Читать книгу The Child Left Behind - Anne Bennett - Страница 8

Gabrielle too had been trying to think of a way that she could meet Finn secretly, but her mind drew a blank, particularly while the weather remained so foul. She knew too that even if the rain eased off, winter was setting in and if she suggested going for a walk in the freezing cold, or with snow underfoot, even her mother might be suspicious for her need to be outdoors.

It wasn’t fair to drag Yvette out with her either. She couldn’t see any way around the problem and she began to dread seeing Finn come into the shop, or glimpse him at Mass, because to see him and not be able to communicate with him in any way was terribly hard for her.

The day after Finn had checked out the farmhouse Captain Hamilton sent him to the baker’s shop again. Gabrielle was alone because her mother had been struck down with her chronic indigestion and had gone to bed. Finn, looking through the shop window, decided to risk Hamilton’s anger at his tardiness and he hung about outside until the last customer left.

Gabrielle’s eyes leaped at the sight of him and he was by her side in seconds.

‘Where’s your mother?’ he whispered urgently.

‘In bed with her old stomach problem,’ Gabrielle said. ‘Oh, Finn, how I have longed to see you.’

‘And I you, darling,’ Finn said. ‘But we might have little time to talk and the point is I have found a place we can go.’

‘Where?’ Gabrielle cried incredulously.

‘Ssh,’ Finn cautioned. He explained where the house was and the condition of it, then went on, ‘It’s far enough away from the camp to be undiscovered. Most of the service men go straight into town and not over a muddy field. It has a little copse in front of it, which means a ready supply of wood for the fire and even a plank over the canal.’

‘I know where it is,’ Gabrielle said, remembering back to a time before the war. ‘That place belonged to a taciturn old man called Bernard Reynaud. He was hardly ever seen in the town and he seemed to have no family. He died in the winter of 1913, and when war was declared the land was commandeered by the army. I’m surprised that the farmhouse is still standing.’

‘We could meet there after you are supposed to be in bed at night,’ Finn said.

Gabrielle didn’t hesitate. Her need to see Finn was greater than respectability, or even caution. ‘To get out unseen and unheard,’ she said, ‘I will have to climb down the tree.’

‘Would you be prepared to do that?’ Finn asked. ‘Wouldn’t you be frightened?’

‘I would go to the ends of the earth for you,’ Gabrielle said. ‘I thought you knew that. I will probably be a little afraid, but I would still do it if you are there to help me,’

Finn suddenly noticed a man studying the bakery shop window and he said quickly, ‘Of course I’ll be there to help you. I’ll be in the yard by the tree tonight at half-past nine.’

He was halfway back to Headquarters when he realised that he had forgotten to buy the bread and pastries he had been sent for and had to return for them. By then, though, the shop was crowded and he had no opportunity to say anything further to Gabrielle. But what do I care? he thought. I have tonight to look forward to.

Gabrielle had no chance to speak to her sister privately until they reached their bedroom that same evening and then she told her quickly about Finn’s earlier visit to the shop and the deserted farmhouse that he had found. Yvette was excited at the news initially, but then thoroughly alarmed when Gabrielle told her that she was meeting him that night and climbing down the beech tree outside their window to do so.

‘It is the only way,’ she told Yvette, seeing the worried look on her sister’s face. ‘If I tried to creep down the stairs I would be heard, you know that.’

‘But you can’t climb down a tree,’ Yvette cried. ‘And what if Papa finds out?’

‘He won’t,’ Gabrielle said confidently. ‘They sleep on the other side of the house.’

Yvette crossed to the window and looked out. ‘It’s an awfully long way down.’

‘I have climbed into that tree before,’ Gabrielle said. ‘On summer nights, when I am too hot to sleep, I will often sit out in the top branches, but I always waited until you were asleep before I did that.’

‘Yes, but I bet you have never climbed all the way down, and in the dark.’

‘No I haven’t,’ Gabrielle admitted. ‘And I won’t do it now until I hear Finn arrive in the yard below. One day you will probably meet a boy or man that you will love with all your heart and soul, and if you were kept from him, you’d feel that your life was not worth living.’

