A routine had quickly developed. Stéphie would come into Alexandra’s bed early in the morning and they’d read together. Then they’d get up, see to Milou and let out the hens, light the stove and cook breakfast. Félicité and Henri would appear when they were hungry. As this was at about eight o’clock, Alexandra didn’t think it was necessary to wake them. Stéphie’s reading was coming along nicely and she seemed to appreciate having Alexandra to herself first thing.
Alexandra had also learnt to love the hens and surprised herself when she found she could pick one up while it was sitting and retrieve the eggs.
‘That’s very brave,’ said Stéphie, impressed. ‘I don’t like it when they flutter.’
‘I don’t like birds in the house,’ said Alexandra, ‘but hens are different. And it’s lovely having fresh eggs every morning.’ She now had a basket with a dozen of them in it. ‘Do you want soldiers again?’
‘Yes, please.’ Stéphie took hold of Alexandra’s free hand. ‘Can we make a cake later?’
‘Of course. We’ve got better at making them, haven’t we?’
‘We’re all very good at eating them,’ said Stéphie seriously, and then smiled, pleased to have made a joke.
Alexandra laughed and hugged the little girl to her. ‘Practice makes perfect!’
A few days later, Maxime drove up to visit them.
‘Are you at home for morning calls?’ he said, having kissed Alexandra’s hand.
‘It seems we are,’ said Alexandra. ‘We weren’t doing anything very exciting.’
‘It is quite boring living in the middle of the countryside,’ added Félicité.
‘I do hope your gouvernante doesn’t share your opinion,’ Maxime said to her. ‘I have had a telephone conversation with your papa. Among other things we discussed he told me that he needs this young lady’ – he looked at Alexandra – ‘to stay for another two weeks, so six weeks in all. Will that be possible?’
Alexandra considered. ‘It might be, but I’d need to tell my relations in Switzerland. Could you send them a telegram for me? I’m not entirely sure—’
‘I will send the telegram. You go now and compose it. Félicité? Can you lead me to some rosé? Writing telegrams is very fatiguing. Alexandra will need sustenance when she has done this task.’
Alexandra laughed and ran upstairs to her bedroom where she could think in peace. She didn’t try to make her telegram brief, in order to save money; the estate could presumably afford to pay for as many words as she needed. In the end she was pleased with what she’d written.
So sorry but I have been asked if I would stay on at the chateau for another two weeks as the Comte de Belleville has been further delayed abroad. I feel it is my duty to continue to care for his children who are my responsibility. I will be in touch the moment I know when I can come to you. I am looking forward to seeing you.
It was very long for a telegram and Alexandra wondered if she should have said she was looking forward to seeing them. For one thing, it wasn’t really true, but she wanted to appear as if she was doing her best to honour their wishes. She had reminded them she was working for a count, in a chateau, and that she had responsibilities. All good things, she felt.
While she was spending the Count’s money she added a telegram to David. I’m staying an extra fortnight. Do try and come! She added the telephone number that was on the writing paper. He hadn’t said if he was coming yet and she wanted to give him a nudge.
She found Maxime and the children in the salon with a tray with glasses and a jug of wine.
‘Here’s my telegram to my relations in Switzerland and another to my friend in London who I’m hoping will come over and teach Shakespeare to Félicité and Henri. Their grandmother is worried about their education. I am a bit, too, although Stéphie and I enjoy reading together.’
Maxime nodded. ‘Do you not want to go to school?’ he said to Félicité and Henri.
They both shook their heads firmly but Alexandra felt they did this from habit and that they hadn’t really considered the benefits that being at school could give them.
‘I could drive you to school,’ said Alexandra. ‘If you wanted to go.’
‘I’ll go if Papa says I have to,’ said Félicité with her bottom lip stuck out just a tiny bit.
‘We’ll let him decide then,’ said Alexandra. How long had their father been away from home? Too long, probably.
That night the telephone rang and Henri, who had answered it, said it was for Alexandra.
‘David!’ she said as soon as she realised who it was. ‘How wonderful to hear you! Can you come and stay? I’ve missed you so much. I actually love it here’ – she’d said this for the benefit of the children originally; now she realised it was true – ‘but I miss having someone to talk to and gossip with!’
‘I’d love to come, actually,’ said David. ‘I haven’t got any theatre work coming up and a trip to a few French flea markets and brocantes would spice up the antiques stall. I’ve managed to get some lovely references from important-sounding people.’
‘That’s wonderful!’ said Alexandra.
They chatted for a bit, Alexandra filling David in on everything that had happened to her since he’d dropped her off at the station in the chilly dawn just a couple of weeks previously.
‘Is the chateau big?’ said David. ‘It’s just I was talking about it to an old friend in the pub and he said he’d heard of it and may even have visited. He knew of Saint-Jean-du-Roc.’
