Madame Rochère who was watching me closely.

“Your parents are very wise,” she said. “I know your uncle is Colonel Greenham and he will be able to arrange for the safe conduct of both you and Annabelinda. Now we must await the arrival of Major Merrivale, and you must be ready to leave as soon as he comes.”

“Yes, Madame Rochère.”

I said good-bye to the soldier and thanked him. Then I sped away to the dormitories to find Annabelinda and tell her what had happened.

That evening we heard the startling news. Germany had invaded Belgium, and on the following day, the fourth of August, Great Britain declared war on Germany.

Two days passed. Most of the girls had left by now. Miss Carruthers stayed on. She said she could not leave until all the English girls had gone. The trains were running intermittently.

Had we not been told to wait for Major Merrivale, we would have gone to Valenciennes; but that might have been unwise, as the French were now at war.

The most immediate danger was the invasion of Belgium, and each hour we lived in trepidation of what might happen to us. We knew that Belgium was defenseless against the might of Germany’s army; and we did not have to be told that each day they were penetrating further and coming nearer and nearer.

We did not stray far from the school, in case Major Merrivale arrived. I thought of the anxiety my parents would be suffering. It would be even greater than ours, for they were completely in the dark.

Then came a day of terror. We had heard rumors that the Germans were advancing rapidly. We were not quite sure how far we could trust that rumor, but I could not help wondering whether they would reach us before Major Merrivale came.

I was with Annabelinda in the gardens close to the school when disaster struck from the sky. I had never seen a Zeppelin before and was unsure what it was up there among the clouds. I was soon to discover.

As the light caught this large, rather cumbersome cylindrical airship, it looked as though it were made of silver.

It was almost overhead. I stood still, watching, and saw something fall. There was a loud explosion which nearly knocked me down; then I saw the smoke and flames.

To my horror I realized that the bomb had fallen near the cottages.

My throat was dry. I shouted, “They’ve struck the cottages! There are people there! The Plantains…the baby!”

I started to run toward them. Annabelinda tried to restrain me.

“Keep away,” she cried. “You’ll get hurt.”

I pushed aside her hand. I heard myself crying out, “There’s the baby!”

And I ran. I forgot Annabelinda. I could only think of the Plantains and Edouard. I could not see the cottage. Smoke was in my eyes; the acrid smell filled my nostrils. I saw the airship floating farther away. It was going now that it had deposited its lethal cargo.