‘I can’t ever imagine my life not worth living,’ Yvette said. ‘Is that how you feel about Finn?’

‘Yes, Yvette, it is,’ Gabrielle said. ‘And remember, Finn is a soldier. Any day he could be snatched away. We must take any chance we can to be together.’

Yvette sighed. ‘I can see that you have no alternative, but you needn’t worry: even if I don’t like what you’re doing, I’ll never betray you.’

‘I know that. You are a lovely little sister and if Papa ever finds out, you must deny all knowledge and I’ll back you up.’

Before Yvette was able to reply they heard the sound of feet on the gravel in the yard below and a low whistle.

Gabrielle tied her cape around her waist, opened the window and shivered as the cold night air tumbled in.

‘Au revoir, Yvette,’ she said as she swung her legs over the sill and, catching hold of the branches, pulled herself into the tree. There was no moon or stars visible through those thick, rain-filled clouds, but the light from the bedroom lit the top of the tree and the heavy beam of Finn’s army-issue torch illuminated the lower branches.

In a moment Gabrielle was down and in Finn’s arms, and kissing him hungrily.

Though their need for each other was great, Gabrielle and Finn knew better than to linger or make any sound in the yard. They stopped only long enough for Gabrielle to rearrange her clothes and put on her cape, and then they were away, stealing through the darkened streets of St-Omer.

Yvette sighed again and closed the window, but did not fasten it so that Gabrielle could open it when she returned. Then she surveyed the room critically. Gabrielle’s bed was so obviously empty; should their mother peep in on them, as she very occasionally did, she would see that immediately.

So Yvette made a mound of clothes in Gabrielle’s bed, shaped just as if she was in it. And if she pretended to be asleep too then she didn’t think her mother would risk rousing them by taking the lamp further into the room. Yvette undressed and got into bed, but though she snuffed out the lamp she intended to stay awake until Gabrielle returned.

Finn and Gabrielle took the back roads and alleys through the town to avoid meeting people. They longed to scurry along quickly, but held back, their senses alert to any noise that would mean they should hide themselves.

However, they reached Rue Therouanna, at the very end of town, without incident. At the bottom of the road the canal was in front of them.

As they walked the deserted banks, leaving the town further behind, Finn thought they were far enough away from being overheard to whisper to Gabrielle, ‘It’s just a little further to the bridge and it comes out by the little copse of trees near the house. Take care how you cross because it’s a bit rickety.’

When Gabrielle saw the bridge, it had obviously seen better days she thought it safe enough, and the two of them crossed with no trouble. In the shelter of the trees, Finn put his arms around Gabrielle and she leaned against him with a sigh.

‘You’re shivering,’ he said. ‘Are you cold?’

‘No, said Gabrielle, not really cold. I think I’m shivering with excitement.’

‘Come on then,’ Finn said. ‘Let’s go. My insides are churning too. Good job I’ve got such a powerful torch. The ground is boggy and the potholes are filled with icy water.’

‘I’ve brought a torch too.’

‘Keep it safe for later,’ Finn advised. ‘Mine is probably more powerful and using one will give me an excuse to hold you closer.’

‘Ah, yes, please,’ Gabrielle laughed and she snuggled so close against Finn that he could feel her heart thudding.

Gabrielle was quite enchanted at the cosiness of the house. A bright fire was burning in the grate, the place was lit by the kerosene lamp and Finn had a grey army-issue blanket over the sofa.

‘Oh, Finn,’ she exclaimed, ‘I never expected it to be so nice!’

‘I have cleaned it up a bit,’ Finn admitted. ‘Take off your cape and let us sit by the fire. I so desperately want to kiss you.’

Gabrielle knew that by creeping out of the house to meet a man, let alone allowing that man to hold and kiss her, was very wicked and if she was found out she would be beyond the bounds of respectable society. And yet she had agreed to come with Finn to this lonely farmhouse because she loved him so much she was prepared to risk everything and she gave herself over to the excitement she felt when Finn’s lips met hers.

She didn’t know that the feelings running through her body were the awaking of her sexuality. In fact, the only thing she was sure of was that she loved and trusted Finn. He said he would never hurt her and she believed him.