‘Well, it’s a chateau! It seems big. I haven’t actually explored everywhere yet. Some of it is fine and some needs a bit of decoration and repair.’
‘It’s just that I know Jack would really like to come with me. He could teach the children music and maths. He’s really a musician but apparently he did maths at university, which makes him actually qualified – unlike me.’
‘Oh, I’m sure we could find space for him. I might have to consult the children’s grandmother, but she’d probably be delighted that he can teach two important subjects.’
‘He’s not … well …’ said David. ‘We’re just friends.’
‘David, you know I wouldn’t mind …’
‘But your employers might object to a gay man teaching your children, especially if they think he’s brought his boyfriend with him.’
Alexandra sighed. She couldn’t help thinking that what David said was true. ‘Well, I can’t wait to see you both. When can I expect you?’
‘I’ll telephone you. We have a couple of things to sort out first, as you’d expect.’
‘And of course, you may not be needed for long. I can’t even promise you’d be paid properly.’
‘Oh, that’s all right, we can stay with you for a couple of weeks and then tour round, or just go home. We’ll see you soon, my darling girl!’
When she’d put the phone down, Alexandra realised that having David at the chateau would make all the difference. Although she hardly felt it, she was just a little bit lonely.
The following afternoon Alexandra was lying on her back enjoying the feeling of the autumn sun on her face. Maxime had come for lunch, bringing an apricot almond cake, a local delicacy, as well as cheese and wine, and chocolate for the children. Now he’d gone home and everyone was relaxing in the garden.
Alexandra was very near sleep. It was strange but she felt more at home in rural France than in the tall London house where she’d grown up. She was determined to enjoy every second of her time here.
A shadow across her face caused her to open her eyes. Standing above her, blocking the light, was a woman, who, from that angle, seemed incredibly tall. Alexandra sat up and then got to her feet, feeling slightly off balance and caught out.
She looked around for the children, who’d been lying in the grass with her, reading, while she’d closed her eyes. Only Milou was with her now and he got up too, not exactly growling, but rumbling.
‘I’ve come to collect my children,’ said the woman with quiet determination.
Alexandra blinked and moved sideways so she wasn’t blinded by the sun. The woman was dressed in an elegant two-piece outfit in a soft caramel colour that was better suited to a smart restaurant than a garden in the French countryside.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Alexandra. ‘I think I must have dozed off for a few minutes and I’m totally confused. What did you say?’ While it was true about her dozing off, she wasn’t at all confused. She just needed time to compose herself.
‘I said, perfectly clearly, that I’ve come to fetch my children. I am Lucinda de Belleville. Can you call them?’ She had a lot of confidence and spoke in a way that showed she was used to having her own way.
Alexandra put on a helpful smile as she realised she was talking to the children’s mother. ‘I could, but I have no idea where they might be. There are several acres of grounds here, or they could be inside. I’m sure you know that the chateau has many rooms. Why don’t we go in and I’ll get you a cold drink? They might appear of their own accord.’
‘I was hoping to just get them into the car and then go to my mother’s house. She doesn’t know I’m here.’ Lucinda made irritated noises as she followed Alexandra through the patch of long grass into the courtyard and, from there, into the kitchen. Alexandra could feel her frustration and crossness burning into her back.
‘I’ll show you through to the salon,’ Alexandra said soothingly. ‘Would you like wine or something soft?’
‘I can find my way to the salon, thank you,’ Lucinda said. ‘This used to be my house!’
‘And as they used to be your children, maybe you would know best where they’re likely to be?’
Lucinda looked murderous. ‘They are still my children!’
She left the room briskly, her stockings making a swishing sound as she walked, presumably heading to the salon. Alexandra realised her last remark had been a little rude, and felt guilty as she found glasses and a carafe for the wine.
‘Félicité, Henri, Stéphanie! You have a visitor – one you’ll be very pleased to see!’ she called up the stairs. She wasn’t entirely sure the children would be pleased to see their mother, but it was a fair assumption and it would make up for her earlier rudeness.
She was gratified to hear footsteps running down the stairs. The three of them appeared, slightly out of breath.
‘It’s your mother,’ said Alexandra. ‘She’s in the salon.’
‘Our mother!’ said Félicité, frowning. ‘What the hell is she doing here?’
A tiny bit of Alexandra felt she should reprimand Félicité for this, but the rest of her thought there was probably a reason for the girl’s reaction.
‘Let’s go and find out. Stéphie? Would you be a dear girl and carry in the water? It makes the tray so heavy.’ Really, Alexandra felt that Stéphie would like a job. Having something to do could be helpful in a possibly worrying situation.
‘Well, I’ve found the children!’ said Alexandra as they all came back into the salon. ‘Now, what would you like? Rosé? Water? A mixture?’
