The Child Left Behind (3 page)

Increasingly preoccupied with the girl that had so entranced him, Finn was all fingers and thumbs on his first day as Captain Hamilton’s batman and didn’t seem to hear when the captain spoke to him.

In the end Hamilton said with irritation, ‘Sullivan, is anything the matter? You seem very distracted.’

‘No, sir. Sorry, sir.’

‘And you have such a dreamy expression on your face that I suspect you maybe in love,’ the captain continued.

Finn bent his head to hide the blush, but he was too late and Hamilton burst out, ‘By Jove, that’s it, isn’t it? I’ve hit the nail on the head. You’ve fallen for someone.’

‘Oh, no, sir. Nothing like that,’ Finn said rather forlornly. ‘I have just seen a girl I think is so very beautiful. She was with a man I presumed to be her father, but I haven’t spoken to her or anything.’

‘So you don’t know who it is you’ve lost your heart to?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Describe her to me,’ the captain commanded.

‘Oh, sir, she is just wonderful,’ Finn cried. ‘She has dark hair and it hangs down her back and it rippled and shone in the autumn sunlight, and she had a pert little nose, and her eyes set her face alight, and her blushes only make her more attractive.’

Hamilton laughed gently. ‘You have got it bad,’ he said. ‘Did you take any notice of the man?’

‘Oh, yes, sir,’ Finn said. ‘I took particular note of him because I couldn’t see how he had fathered such a good-looking girl.’

‘He wouldn’t win any beauty contest then?’

‘No, sir,’ said Finn with a chuckle. ‘He is quite tall and portly, and he has a fine head of hair though it is steel grey, but his face has a sort of forbidding look about it. His eyes look almost hooded, his nose is long and his mouth wide, though not much of it could be seen because he sported a large moustache that was as grey as the hair on his head.’

‘Now,’ said Hamilton, ‘a word of warning. You steer well clear of that girl and you can take that look off your face, man. I was young myself once and I know what it is to yearn after a woman who is unattainable—and believe me, Gabrielle Jobert is as unattainable as they come.’

‘Gabrielle,’ Finn breathed, thinking the name suited that lovely creature so well.

Hamilton nodded. ‘I am pretty certain that is who she is from the description that you have given me of her father. Pierre Jobert is an unpleasant and ugly kind of character and he rules those girls—even his wife, Mariette, so it’s said—with a rod of iron. I have seen that for myself. The girls are seldom out alone and what he is protecting them from are the lusty British soldier boys strutting about the place. Lay a hand on
Miss Jobert, and her father, in all likelihood, would tear you from limb to limb.’

‘Believe me, sir, I mean her no harm,’ Finn muttered earnestly.

‘Of course you do, man,’ Hamilton said. ‘What you would really like to do is take her out for a tumble in the nearest available cornfield.’

‘No, sir.’ Finn was shocked.

‘Then you are not the man that I took you to be,’ Hamilton replied. ‘I recognise the feeling running through you well. The point is, Sullivan, frustration doesn’t bode well in a soldier. You have to have your wits about you on the battlefield. There is no place there for mooning over a girl you have a fantasy about.’

‘No, sir.’

‘Isn’t there another you can take up with?’

‘I was warned not to touch those girls, sir.’

‘Not the camp followers, no,’ Hamilton said. ‘But there might be others in the town not so well guarded or regarded, who might welcome a dalliance with a soldier. Believe me, when you have a real live girl in your arms you will get over this fixation on Gabrielle Jobert.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Finn said. He knew, though, no matter what he said, he wouldn’t go looking for any girl in the town. When a person has seen perfection first-hand, he is not likely to settle for second best.

‘Anyway,’ Hamilton went on after a while, ‘Jobert may be no oil painting, but I have it on good authority that he just happens to be the best
baker in the town and so that is where I want you to go now. His shop is on Rue Allen and his name is above the shop, along with the word “
Boulangerie
”, which means baker. See, I have written it down for you, and I’ve written down what you must say too.’

‘
Bonjour. Avez-vous une ficelle?
’ Finn read out.

‘Not bad,’ Hamilton said approvingly. ‘Off you go then. I want that bread today, not tomorrow.’

Once out in the streets, Finn’s pulse quickened at the thought that he might see Gabrielle again. She might even serve in the shop. He deliberately hadn’t asked the captain if she did, because he guessed, by the amused smile on Hamilton’s face, that he had been waiting for him to do just that.