Finn didn’t kiss her properly, fearing that it might frighten her. When he eventually pulled away before he forgot himself completely, Gabrielle groaned in disappointment, for she had wanted the kiss to go on and on.

‘Tell me about yourself,’ she said to Finn later as she lay in his arms. ‘You know about my life and I need to know about yours.’

‘Not that much to tell, to be honest,’ Finn said. ‘My life up until now has been anything but exciting.’

‘You said before that you were from Ireland.’ Gabrielle said, ‘What’s Ireland like? Did you have a farm?’

‘Oh, aye,’ said Finn, and he told Gabrielle about the little cottage on the farm in Buncrana, County Donegal, where he had been born and raised. ‘As for Ireland, I can’t describe it all to you, but just the place where I was born,’ he went on. ‘Donegal is totally different countryside from this. It’s far more hilly—mountainous even, in places. The hills of Donegal are famous. People write poems and songs about them and until the day I marched away with the army I had never left it.’

‘That’s how it is, though, isn’t it?’ Gabrielle said. ‘You never leave the place of your birth in the normal way of things. I have never left St-Omer because I have never had any reason to.’

‘Have you never wondered what is beyond the town? Wanted to find out, explore?’

Gabrielle shook her head. ‘No, not really.’ Then she added, ‘I have an aunt in Paris whom I wouldn’t mind visiting. She is lovely, and promised me that when I was older I could stay with her for a holiday. She has suggested it a few times but my father has always refused.’

‘Why?’

‘He said my help was needed in the shop.’

‘Is it?’

‘Sometimes, when Maman is ill,’ Gabrielle admitted. ‘She can do little then, but my life will probably get easier when Yvette leaves school in the spring, when she will be fourteen. Apart from that I have never had any desire to go anywhere.’

‘Oh, I always wanted to find out about other places,’ Finn said. ‘I used to become irritated with my brothers sometimes, especially Tom. Though I suppose as the farm will be all his one day he has reason enough to be contented.’

‘Have many brothers have you?’

‘Two,’ Finn said. ‘Tom is the eldest and Joe is two years younger. When I was small they used to play Irish music. Tom played a violin, though we used to call it a fiddle, and Joe would play a tin whistle.’

‘What sort of music was it?’

‘Most of it was jolly enough stuff,’ Finn said, ‘tunes that have been performed for years, and my sister Aggie would dance.’

‘You have a sister too?’

‘I had two sisters,’ Finn said, ‘but the elder, Aggie was a fine dancer. Everyone said it and she was at it every spare minute.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘Tom said he wouldn’t be surprised if she danced in her sleep.’

‘It all sounds so nice,’ Gabrielle smiled.

‘It was,’ Finn admitted. ‘I was sorry when it all stopped. I would hear the music through the walls when I was in bed, and the slap of Aggie’s feet on the floor.’

‘Why did it stop?’

‘Oh, that’s a long story,’ Finn said. ‘I mustn’t keep you long from your bed either because you have to get up early and my bugle call is earlier still.’

‘You mean we must go home already?’

‘Not quite,’ Finn said. ‘I haven’t been kissed enough to satisfy. And remember, my darling love, this isn’t just one stolen moment. We can come here as often as we like, though I work with a company of soldiers who would think it mighty odd if I was to disappear every night and not tell anyone where I was going, and suspicion is something that we must not raise in anyone’s mind.’

‘Oh, but—’

‘Gabrielle, listen to me,’ Finn pleaded. ‘You are so protected that you may not be aware of this, but the town is far more crowded on Friday and Saturday evenings.’

Gabrielle nodded. ‘My father goes out on Saturday evening.’

‘There you are then,’ Finn said. ‘And Friday night is just as busy. All my fellow soldiers go into town on those nights, unless they are on duty, and many locals are abroad too. It’s too risky to come here then. We could easily be spotted by someone.’

‘And tomorrow is Friday,’ Gabrielle said. ‘I will miss you.’

‘I will miss you too,’ Finn smiled. ‘But we must be careful. ‘Dream about Sunday, when we will make for here again and I will kiss you until you are breathless.’

