Time for Silence

“That will suit her beautifully. We’ve got to help her, Mama. She seems so happy now that she can stay here. She was very upset about going to that old aunt of hers.”

“Poor girl! What a lot she has gone through. Thank God, Edward is too young to know what happened to his home.”

So the problem of Edward and Andrée had settled itself. The next was Miss Carruthers. My father had taken quite a liking to her. He found her conversation stimulating. On the first evening, she impressed him with her knowledge of government and political matters.

During that first meal, they had a discussion about the merits and drawbacks of a coalition government. Miss Carruthers offered the opinion that, though this could be a somewhat hazardous procedure in peacetime, it might be quite the reverse when we were at war.

“To have all parties working together with one aim—the successful conclusion of the war—would be preferable to having them carping for the sake of carping. To have them thinking of the good of the country rather than scoring political points, as is, alas, their usual practice, could not fail to be beneficial.”

My father agreed with her, and they chatted at ease and with obvious enjoyment.

A few days passed. My mother suggested that Miss Carruthers should stay a little longer, unless she was in a hurry to get to the country. Miss Carruthers accepted the invitation with obvious pleasure.

Annabelinda went back to Hampshire with her parents, declaring that she would be coming back to London soon.

My mother often came to my room immediately after we had retired. Just for a little bedtime chat, she used to say.

During one of these, she said, “I think it is unlikely that you will be going back to La Pinière. It’s no use our deceiving ourselves that all this is going to be over in a week or two. The Germans are flooding into Belgium. They’ll be in France before long. I’ve been talking this over with your father. You are only fifteen years old and your education is not finished.”

“It’s holiday time now.”

“I know, but that will soon be over. We have to think ahead. Your father and I could not bear to let you go away to school again…even in England. What you went through…”

“Oh, it wasn’t so bad for us. We got away in time…thanks to Major Merrivale. It would have been difficult without him.”

“Oh, yes, indeed. We’re going to ask him to dinner…perhaps on the twenty-third, if he can manage it…and your Uncle Gerald with him. But then he may not be able to spare the time. But what I was going to say was that you have to continue your education, war or no war, and your father thought it might be a good idea to ask Miss Carruthers if she would stay and act as governess.”

I looked at my mother and laughed.

“What’s the matter?” she said. “Have I said something funny?”

“No…no. Not at all. It is just that you are like some sort of magician. You’re making it all work out…Andrée, Edward…and now Miss Carruthers.”

“You like her, don’t you? Your father thinks she is a very intelligent woman.”

“Yes, I do like her. I like her quite a lot now I’ve got to know her. She’s different away from school. There she was so stern. When we were coming across France, she seemed to become human.”

“I think she is a nice woman and would be a very good governess.”

“Have you mentioned it to her?”

“Not yet. Your father and I decided we would see how you felt about it first.”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea. She was so hating the thought of going back to that cousin. I can’t help laughing. It’s so wonderful now we are home. We talked one night in the inn at Calais, with the waves dashing against the harbor walls….We talked about ourselves and our fears of what would happen if we ever got away and came home. We talked of our problems, and I could see that Miss Carruthers was just a little frightened about the future….So was Andrée. Now it’s solved. It’s like a fairy-tale ending.”

She was silent for a while and then she said, “We’ve got to keep it so, Lucinda. Will you talk to Miss Carruthers? But perhaps I should.”

“Yes,” I said. “You ask her. Tell her how grateful you will be if she stays.”

“I will do that.”

I looked around my room and said, “It is wonderful to be home.”

The days passed quickly. Miss Carruthers was clearly delighted at the prospect of her new post. She discussed what she called “our curriculum” with me. She would concentrate especially on literature, she thought; through this I should get a good grounding in the classics and would be able to show erudition when conversing with my father’s guests. I agreed. I would have agreed to anything, because I was so happy to see her pleasure. It was the same with Andrée. They were two contented people.

I wrote to Annabelinda. I had to tell her that Miss Carruthers was going to be my governess. I was sure that would amuse her. She, at the mature age of seventeen, would doubtless persuade her mother that no further education was necessary.

Nothing much has changed here, I wrote.