Gabrielle did serve in her father’s shop. Just to be near to her caused Finn’s heart to thump almost painfully against his ribs. His mouth was so dry that he wondered if he would be able to speak. He didn’t want to hand the piece of paper over as if he were a deaf mute. He had practised the sentence on the way so that he wouldn’t make an utter fool of himself and he continued to practise as he stood in the queue waiting to be served.

Though she made no sign, Gabrielle was only too aware that he was there. She couldn’t understand her attraction to the young soldier, who she could tell by his uniform served in the British Army, but she studied him surreptitiously as she served the other customers. He wasn’t as tall as her father, or as broad, but he looked fit, and his shoulders
were well muscled. He wore no greatcoat that day and he looked so smart in his khaki uniform. His boots shone and his putties too were spotless.

He had removed his cap when he entered the shop and stood twisting it between his hands nervously. Gabrielle saw his hair was dark brown, his eyes were encircled with long black lashes, and his brow above them was puckered as if in concentration. Then the last customer left and the shop was empty except for Gabrielle, her mother and Finn. The mother turned to Gabrielle, said something to her and walked through to the back. Then Gabrielle faced Finn and smiled as she said, ‘
Bonjour, Monsieur. Vous desirez?
’

Her voice was just as melodious and charming as Finn had imagined it would be, and though he hadn’t understood what she said, he assumed that she was offering to serve him and so he replied, ‘
Bonjour, Mademoiselle. Avez-vous une ficelle
?’

Gabrielle clapped her hands in delight. ‘
Très bon
,’ she said, and added in an accent that totally bewitched Finn, ‘Very good, but we can talk in English, soldier, if it is easier for you.’

‘That’s fantastic,’ Finn cried. ‘I am so impressed. I never expected…’

‘Most of the townspeople speak only French,’ Gabrielle said, reaching for the bread he had asked for. ‘And they have never seen the need to learn other languages, but my maternal grandmother was half-English. She lived with us until she died, and though she spoke French most of the time, she
spoke in English to me and my sister, Yvette. She always said learning another language was a good thing. It has been so useful now with so many English-speaking soldiers in the town.’

‘I can well imagine that,’ Finn said, taking the bread from Gabrielle. Their fingers touched for a brief second and a tingle ran through Finn’s arm.

‘Will that be all, soldier?’ Gabrielle asked.

Finn wanted to say no, say he wanted to stay and talk, but he was mindful of the captain’s warning about the girl’s father. Also the captain would be waiting for the bread, so he said regretfully, ‘I’m afraid it is, so I must say goodbye.’

‘Oh, not goodbye,’ Gabrielle smiled. ‘We are sure to meet again. Shall we say
au revoir
?’

Just the way that she said it and the way that she was looking at him was causing Finn’s heart to flip over and only willpower kept the shake out of his voice as he said, ‘
Au revoir
it is then.’ He left the shop and floated on air all the way back to Headquarters.

Every day that week, Hamilton sent Finn to the baker’s and every day he was increasingly charmed and bewitched by Gabrielle. He was surprised that she never seemed to hear the thump of his heart in his breast at the sight of her.

On Saturday, on his way to the baker’s, he had to weave his way through the crowded market that was held in the square in front of the
hôtel de ville
, which Captain Hamilton had told him was
the town hall. Produce of every description was piled high on carts, barrows and trestle tables, and it reminded Finn of the Saturday market at Buncrana. It was a day such as this that he had stepped forward to enlist in the British Army, and for a moment he thought of them all at home and a wave of homesickness took him by surprise.

As he was making ready to return to his company on Saturday evening, he asked if he had leave in the morning to attend Mass.

‘Should have guessed you were a Catholic,’ Hamilton said.

‘Yes, sir,’ Finn said. ‘I didn’t get to go last week because we were just so busy transporting the wounded, but I thought—’

‘You thought that as all you are doing is attending to my creature comforts, you feel justified in leaving me to my own devices and attending to your immortal soul, is that it?’ Hamilton asked with a wry grin.

