The Silk Merchant's Daughter (17 page)

She couldn’t bear to think about what he’d said about not being in a relationship with Sylvie. How could she possibly believe that now?

‘My dear, you will get through this,’ Lisa said. ‘I promise you will. You know I can’t stay but I’ll keep checking on you. Bang on the door if it gets bad again.’

Then, after a few minutes more, she left.

Gradually Nicole fought the symptoms of her phobia. At the first sign of it – usually when she woke up and remembered she couldn’t get out – she told herself nothing terrible would happen. When that didn’t work, she forced herself to ride out the attack, concentrating on her breathing, even when she felt as if she might pass out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Shaky, incomplete breaths but breathing nevertheless. Breathe in. Breathe out.

As the anxiety started to diminish, her breaths grew longer – if not normal, at least more whole. She walked about the room: clockwise, anti-clockwise, right across the middle
and back. She touched all her things as if to re-acquaint herself after a long absence, and then gazed through the window where she could see the world was unchanged. The trees blew in the wind and the garden was still occupied by the ghosts of the dead. In the house below, sounds of life continued, and she missed her little silk shop terribly.

Even though she sent pleading notes to her father begging for his or Sylvie’s presence, the only person she saw was Lisa who, charged with bathroom duties as well as bringing food, continued to be unhappy seeing her in this state. By the fourth day Nicole was surprised to find she’d learnt how to face the fear a little better, and that had lessened the hold it had on her. She was still reluctant to wash or even dress, but Lisa held her hand and helped her. When she was clean, Lisa plaited her hair. With shaking hands, Nicole passed up the rubber bands to hold the plaits in place. The simple activity didn’t stop the fear from rising but she felt better equipped to handle the early signs: the sweating, the trembling, the feeling of being winded.

No note came back, nor any word from her father. Faced with his implacable silence, Nicole paced the room. There had to be a way out. There had to be. Trần would be back in three days’ time and she wouldn’t be there to meet him. She owed him her presence at least, but she just wasn’t ready to leave everything behind; despite what they had done to her, she could not go. She hoped Trần hadn’t meant it when he’d said she wouldn’t be safe at the shop. It was the only good thing left. She longed to be there now, soothed by the neat rows of brightly coloured silk and enjoying the smell of silk and camphor. She would convince him she’d never say a word about the tunnels, but if that failed, there was always the export side of the business in Huế. Maybe she could go there.

With an ache in her bones she couldn’t bear to think that it might have been Mark who had informed Sylvie about Trần’s
last visit. And Sylvie had told Giraud. But if Mark had been central to this lock-up, was it really out of concern for her safety or because he was a CIA officer and would do anything to arrest the spread of communism? He’d hinted that he wanted to know details of the Vietminh’s plans, just as Trần had wanted her to find out about French intentions. Unable to clear her head of the mistrust, she hated what was happening. Why couldn’t things go on as they had before? Yet even as she asked herself this question, she knew the answer: the wealth of the French had been made off the backs of the Vietnamese – Trần had taught her that if nothing else. No doubt there were good Frenchmen too, men who didn’t abuse their power, men who believed in their purpose, but she would never forget what her father had done in the cell beneath the hotel.

One day when Lisa came in she decided to ask her again about what had happened the day she was born. For Nicole, everything seemed to come back to that. And although Lisa had refused to discuss it before, this time the cook sat down on the bed and said she’d tell her the truth.

‘Your mother had a difficult labour with Sylvie and an even more difficult one with you. It went on too long, but that was because it was happening too early.’

‘Why? What happened?’

Lisa closed her eyes. ‘Your mother was meant to have been away for the weekend, but she returned early and saw something she should not have seen.’

Nicole frowned, not understanding.

‘Are you sure you want to know?’

‘Of course.’

‘Your mother went up to the room she shared with your father and found him in bed,’ Lisa paused, ‘with somebody else.’

