The Pool of St. Branok (25 page)

“I still think of it as an extravagance.”

“Nonsense. I wanted to buy it. What is the good of having a wife if I can’t spend my winnings on her?”

So we walked home and that night I wore the dress. I loved it. It was beautiful—and very precious because Gervaise had given it to me.

Later I wished we had never seen the casino. But of course Gervaise knew it was there. He had been there before. It may well have been why he had chosen this place for our honeymoon.

I enjoyed the days when we walked or rode in the mountains; but I did sense in him a yearning to be in the town; when we visited it he would lead me to the casino and he would go in leaving me sitting there waiting for him. I could have gone with him, I suppose. I could have had my own little flutter; but I had no wish to. I always had the feeling that I should lose—and that would be two of us.

There were one or two occasions when he won but never as much as when he had bought the dress.

I remembered the family warning and what his mother had said. I was to be the steadying influence.

It was like a blight on our honeymoon. If only it could have gone on as it had begun. I had been so superbly happy in the beginning after my confession … happy as I had never thought to be again after that encounter at the pool. And Gervaise had made it possible. I would never forget that.

And then the visit to the casino! Every time I looked at the dress, I remembered—that feverish excitement, that desire to gamble. I, who did not have the slightest inclination to do so, found it difficult to understand the urge which seemed to come over Gervaise. He was like a different person when it was with him. Usually he was so relaxed, so carefree. This was an obsession.

We had spent two weeks at the
auberge
and were going home in three days’ time. We were some little distance from the railway station and there was an old carriage drawn by two rather aged horses which made short journeys when it was necessary and would take guests’ luggage to and from the station.

Two days before we were to leave, the carriage had to go to the station and Madame Bougerie said it would be convenient if our bags could be taken to the station then to save a journey.

I was rather sad, packing.

“Put everything you can in,” said Gervaise, “so that there is nothing we have to carry. Then we can walk down to the station when the time comes.”

I wondered afterwards what would have happened if the luggage had not been sent on in advance. He would not then have been able to do what he did.

That evening Gervaise went down to the town alone. I was rather tired. We had walked several miles during the afternoon and the casino did not attract me. I did not wish to partake in the gambling; nor did I wish to wait while Gervaise did. I found the place rather depressing in spite of the bright lights and the splendidly clad women. I detected in the faces of so many that frenzied look which I had seen in Gervaise.

He was very late back that night. I was relieved to see him. I had visions of his coming out from the casino with his winnings and being waylaid and set upon and robbed.

When I told him this he laughed.

“No one would have wanted to set upon me after the luck I have had tonight.”

“It seems to me that you hardly ever have any luck.”

“What? Think of that beautiful dress.”

“That was the only time—and you spent all that.”

“One day you will be surprised.”

I thought that he was a little less ready to laugh than usual. I did not know how bad it was until later.

The next morning we went down to the town. I was afraid he was going once more to the casino, but he did not.

“I think,” he said, “we should go and see if the luggage is all right.”

I was relieved. It seemed a good idea.

Even now I am not sure how it happened or why I allowed it to. He had brought the luggage out. The train was in the station. It was the train we should take to Paris.

A porter had seized our bags.

I cried: “He thinks we are going on the train.”

Gervaise did not answer. He allowed the porter to go and followed him, taking me with him.

“Explain to him,” I shouted.

“It’s all right,” said Gervaise. The porter put the bags on the train. Gervaise gave him some money.

I said: “What are you doing, Gervaise? How …?”

He turned to me and smiled and pushed me down into a seat.

“If you are not careful …” I began, “the train will go. … What game is this?”

“Wait and see,” he said.

The train had started to move and I cried out in alarm.

“It had to be,” said Gervaise. “It’s the only way. I was absolutely cleaned out.”

“What of Madame Bougerie’s bill?”

“I’ll send her the money.”

“But you didn’t explain.”

“How could I? She’d never understand. I’ll write.”

“What will she think?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Listen to me,” he said. “It was the only way. I paid last week. It is only one week owing. It was lucky about the luggage. That’s what gave me the idea last night. It is better to do it this way. There would have been a terrible fuss. Goodness knows what would have happened. I could never have got it over to her. You know she thinks she understands English.”

I sat back in my seat staring at him in horror.

“Thank goodness we had our return tickets,” he said. “You see, it all worked out.”

“Gervaise,” I said. “How could you? It is cheating, it is stealing …”

“No,” he said. “She’ll get the money. I’ll see that she gets it.” I sat down helplessly. I felt covered in shame.

No one is perfect. I must never forget his loving tenderness. I would always remember the first night of our marriage when he had miraculously lifted me out of my terror, when he had freed me from that haunting specter. Never, never must I forget that. And this … it was something they had warned me of. It was why my father had made some complicated arrangement about the settlement. I must do something. I could not allow us to cheat. I thought of the horror there would be in Madame Bougerie’s face when she realized her guests had left … without paying. How could he have done it … and in such a lighthearted way!

He might send the money in time. He would probably send more than he owed to make up for what he had done. But that was not the point. The money must be sent without delay.

I must do something.

The thought preoccupied me all the way home. Gone was the magic of the outward journey. Gervaise realized and was contrite.

“If I had known how much it was going to upset you,” he said, “I would have thought of something else.”

“There wasn’t anything else. You had gambled with the money which was really Madame Bougerie’s. It’s dishonest, Gervaise.”

“Not if I pay it back. I’ll send her extra for the trouble.”

We were staying at the Mandeville town house until we had a home of our own. There was no one to greet us because we had come earlier than had been expected. I was glad of this. I did not want to have to give explanations.

I would not rest until I had sent the money to Madame Bougerie.