Lucinda took no notice. She was staring at her children as if she’d never seen them before.
‘You’ve grown so much,’ she said with a crack in her voice. ‘I hardly recognise you.’
‘Papa has sent you lots of photographs,’ said Félicité, an edge of sarcasm in her voice. ‘That should have helped.’
There was a lot of resentment there, thought Alexandra, wondering how old Félicité had been when her mother left.
‘It doesn’t matter now,’ said Lucinda. ‘I want you to come and live with me, now I’m back.’ She smiled and Alexandra saw that she was actually very beautiful as she opened her arms.
But no one moved. Alexandra had gleaned that Félicité had been young when Lucinda left, so Stéphie must have been a tiny baby. This was not going to be easy.
‘Come on, my darlings. Do neither of you want to give your mother a hug?’
‘Papa won’t want us to live with you,’ said Henri. ‘We’ve got Alexandra to look after us.’
‘I’m sure Alexandra is doing her best, but what you need is a mother’s love, not that of a paid employee.’
‘Why didn’t you think of that before?’ said Félicité, her resentment evident.
‘Darling, when you’re older you’ll understand these things. I’ll explain it all to you then.
‘I’m fifteen,’ said Félicité, ‘in case you’ve forgotten. Explain it to me now!’
‘What a very rude person you’ve become!’ said Lucinda crossly. She looked at Alexandra. ‘It’s typical of my husband to employ someone who is far too young and inexperienced for the task. Are you a Norland nanny?’
A picture of brown-uniformed women taking enormous prams full of children to Kensington Gardens floated into Alexandra’s head. ‘I think Félicité is too old for that sort of nanny,’ she said.
‘Now, maybe, but in the beginning, when she could still be moulded, that’s when she should have had a properly qualified nanny.’ Lucinda sighed. She clearly had strong opinions on the subject. ‘Now it’s too late. She has terrible manners.’
Alexandra felt that if she cared so much about how her children were brought up, she shouldn’t have abandoned them.
‘I haven’t got terrible manners,’ said Stéphie, possibly resenting her feeling of guilt by association.
Lucinda turned her attention to the little girl. ‘Who are you?’
Alexandra felt sick. What sort of a woman would ask a question like that?
Stéphanie looked at Félicité, Henri and Alexandra in turn.
‘She’s our sister!’ said Félicité, angry now.
‘No, she’s not!’ said Lucinda indignantly. ‘Not unless your father had an affaire I didn’t find out about!’
Alexandra cleared her throat. ‘Excuse me, but I don’t think this conversation is suitable for children. Henri? Will you take Stéphie and see if you can find some biscuits? She knows where they are.’
‘Madame,’ she went on once Henri and Stéphie had left. ‘I can’t believe you’ve forgotten how many children you have!’
‘Of course I haven’t! And that little one isn’t mine!’
Alexandra looked at Félicité for an explanation.
‘Stéphie’s parents died when she was tiny. Her father was Papa’s best friend. Papa brought her to live with us,’ Félicité explained.
Alexandra got up and poured wine into glasses and handed one to Lucinda. She and Stéphie had this sad beginning in common, but, unlike Stéphie, no one had taken her into their family, like Antoine had. He must be a very kind man, she thought.
She carried the tray of glasses over to Félicité without really thinking. But it was up to Félicité if she took one or not. Alexandra took a glass and had a sip. She had no idea how to handle this situation; she just had to play it by ear and hope it turned out all right.
‘I see,’ said Lucinda, who’d also drunk some of her wine. ‘Well, I don’t want her, sweet as she is. I just want my own children.’
‘Stéphie is like a sister to us. We are a team,’ said Félicité.
The other members of the team came back into the room at this moment, the smallest of them holding a plate of biscuits.
Lucinda took a biscuit, looked at it, and obviously wished she had a plate to put it on. Seeing this, Alexandra wondered if she should get one, but then her protective instincts overruled etiquette. She needed to stay by her charges.
Milou, an opportunist, went over and sat by Lucinda, his big head about six inches above her knee. Lucinda took a tiny bite and then gave the rest to the dog. ‘Really, you should teach the dog not to beg,’ she said to no one in particular.
No one replied to this statement. Lucinda cleared her throat. ‘I do understand, children, that you haven’t seen me for a while. But I’m back from Argentina now and would like you to come and live with me. It’s my turn to have you.’ She smiled, obviously hoping that, as children, they would understand the concept of turns.
‘Well we don’t want to,’ said Félicité. ‘We’re happy living with Papa.’
‘But you’re not living with Papa! You’re living with – Alexandra. Do you really want to live with someone who’s paid to take care of you, instead of your loving mother?’
‘Yes,’ said Félicité bluntly and, Alexandra felt, flatteringly.
