Vanished

As Marielle walked slowly up the stairs, she debated whether or not to go on, she wasn't really in the mood to endure the nurse, and she didn't want to disturb Teddy with Miss Griffin. But suddenly, she heard him. There was a chortle of laughter far away down an upstairs hall, and as she heard it, she smiled. She had already seen him that morning, and sometimes she tried to ration herself. She had to, or he would become an all-consuming passion. It was a game she constantly played with herself, never al-lowing herself quite enough, never being with him as often as she wanted, because she knew that if she did, she would go mad if anything ever happened. But in truth, the child was already woven into the very fiber of her soul in such a way that she couldn't have torn herself from him. But if she rationed her time with him, she could allow herself to think that she had kept some distance and freedom. Unfortunately, as a result, he spent the rest of the time in the constant care of the indomitable Miss Griffin. Malcolm had insisted she stay with them, and after four years Marielle still disliked her. And Miss Griffin still treated her like a somewhat deficient being. Her migraines, her nerves, her fear of kidnappers, her barely concealed, and obviously unhealthy, passion for the child, alternating with periods of restraint, Miss Griffin felt it was all symptomatic of a truly unworthy person, a view she was not embarrassed to share with any and all who would listen whenever she visited the kitchen. It was Malcolm whom the governess adored, Malcolm she respected, and secretly dreamed of. He was her senior by a mere four years, and had fate been kinder to her, it was Miss Griffin who would have stood in Marielle's shoes, not that pathetic, nervous weakling, as she sometimes called her. She still talked about the Lindbergh child, about how traumatic it had been, and where she'd been when she heard the news. Of course it had been an unpleasant business, but it had happened six years before, and after all, the Lindberghs had had two sons since then.

Marielle stood for a long moment in the hall, listening to the child, smiling to herself, and then, as though pulled by unseen forces, she walked slowly up the marble stairs to the third floor, her elegant suede shoes resounding down the long hallway as she walked toward him. The door of the nursery was closed, and as she reached it, she could hear him giggle. She should have knocked, she knew, Miss Griffin would be shocked by it, but she preferred the element of surprise, and slowly she pressed down the brass handle of the door and it swung slowly open. As it did, a small child turned, with golden curls and huge blue eyes, and his face exploded into smiles when he saw her.

“Mommy!” He flew across the room and into her arms, as her own face melted into a smile and she held him. She picked him up and held him close to her as he nuzzled her neck and breathed deep of her perfume. “You smell so good.” He always noticed things like that, the way she smelled and looked, and she loved it when he thought she looked really pretty. The rest of the women around him were so plain, except Brigitte, Daddy's secretary, who sometimes came to visit him and brought him German storybooks and German candies. She said everything was better in Germany, but Miss Griffin said that wasn't true. Miss Griffin said everything was really better in England.

“How are you today, my handsome prince?” She kissed his cheek and set him down again, as the governess looked at her with disapproval.

“We're very well thank you, Mrs. Patterson. We were about to have tea before you interrupted.” Marielle never thought that he should drink any of it, but Miss Griffin felt it was a sacred ritual, and Malcolm had long since given their afternoon tea parties his official stamp of approval. As usual, Marielle was overruled, she thought milk and cookies would have been healthier, and in truth Teddy preferred them.

“Good afternoon, Nanny.” Marielle smiled uncertainly at her, she was never quite sure of how she would be received, and it made her feel awkward to be around her. But explaining that to Malcolm had been impossible over the years, and sometimes it seemed as though Miss Griffin would stay forever. And at four, it was too soon to say that Teddy didn't need her.

The nurserymaid served tea to the three of them. She was an unpleasant Irish girl Marielle had never liked, but the housekeeper had hired her, and Miss Griffin adored her. She and the driver were also fast friends, and her name was Edith. She had dyed red hair and familiar ways, but she did Teddy's and Miss Griffin's laundry to perfection. And she always kept an interested eye on Marielle's wardrobe.

“And what did you do today?” Marielle asked Teddy conspiratorially over their tea. He looked very serious as he answered.