I did know that the money my father had settled on me was to be kept in my name and that the capital could not be touched without the agreement of my parents. I was to get an income which would be paid to me. This had been agreed between my family and the Mandevilles. The income would not be large and I had not yet received the first installment. I needed money quickly and I knew approximately how much and it must be a little more because of the trouble we had caused. I wrote and asked my father for it.

It came almost at once. He guessed that I had had expenses on my honeymoon. I was relieved. I went to the bank and discovered I could change English money into French; and it was mailed off immediately to the
auberge.
I wrote a note apologizing for the trouble we had caused, explaining rather vaguely that we had had to return to England without delay, and if we had not caught that train we should have lost a day, so we had had to take it. I humbly begged Madame’s pardon for what must have seemed inexcusable behavior.

When the money had gone off I told Gervaise what I had done.

He looked at me sadly: “I’m sorry, Angelet,” he said. “You see the sort of a man you have married. Do you despise me?”

“Of course not. But it seemed … so awful, I couldn’t bear it.”

“I know. You are so good … so honest.”

“I’m not. I’m not. But going off like that … Please, please, Gervaise, don’t let us do anything like that again.”

“We won’t,” he said fervently. “I promise we won’t.”

He had been so wonderful to me. I had expected too much. People were not models of perfection. In a way I loved him more for his weakness. It seemed to strengthen me. I was no longer the innocent young girl to be led and guided. I had my responsibilities; and I was going to look after him.

I would make him see the risks and follies of gambling.

I was very innocent still.

I had a letter from Madame Bougerie thanking me for the money. She had known, of course, that it must have been something pressing which had made us leave so unexpectedly and never for one moment had she put a wrong construction on this. She understood perfectly and she hoped we would visit the
auberge
again, when we should be very welcome.

I did not suppose for one moment that she had not suspected the worst of us, but that was the diplomatic way of dealing with the matter and Madame Bougerie would always know how to do that. However, the incident had been brought to a satisfactory close as far as the
auberge
was concerned; and I was sure, in my new role as my husband’s guide and helpmeet, that where money was concerned such a thing would never happen again.

I gave myself up to the pleasure of househunting. This was particularly agreeable because Morwenna shared it with me. It seemed the most delightful coincidence that we were in London, both recent brides, looking for houses which were being given to us by indulgent fathers.

We laughed over this and when one of us went to look at a house, the other was always there.

We inspected numerous residences. Some would be too small, some too large; some were too far from the center of town and neither Justin nor Gervaise would like that. There was, we discovered, a similarity between our husbands. They were both what were called men about town. Justin appeared to have a private income from his family; Gervaise had an allowance from his. So it seemed inevitable that we should, on so many occasions, become a party of four.

After much preoccupation with Adam doorways and spiderweb fanlights, Regency and Queen Anne, we found our houses. They were not far apart. Morwenna’s was Regency with a charming wrought iron balcony on the first floor; ours was of a slightly earlier period—small but a model of Georgian elegance.

Our parents came to London and we had a pleasant time shopping for the furniture, the Pencarrons and my parents vying with each other in what they wanted to do for their darling daughters.

It was a very happy and merry time; and both Morwenna and I were examples of newly wedded and decidedly contented wives.

Within a few months we were installed in our respective houses. Grace was naturally a great help and helped us choose colors for carpets and curtains, throwing herself into the project with the utmost enthusiasm; and the days sped by.

During this time the Prince Consort died. A feeling of gloom swept over the nation. Those who had been highly critical of him during his lifetime now saw him as a model of virtue. As for the poor Queen she was prostrate with grief and shut herself away, refusing to appear in public.

We dined often with Morwenna and Justin and they with us. Morwenna sang rather pleasantly and I played the pianoforte—not well, but adequately. Justin had quite a good tenor voice, and Gervaise sang out of tune which caused a certain amount of merriment. We enjoyed what we called our musical evenings, but we soon realized that the men were restive. They preferred to play cards which neither Morwenna nor I had any gift for.

We liked amusing games which did not require too much concentration and very often we would leave the men together. The first time I was amazed and a little disturbed to realize that they played for money.

Gervaise, I remember, was in good spirits when they first did this. He had taken quite a bit from Justin.

I did not like it. “Why?” I said. “He was a guest in our house.”

Gervaise looked at me in astonishment and burst out laughing.

“Of course, darling. We gave him a wonderful evening. He enjoyed it thoroughly.”

“Enjoyed losing money!”

“It was all part of the fun. I have discovered he likes a good gamble.”

“I don’t suppose he likes losing money.”

“Well, naturally we all prefer to win.” He seized me and danced round the bedroom with me. “You are a funny little thing, Angelet.”

“Why?”

He took my chin in his hands and kissed me tenderly. “Such quaint ideas! Most men like a game of chance, you know.”

“Yes,” I said. “I suppose they do.”

But it did occur to me that both Gervaise and Justin liked it better than most.

After that there were often cards. When they came to dinner or we went to them I had the idea that they could not wait to get to the card table.

They played a lot of poker. I watched them sometimes with that light in their eyes and that feverish color in their cheeks. It was more than excitement. It was obsession. It worried me a little. I used to hope that neither of them would win and they would both end just as they started.

I did gather that Justin won very often. Gervaise would shrug his shoulders.

“All have their ups and downs,” he said.

“You seem to have more downs than ups with Justin,” I commented.

“It’s the way of things. It will change. It always does. The exciting thing about luck is that it is unpredictable. That’s why they call it Lady Luck. It’s like women.”

“Do you find me unpredictable?”

He put his arms round me. “Of course not. Didn’t I tell you, you were unique. That’s why I love you.”