‘Oh my God. Who? Who was he with?’

‘One of the maids.’

Nicole shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you.’

Lisa blinked rapidly. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘So what happened?’

‘Your father bundled the maid out of the house and, after a while, we heard crying from your mother’s bedroom, and then screams. I told your father the baby was coming, but he wouldn’t believe me and forbade me to go to her. They hadn’t been getting on for some time. She was often ill and he thought her a hypochondriac. He judged her terribly but she was genuinely fragile.’

‘Didn’t he love my mother?’

‘He adored her at the beginning, but then I think the consequences of a mixed marriage hit home. Well, he kept repeating that she was just trying to seek attention, yet again. And then it all went quiet and, as the baby wasn’t due, I thought maybe he was right.’

‘But it wasn’t?’

‘In the end it seemed unnaturally quiet. I disobeyed him and when I went to see for myself …’ She paused and stared at Nicole. ‘Are you sure you want to hear?’

Nicole nodded.

‘
Chérie
, there was blood everywhere. I called the doctor, and I delivered the baby – you, of course. But it was too late for your mother. She had lost too much blood. The doctor arrived and hurried into the room with your father, but by then she was already dead.’

Nicole felt a huge lump form in her throat.

‘He was utterly destroyed by guilt.’

Nicole screwed up her eyes and balled a fist into her other palm. ‘So he should have been.’

‘It changed him. It changed all of us.’

There was a pause but Nicole needed to hear more. ‘What
did the doctor say? Could he have saved her if he’d been called at the start?’

‘Maybe. He said he’d have taken her straight to hospital, but couldn’t guarantee she’d have survived.’

‘It wasn’t my fault, was it?’

‘Not at all. You were an innocent baby. If anyone was to blame …’

‘It was my father.’

Nicole felt a great whooshing sound in her ears as if she was drowning all over again. If only she had known this before.

‘I tried to encourage him to hold you, but he wouldn’t even look at you. You were so tiny I feared for your life too. But I think you reminded him of his own guilt too much.’

Nicole couldn’t think clearly.

‘The house was in complete confusion. Your father vanished for days on end, sometimes taking Sylvie with him. Someone had to see that life went on, so I kept you down in the kitchen with me until you were a few months older. I had a sweetheart myself, but he wouldn’t wait.’

‘You must have resented me.’

Lisa looked at her. ‘You, my love, never. You were so sweet. So funny. I thought of you as mine.’

Nicole blinked away tears. ‘But the maid must have known my mother was pregnant.’

Lisa nodded. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘You have nothing to be sorry for. But Sylvie has always believed our mother died because of me. She has never let me forget it.’

‘Sylvie saw how your father behaved towards you. He wouldn’t touch you, and even as you grew older he showed little interest.’

‘That’s what I always felt.’

‘Obviously he eventually had to acknowledge you, but the
harm had been done. Sylvie was convinced your mother’s death was your fault and that your father hated you for it. She simply copied him.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’

Lisa shook her head. ‘It wasn’t my place.’

Nicole’s head was spinning and she felt such a burst of rage she thumped her fist against the wall.

‘I feel sorry for Sylvie,’ Lisa added. ‘She was only very young when she lost her mother. It hit her hard and affected her whole life.’

That prompted a further outburst from Nicole. ‘Sorry for
her
! You know, even as a child she made me feel unwanted.’

‘I do know.’

‘She was always the queen bee. She’d invite me to join her and her friends on an outing and at the last minute, when I was ready and feeling excited, she’d say she had changed her mind. I always felt excluded.’

‘Why did you never try to tell your father?’

Nicole shook her head. ‘What would have been the point? He would never have taken my side. Never have even believed me.’

‘Well, it’s really your father you should be angry with, isn’t it?’ Lisa put a hand on her arm. ‘Let me ask you one thing. Would you rather be you or Sylvie?’

Nicole stared at the cook. ‘What kind of a question is that?’