Alexandra cleared her throat to get Lucinda’s attention. ‘Actually, I couldn’t possibly let the children leave this house without specific instructions from M. le Comte telling me that is what he wishes.’ Alexandra delivered a smile she hoped would end the discussion, although she knew it wouldn’t.
‘I am just as much the children’s parent as he is,’ said Lucinda reasonably. ‘My instructions should carry the same weight.’
‘I was employed by M. le Comte.’ Alexandra was also being reasonable. ‘It was to him I gave my promise to look after his children. All his children.’
‘That doesn’t matter. I am here now. They are my children and I want to take them. They need to be properly educated. Possibly in an English boarding school. You can stay here with the little one.’ Lucinda’s smile was much more convincing than Alexandra’s had been.
‘No!’ said Alexandra and Félicité at the same moment, equally horrified at the thought of them being sent to England. ‘I can’t let the children be separated,’ Alexandra went on vehemently. ‘And I can’t let them leave the house with you either.’
‘This is ridiculous!’ said Lucinda, getting up and walking to the window and then turning back into the room. ‘I’m going to take them to my mother’s house. You’ve met her! She wrote and told me! You can have no problem with that.’
Alexandra bit her lip. ‘The thing is,’ she said apologetically. ‘I have no proof that you are who you say you are, and I can’t guarantee that you will take them to their grandmother’s house. And I don’t know if they want to go.’
‘We don’t,’ said Félicité quickly.
‘You can’t speak for your brother,’ said Lucinda.
‘Yes, I can,’ Félicité said. ‘Can’t I, Henri?’
Henri nodded. ‘And we’re not going anywhere without Stéphie.’
Lucinda gave an exasperated sigh. ‘This is ridiculous! You’d have thought your father would have asked me before he took on another child!’
‘Why?’ said Stéphie.
‘Because – because – well, he should have done!’ Lucinda’s frustration boiled over. ‘I’m leaving. But I’ll be back. With my mother!’ She made this sound like the ultimate threat.
‘That would be delightful,’ said Alexandra. ‘I think she has a bit of broken china she wants me to mend for her. She could bring it with her.’
‘So you’re good at mending china, are you?’ said Lucinda.
‘She’s very good,’ said Stéphie.
Lucinda stalked across to the mantelpiece and picked up a figurine of a shepherdess. ‘Then mend that!’ She threw it on the floor where it smashed into hundreds of pieces. The children gasped in shock, and even Milou growled at this act of destruction. Lucinda left the room with a toss of her elegant head.
Alexandra collapsed on to the sofa. ‘Oh my goodness! She’s hard work!’ She didn’t want to criticise the children’s mother in front of them but couldn’t keep completely silent.
‘Will you be able to mend the ornament?’ asked Félicité.
Alexandra shook her head. ‘I’m sorry but it’s in far too many pieces. Was it precious?’
Félicité shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I think Grand-mère gave it to Papa one Christmas.’
Stéphie giggled.
Henri picked up the carafe and poured some wine into Alexandra’s glass ‘Here you are,’ he said, holding it out to his carer and protector. ‘It might cheer you up.’
Alexandra laughed. ‘Thank you, Henri! I’m sure that as your nanny I should refuse it, but that was a bit stressful, wasn’t it?’
Félicité was looking pale and anxious. Henri sat down next to her and Stéphie, most anxious of all, hugged her big sister’s arm.
‘I think we should ring Maxime,’ said Alexandra, having taken a sip of rosé. ‘He’ll know what to do.’
‘Why do we have to do anything?’ said Henri. ‘We don’t want to go with her. What else is there?’
‘The thing is …’ Alexandra began.
‘She might be able to make us go with her,’ said Félicité. ‘I don’t know. She is our mother.’
‘It would be much better if your father could tell us what to do,’ said Alexandra.
‘I wish he’d come home!’ Stéphie wailed. ‘We need him to look after us!’
‘We’ve got Alexandra,’ said Henri.
‘And Milou,’ said Alexandra. ‘Do you know? When your mother found me in the garden, he was with me and he growled! What about that!’
‘He never growls unless there’s another dog,’ said Stéphie, impressed.
‘I know!’ Alexandra felt her small lie was justified. He hadn’t growled properly, just grumbled a bit.
‘I want Alexandra and Papa!’ said Stéphie, her voice beginning to break.
‘Well, let’s ring Maxime and see if he can get your father to come home.’ She didn’t say that when their father arrived, she would probably have to leave. Stéphie might want them both, Alexandra and her papa, but she didn’t really need them.
‘Papa is always very difficult to get in touch with; his work takes him all over the place,’ said Félicité.
‘Maxime will sort it out,’ said Alexandra, sounding more confident than she felt.