‘Maybe we should practise that?’ Gabrielle said coquettishly.

Finn gave a gurgle of laughter as he gathered Gabrielle into his arms and wondered if a person could die through sheer happiness.

‘So, where did you slope off to last night?’ Christy asked Finn the next morning as they made their way to work.

‘That’s my business.’

‘Come on, Finn. I thought we were supposed to be mates.’

‘We are,’ Finn said. ‘Me wanting to keep certain things to myself doesn’t alter that. Let’s just say that I had bigger fish to fry last night.’

Christy looked at him in astonishment. ‘That sounds like you have found yourself a woman.’

‘Well, what if I have?’

‘You’re a bloody quick worker, that’s all I can say. For weeks you went round snapping the head off everyone because of some devotion to Gabrielle Jobert.’

‘And you thought I was crazy and told me so.’

‘I did,’ Christy said. ‘I’m glad that you have come to your senses. I don’t suppose that this new woman of yours has got any sisters or friends that you could introduce me to?’

‘I’m not introducing you to anyone,’ Finn said. ‘Get your own woman, like I did.’

‘Well, that’s a mate for you,’ Christy said, slightly affronted. ‘Anyone decent would take pity on me and put in a word.’

‘Good job then that I don’t consider myself the decent sort.’

‘What’s her name then?’

‘That really is my business,’ Finn said, as they went up the steps of the Headquarters. ‘Anyway, we’re here now. See you tonight.’

Finn was glad that, without him having to say much, his friend had jumped to the wrong conclusion about the girl that he was seeing, as Captain Hamilton had.

The captain was glad to see a smile on Finn’s face for once. ‘Good God, man,’ he said, ‘I thought your face was set in that glum expression you’ve carried around for weeks now.’

Finn had a large grin on his face as he said, ‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.’

‘You don’t look in the slightest bit sorry,’ the captain said with a smile. ‘Did the constant rain get you down too?’

‘A bit, sir. Sometimes the clothes I put on each morning were not what you might call bone dry, and that sort of starts the day off all wrong.’

‘All well,’ the captain said, ‘the weather is the one thing that none of us can do the slightest thing about. Now, tonight I am going to a dinner with the top brass. Between you and me, something big is afoot. Anyway my dress uniform must be spotless.’

‘I’ll deal with that directly, sir,’ Finn said. ‘By the time I have finished you will be the best dressed man there, sir.’

Christy had lost no time in telling the whole camp that Finn Sullivan was seeing a girl from the town. Consequently, Finn came in for a fair bit of teasing, because he was one who had spurned the camp followers and now the dirty sod was having it away with some French piece.

‘What’s she like?’ one of Finn’s comrades asked. ‘I’ve heard these little French damsels like a little bit of the altogether.’

Finn could hardly blame him for thinking that way. He himself had thought the French girls ripe for sex. However, he had found that most of the ordinary girls in St-Omer seemed very like the ones in his home town, and just as hidebound by the Catholic Church. But he was not going to share details of his love life with his jeering fellow soldiers, though he did say, ‘You are altogether too anxious to get your leg over and the girls sense that. No wonder few of them will give you the time of day.’

There were hoots and howls of derision at Finn’s words and another man called out, ‘Now he is going to try and have us believe that all he does with his little French number is hold hands.’

Finn hid his smile for he had done little else. He knew that holding a girl in his arms and kissing her luscious lips would be considered incredibly tame by his comrades. However, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Gabrielle and so, whatever it cost him, he would respect her until he placed that very special ring on her finger. But he said none of this, and he bore the ribaldry directed his way.

Eventually, they tired of it, as he knew they would, and then he remarked quietly to Christy, ‘Do you fancy doing something together this evening?’

Christy eyed him speculatively. ‘Haven’t you got bigger fish to fry tonight?’

‘No.’

‘Had words, have you?’

‘No, we haven’t had words,’ Finn said. ‘Her parents don’t want her to go out at the weekends because there are too many marauding soldiers about.’

‘Funny then that they let her go out with you.’

‘Maybe they think that I am not the marauding type,’ Finn said.