‘Haven’t you ever stopped to think? Don’t you realize what a deeply troubled woman she is?’

But Nicole would not be pacified. ‘I don’t care. I only know how unhappy she made me.’

‘Sometimes I wonder how you’d both have turned out if your mother had lived.’

Nicole had loved her sister, but now she made up her mind: behind Sylvie’s angelic looks lay nothing she could ever want
to see again. Sick of bearing the blame for her mother’s death, and sick of feeling ashamed of being who she was, the pain she’d tried to repress all her life felt as if it might overwhelm her.

‘Did my father ever love me?’ she asked. Words she’d never before been able to say out loud.

‘He tried to. I believe that.’

‘Tried.’

‘I’m sure that eventually he did love you in his way. When he married he had no way of knowing how things would go between them. He had a position to maintain and his marriage didn’t help matters. Of course, your presence was a constant reminder. And now men like Giraud are no friend to your father.’

Until now her family had mattered most to Nicole, or at least finding a way to feel part of it had mattered most. But now the French life and the identity she could never have was gone, and in a way it freed her. She’d always hoped that better things were round the corner; hoped that one day her father and sister would love her as much as she loved them. Now she let go of that hope. Her French world was slipping away, and to know that gave her power. She had lived among them but was not one of them and didn’t have to remain trapped in their world any longer. Apart from Lisa, there was nothing left for her here. She had thought she couldn’t bear to leave but now, whatever might lie ahead, it would be a relief to go. She would do it for her mother, if nothing else, and she silenced the little voice in her head telling her that Sylvie had only been a young child too.

When Nicole woke her cheeks were wet. All she could remember from her dream was a golden pagoda surrounded by bright blue butterflies, and the smell of incense in the air. But then she remembered hearing Trần’s voice. With one day left before she was due to meet him, she needed a lucky break.

The image of a maid in bed with her father while her mother was pregnant had tormented her for two days and when Lisa came up with her breakfast tray, Nicole told her she had been terribly sick into her chamber pot all night. In fact, as soon as she felt Lisa would have the boiler stoked up, she’d stuck two fingers down her throat, and then soaked a facecloth in the hot water from her handbasin. Angry and determined, she’d kept on rewarming it and plastering it to her head for half an hour.

Faced with the overpowering smell in the room, Lisa felt her forehead. ‘You do seem a bit hot. Why not try to eat something nice now?’

‘I couldn’t. I need air, Lisa. I’m sure I’d feel better.’

The cook stood with her hands on her hips and frowned. ‘I promised your father.’

‘Please let me come down to the kitchen. Keep the door locked, just open the pantry window. It’s so small, nobody could get out through there. Anyway, I feel much too ill to go anywhere, even if I could.’

While Lisa thought about it, Nicole stared at the floor, willing the cook to give in. She got up and glanced in the mirror. Excellent. Her eyes glittered and her skin looked mottled.

‘Oh, Lisa,’ she said, and held out a hand to steady herself against the wall. ‘I feel so dizzy.’

The cook seemed to decide. ‘Well, I’ve had enough of this shameful state of affairs. You’re right. You do need air and maybe something to eat. Here, let me get a wrap for you.’

While Lisa’s back was turned, Nicole quickly slid open the drawer of her bedside table and rooted around for her shop keys. Though they had taken her house keys, they hadn’t taken those, and at the shop there was another set of house keys. Even if she was caught and brought back, as long as she was able to conceal the house keys, she’d still be able to get out again. She located the keys, and pocketed them along with a nail file.

‘Here we are,’ Lisa said and handed Nicole a shawl, once belonging to her mother.

Nicole took it. Nobody knew she had found it hidden away in an old trunk of her mother’s belongings in one of the stable rooms at the back of the house in Huế. It seemed like a good omen. Her mother would be with her. She took it from Lisa and didn’t allow any emotion to show.

‘What if someone sees?’ Nicole whispered as they paused at the top of the stairs.