Finn wasn’t sure whether he was angry with him or not, though he knew that he was often sarcastic, so he said hesitantly. ‘Well, sir, it’s just…You see, sir…a Catholic is expected…’

Hamilton decided that he had enjoyed Finn’s discomfort long enough. ‘I am joking, Private Finn Sullivan,’ he said with a broad smile. ‘I wouldn’t like to be held responsible for you committing a sin by missing Mass and so if you make my breakfast, then you are free for the rest of the day.’

‘The whole day, sir?’ Finn said delighted. ‘Thank you, sir.’

In their brief forays through the town, Christy and Finn had decided to attend Mass at the cathedral, Notre Dame des Miracles, which was on Rue des Tribunaux towards the edge of town, and so the following day they made their way there. The cathedral was an imposing building, built of grey brick and approached up a set of stone steps.

‘It isn’t all that big, though, is it?’ Finn said. ‘I always thought that cathedrals were bigger places.’

‘How many cathedrals have you seen, then?’

‘Well, not that many,’ Finn replied with a grin. ‘None, in fact.’

‘Exactly,’ Christy replied. ‘Anyway, things are probably different here. Let’s go and have a look anyway.’ As they ascended the steps he said, ‘One of the lads in the mess was telling me about some tale of the shoes left on top of the tomb of some saint or other in this church.’

‘A patron saint of shoes?’ Finn asked incredulously.

‘No, you dope.’ Christy said. ‘Parents who have children with walking problems pray to him and leave shoes on his tomb.’

‘Was he having you on?’

‘Don’t think so.’

‘Well, it’s a very odd thing to do,’ Finn said. ‘I can’t wait to see that for myself.’ He opened the door as he spoke and stepped inside.

The cathedral was very beautiful. It was held up by gigantic pillars, and many flickering candles illuminated the elaborate golden screen above the ornate altar, while autumn sunshine shone through the domed stained-glass windows bathing the interior in shafts of vibrant colour.

Finn spotted, among the tombstones set around the edges of the church, the gilded tomb of St Erkembode, a collection of shoes of all shapes and sizes lining the top. The strains of the organ began and the two soldiers hurriedly entered a pew. But then all the beauty and splendour of the cathedral mattered little to Finn as he had spotted the Jobert family just two pews in front of him.

After that, he went through the Latin responses in an almost mechanical manner, anxious to get the Mass over and done with so that he could gaze on Gabrielle’s beautiful face once more. Her family were taking Communion ahead of Finn and Christy so that they were going to the rails as she was returning. Her eyes met Finn’s and once more she gave him that shy, tentative smile before bending her head over her joined hands.

Finn felt his heart skip a beat. Her smile was so wondrous he thought as he kneeled down at the rails to receive Communion; it was just as if she had bestowed a gift on him.

When the Mass was over, Finn led Christy out of the side door, knowing that that way he would be out before the Joberts, as people would probably
mill on the steps outside the front door, as they did in most churches.

Christy, who hadn’t noticed the Joberts in the congregation, was surprised by the unseemly haste in which Finn was leaving, and a bit annoyed. He wouldn’t have minded taking a look round as the church emptied, and as they reached the alleyway the side door opened on to, he said, ‘What’s your hurry, Finn?’

Finn didn’t answer but continued to move up the alleyway, from which he could see the main doors of the church without being observed himself.

‘So what are we now hanging about here for?’ Christy said. ‘We should head back, shouldn’t we?’

‘In a minute,’ Finn said, because he had seen Gabrielle framed in the doorway and his heart had started to turn somersaults.

Christy followed his gaze and sighed. So that was it. Finn and his fixation on the Jobert girl. ‘You are heading for bloody trouble, if you ask me.’

‘Well, I haven’t asked you,’ Finn said. ‘Weren’t you the one that said soldiers should take risks? And this is the time to take them, because you are a bloody long time dead.’

At that moment a group of chattering girls, running round the corner at speed, almost cannoned into him. There was a flurry of apologies before Finn realised that one of the girls was Gabrielle’s young sister. He saw that Gabrielle was now out of church and on the steps beside their parents, who were in conversation.

Yvette Jobert recognised Finn at the same time and bobbed a little curtsy. ‘
Bonjour, Monsieur
.’

‘
Bonjour, Mademoiselle
,’ Finn replied, raising his hat.

The girls giggled at Finn’s response and the sound drew Gabrielle’s attention. She turned and, spotting her sister, came towards them. When she saw Finn and Christy she coloured bright pink before turning to her sister and speaking sharply to her in French.