Christy gave a wry chuckle. ‘If they really believe that, then I think they must be truly stupid, for you’re as lusty as any other man.’

Finn laughed and he clapped Christy on the back. ‘No change there then. So do you want to go out with this lustful man this evening or don’t you?’

Christy put his head on one side as if considering the proposal, then said, ‘D’you know, I don’t mind if I do.’

Finn did, however, tell at least something of his relationship with Gabrielle in his letter to his brothers, which provoked much interest and speculation between Tom and Joe.

I have to tell you both, I have met the most wonderful girl and her name is Gabrielle. She is the most beautiful girl in the whole world. She isn’t a camp follower, I don’t want you to think that, but a respectable girl from a decent Catholic family in the town. I saw her and her younger sister, Yvette, walking through the town with their father a few weeks ago. He hardly lets the two girls out of his sight and I can’t say I blame him, with the place teeming with soldiers, but I did manage to sneak a word with her and we are in love and I can’t tell you how happy I am.

‘Well, well, well,’ Joe said, folding up the letter and handing it back to Tom. ‘I thought that the purpose of our young brother going to France was to fight the Hun, not try and bed every girl in the whole country.’

‘He has never said he loved anyone before.’

‘You know what?’ Joe said. ‘All that means is that this Gabrielle has held out longer than the others.’

‘You think that’s all it is?’

‘Don’t you?’ Joe said. ‘He’s a boy. What does he know of love?’

‘Huh! What do any of us?’

‘Well, that’s true, I suppose,’ Joe conceded. ‘I expect you know when it hits you. But you need to have more experience than Finn.’

Tom laughed. ‘To judge from his letters he has had more experience than both you and me together.’

‘I still don’t see where he has the time,’ Joe grumbled.

‘Well, they have free time sometimes.’

‘In the middle of a battle? It isn’t a matter of saying to the advancing German armies, “Hold your hand, chaps, while I have a quick dalliance with a French damsel.”’

‘Sure this isn’t just sour grapes?’ Tom asked.

Joe sighed. ‘You know. Tom, you could be right. Don’t get me wrong. I know war is a serious business and I do miss Finn and worry about him, and I know he can tell us very few details, but he does seem to be leading the life of Riley at the moment.’

Nuala knew that her brother was in love, because in his letter to her he had poured out his heart, knowing that she wouldn’t laugh at him. She would be sixteen in the spring of 1916 and it thrilled her that her brother Finn, who she loved dearly, was beginning his very own love story.

She guessed he would not have said face to face what he committed to paper, for he spoke about his limbs trembling when he was near Gabrielle, the way his heart turned over when she smiled at him and the tingle that ran between them when they held hands. Her romantic soul drank it in eagerly and she wrote a supportive letter back to him.

Nuala would have liked to have discussed Finn’s letter and his declaration of love for Gabrielle with her brothers. She wouldn’t have divulged all the romantic things that she guessed were for her eyes only, but it was difficult to talk to them about anything without her mother hearing and it would never do for her to learn about Finn’s romance. That would be the very last thing Finn would want.

It wasn’t that they never talked of Finn; sometimes Nuala thought they talked of little else, for her mother would almost dissect every word he wrote to her and they would talk about him as a happy young child. They remembered that he usually went about the place with a smile on his face and his laughter often used to echo around the yard.

‘He would talk nonstop sometimes,’ Thomas John said one night. ‘And plague me to death with questions wanting to know the whys and wherefores of every damned thing. I would often tell him to stop his blether and give me some peace, but what I’d give now to hear him chuntering away.’

They all knew what Thomas John meant. They missed Finn and when he had been gone some months Thomas John began to look forward to the end of the war and Finn coming home. He’d say things like, ‘When Finn is back where he belongs, I’ll look to getting a few more cows.’ Or, ‘When the lad’s back home, I’ve a mind to till that top field that’s lying fallow just now.’

The end of the war seemed as far away as ever as 1915 drew to a close. Finn and Gabrielle’s lovemaking grew more ardent as the days and then weeks passed. If they met in the park, they were as respectable as they had been in the beginning. It was different in the confines of the farmhouse though December was halfway through before Finn kissed Gabrielle properly.