‘There’s only you and me here.’

Nicole looked around. ‘But the policeman. Isn’t he on guard?’

Lisa grinned and gave her a little push. ‘Don’t worry about him. He’s a lazy sod. Half the time he nips off home.’

Nicole pulled a face. ‘Giraud won’t be happy.’

‘Our Mr Giraud has got bigger fish to fry at the moment.’

‘What fish?’

‘Let’s just say there are some ugly rumours circulating about him.’

In the kitchen Nicole faltered at the sight of the familiar red floor and the walls lined with white brick-shaped tiles, and wished she didn’t have to trick the woman who’d been such a good and loyal friend. Nicole glanced at the row of copper pots hanging from the bar attached to the ceiling, but avoided looking at the arch leading through to the glass doors of the conservatory. She had missed this so much.

‘I’m sorry to have to lock you in,’ Lisa was saying. ‘But I’m hoping to tempt you with a lovely
soupe au vin blanc
I’ve got on the go.’

‘I feel too sick to eat.’

‘You make yourself comfortable near the window and I’ll brew you up a nice tisane instead. Any particular flavour?’

‘I couldn’t drink a thing.’

‘Well, I’ll keep you company, shall I?’ Lisa settled her ample body on the chair next to Nicole’s. ‘Things have been pretty strange around here this last week, I can tell you.’

Nicole pretended disinterest but knew Lisa loved a gossip. She also knew one of the conservatory windows had a faulty catch.

‘Mighty strange.’ Lisa gave her a mischievous smile. ‘You’ll never guess what I overheard yesterday.’

Nicole shook her head. ‘I don’t suppose I will.’

‘Two of those army types were here and I heard them talking in the hall about Giraud. He’s been found in a compromising situation.’

‘How?’

‘He’s been siphoning American money to fund the movement and maintenance of North African prostitutes for the French army.’

Nicole thought about it and wondered if the black woman she’d seen her father with was one of them.

‘I heard them say the women are from Constantine, the Ouled-Naïl tribe. Beautiful, I’m told.’

Nicole didn’t speak.

‘The army reckon to be heading north using civilian pilots and planes too. American ones. And between you and me, I heard they were expecting to send fifty thousand troops. What do you make of that!’

A shaft of light fell across the cook’s face, showing up the wrinkles round her eyes and the skin beginning to loosen at the base of her cheeks. When had she become so much older? It felt wrong to cause Lisa more sorrow and Nicole felt ashamed. Startled by the strength of her own feeling, she paused. Perhaps, after all, she should not go? Lisa deserved better than this, but when Nicole thought of what her father had done – what choice did she have?

She shook her head. ‘Lisa, I feel terrible. Maybe I will have that tisane. Anything fresh from the garden would do.’

‘Sorry,
chérie
. Here’s me chattering on and you at death’s door. Wait while I get my scissors and nip out the back. I know just the thing.’ She looked a bit embarrassed. ‘You know I’ll have to lock the door.’

While Lisa was gathering herbs, Nicole tiptoed into the conservatory after her, making sure the cook was on the other side of the garden before identifying the window with the faulty catch. She heard a sound and, ready to panic, glanced round with a guilty start, but it was just someone in the next-door garden. She turned back to the window, knowing exactly how to loosen it with her nail file. She did so quickly, then crouched down to undo the bolt at the bottom. She eased it open, giving thanks for French windows. Then, as the panic was replaced by a burst of energy, she slipped out and made for the wall at the back of the garden. Recalling how many times Lisa had shielded her, she halted for a moment. Deeply sorry for the trouble it would cause Lisa, she felt distraught to think they might never see each other again. Then she thought of
Mark. Despite everything, she did not dare consider how she’d feel if she were never to see him again. But as for her father – after what Lisa had told her, how could she allow herself to care? She shinned up the wall and scrambled over the top, the feeling of relief spilling over as she escaped.