She was astounded at first, and quite perturbed by the strange yearnings coursing through her body and the moan she let slip. When she felt Finn feeling her clothed body, it felt so right, so good that she let him continue.

Afterwards, in her bed, she remembered what Finn had done and how it had made her feel, and she grew hot with shame. Yet she knew she would do it all again, for when she was with him all form of reason, even what was wrong or right, didn’t seem to matter any more. Further than this, though, Finn refused to go. He was more experienced than Gabrielle and knew just how easy it was to lose control, but he was aware that it got more difficult and frustrating every time he pulled away.

Finn often talked of his family and Gabrielle loved hearing of them all.

One night, as they snuggled together, Gabrielle said, ‘You told me all about your sister Aggie a while ago. You said everyone had a good time with the music and everything. Why did it stop?’

‘Well,’ said Finn, ‘that was a mystery and a half. You see, one day Aggie just disappeared.’

‘Disappeared?’

‘Aye,’ Finn said. ‘She was fifteen and they say she ran away with the gypsies. I was only five and I was scared of gypsies for some time after that. But as I grew up, I was less and less sure, because it would be such an odd thing for her to do. Tom never believed that story either, and he and Aggie were close. Not that we could talk about it openly, because our mother disowned her and we were forbidden to speak her name, but I would sometimes hear my brothers talking about her when they didn’t know I was there.’

‘So what do you think did happen to her?’

Finn shook his head. ‘I don’t know, and likely never will.’

‘That is awful,’ Gabrielle said. ‘She was only two years younger than I am now, and to just disappear like that…’

‘I know,’ Finn said. ‘I remember the Guards coming and all, and no trace could be found of her. The point was she had nowhere to go. She had apparently taken clothes, not that any of us had many, but she had no money at all.’

‘What a terribly sad story.’

‘Aye,’ Finn said. ‘Aggie brought me up nearly as much as my mother did and was very much nicer and kinder altogether, and I remember crying for days. I kept getting into trouble because I kept forgetting we weren’t supposed to mention her name.’

‘But you were only a little boy.’

‘That didn’t matter to my mother,’ Finn said. ‘She used to fly into the most terrifying rages. I tell you, Gabrielle, they would scare the stoutest of hearts. We are all scared of her, Tom most of all, and she has a cane hanging up by the fire that we have felt the sting of. She beat me with it one day when I mentioned Aggies’s name by mistake, but my father put a stop to it when he found out.’

‘So he was kinder?’

Finn considered this. ‘I suppose,’ he said at last. ‘Fairer, maybe. He is the only one Mammy listens to, but except for Nuala, hugs and kisses were just never part of our growing up.’

‘No, they wouldn’t have been in mine if my father had had his way,’ Gabrielle said. ‘But in that at least my mother defied him. My life seems so dull in comparison to yours, though. Is that the end of the story?’

‘Almost,’ Finn said. ‘In Ireland many people can make a story out of nothing and memories are kept alive by being spoken about from one to another, often for years. Aggie’s disappearance, though, and the speculation surrounding it was overshadowed, because only a few days afterwards, a man called McAllister, who taught the boys to play the tunes and the girls the dancing, was found dead.’

‘Was that a mystery too?’

‘No,’ Finn said. ‘He was apparently thrown from his horse. It was spoken about and discussed, and was quite the news for a while.’

‘What of your other sister?’ Gabrielle asked. ‘The one you said got all the hugs and kisses. Is there a story about her too?’

‘Not much of a one,’ said Finn, smiling at the thought of Nuala. ‘Maybe because she is the youngest my parents spoiled her terribly. She is four years younger than me and pretty as a picture and, despite my parents, she has a lovely nature. She is nursemaid to the children of the big Protestant family beside us and loving every minute of it.’ He looked at Gabrielle and smiled. ‘She knows all about you, for I write and tell her, and I would love you to meet her.’

‘I would like to meet them all,’ Gabrielle said.

‘And so you shall, my darling,’ Finn said. ‘Just as soon as the war is over, I am out of the army and the world is a safer place.’