Brilliance (16 page)

‘This convent is a refuge for women of all ages in distress.’ Sister Delphine’s tone was compassionate. ‘Now, if you feel well enough, Mother Abbess wishes to see you.’

Lisette nodded and stood up. The younger nun, who said she was Sister Martine, took her along a stone-floored passage to the abbess’s study. After tapping on the door and entering to announce Lisette the nun left again.

The abbess was seated at a large desk. She was a severe-looking woman with sharply observant grey eyes and a firm mouth, her complexion almost as white as her starched coif as if she never saw the sun.

‘Sit down, Lisette. Why are you here?’

Lisette took the chair indicated and spoke brokenly. ‘I was robbed of everything I possess on the train to Nantes. I have only the clothes I am wearing. I reported the crime to a gendarme and when he knew I had nowhere to go he brought me to your door.’

The abbess’s concentrated gaze did not leave Lisette’s face. ‘You’re still a long way from Nantes. What was the purpose of your journey?’ When she had heard Lisette’s explanation she gave a nod. ‘So you would like to stay here overnight before getting in touch with your husband?’

‘I’m not married and I have no family who would help me.’ There was no point in keeping up the myth of a marriage now that she had come here.

The abbess’s expression did not change. ‘You have friends?’

‘Yes, but none I could call upon in my present circumstances.’

‘Then how do you see your immediate future?’

Lisette passed the fingertips of her right hand across her forehead. ‘I don’t know, Mother Abbess,’ she said wearily. ‘I haven’t had time to think.’

The abbess sat back in her chair. ‘I can see you’re still in a state of shock. It would be pointless to discuss matters now. You may stay here tonight in a room we keep for short stay visitors. Tomorrow morning we can talk again and decide what is to be done.’

After a supper of soup and bread Lisette went to the privy where she was on the point of throwing away her false wedding ring, but remembered in time that she would need it when she left this place again. Instead she put it in her pocket and washed away the green mark that it always made on her finger. Then Sister Martine, who was waiting for her, led her through a great domed dormitory where thirty women of all ages were preparing for bed. Some were pregnant, others gaunt-looking and skeletal-limbed and most seemed too tired even to converse with one another, falling into bed and pulling the covers up to their chins. Stares of intense curiosity followed Lisette all the way to a cell-like room at the far end of the dormitory.

‘Bolt your door,’ Sister Martine advised quietly before leaving her with a candle, ‘or your clothes and the jewellery you are wearing might disappear in the night.’

Lisette followed the nun’s advice. Then she unrolled the cotton nightgown that she had been given, which was the same as those she had seen some of the women putting on. It was clean and smelled of carbolic soap as she pulled it over her head. The bedlinen was patched, but just as spotless, and crisply ironed. She supposed laundry work was one of the tasks carried out by the inmates. When she climbed into bed the mattress proved to be as hard as the pillow, but she was thankful for the shelter she had been given.

She blew out the candle and saw the strip of light under the door vanish when the nun on duty extinguished the dormitory lamps. But silence did not follow, for she could hear sobbing, deep sighs and plenty of snoring.

Inevitably she lay awake, contemplating what she should do to struggle out of this terrible and unforeseen crisis. She thought how fortunate it was that she had been wearing the only pieces of jewellery she possessed, including the pearl necklace that her father had given her, or else she would have lost them too. When removing her cape she had found a few francs in its inside pocket and that had been like finding buried treasure in her present financial plight.

Her thoughts moved on to her baby’s birth. She would have to trust herself to the care of the nuns. This did not cause her any anxiety, for in this refuge they would have delivered many babies and would be skilful in their task. Even when she had entered the building earlier this evening the presence of nuns had seemed to offer comfort and security. She had already chosen her baby’s name. If a boy he should be Charles after her father and, if a girl, Marie-Louise, which had been her mother’s name.

In the morning breakfast was eaten at long tables in a chill and raftered room of such height that the log fire in the wide fireplace could not be felt on the far side of it. Lisette helped to clear away afterwards and in the kitchen some of the women were beginning to wash up. She would have taken up a cloth to start drying the crockery, but Sister Martine came looking for her. The abbess was ready to see her again.

‘By your speech and manners you obviously come from a good background, Lisette,’ the abbess began when Lisette had seated herself. ‘By rights you should not be here at all, because I’m certain there must be people somewhere who would step in to save you from your present straits. Have you thought of anybody since we last spoke?’

‘No. The situation is exactly as I told you yesterday evening. There’s nobody. My parents are both dead and my former home is closed to me. No help would be forthcoming from there and indeed I would never ask for it. I have been severed from the past and at the present time I’m as destitute as any other woman given shelter here.’ She paused and then leaned forward in her chair as she spoke again imploringly. ‘Please allow me to stay and give birth here in the convent! I’ve nowhere else to go and, as you can see, my time is very near.’

The abbess frowned. ‘If I grant your request it means that you will have to obey all the rules here. You must also subject yourself completely to my authority as regards to your well-being and whatever is considered best for your illegitimate child. Is that what you want?’

‘Yes, because I feel safe in your hands,’ Lisette replied trustingly.

‘This is not a prosperous convent. We have a few rich patrons, who are generous to us, but the drain on our resources is constant. We feed the hungry – any man, woman or child who begs at our door – and there are heavier demands in that we take in old, infirm and homeless women on a permanent basis. Younger women and girls, who are able to make a fresh start in life, have to move on as soon as possible after giving birth or whatever other cause made them seek shelter here. We give whatever assistance we can to set them on a new path and it will be the same for you.’

‘I shall always be grateful,’ Lisette said, thinking to herself that when she came into her inheritance she would give a large donation to this convent in appreciation of all that was being done for her at this time.

‘Everyone who stays here,’ the abbess continued, ‘unless ill, has to take part in the daily routine of washing dishes, working in the laundry, sweeping and dusting and scrubbing floors or – if physically unable to carry out such chores – there is always mending and darning and other such tasks. I’m told you made a start this morning by clearing tables.’

‘Yes. I’ll continue to do whatever I can.’

‘I see you are wearing jewellery, which is not allowed. The temptation to steal is ever present among those who have nothing. You trinkets will be kept in a convent safe and given back to you the day you leave.’

‘I had intended to pawn my earrings and buy a few clothes for my baby in case those that were stolen are never recovered.’

‘There is no need. We have plenty of very good baby clothes given to us by well-wishers. It is better that you save your jewellery for when you leave here. Selling them would help supplement a charity purse, which is given to every female when she leaves here. So you will not be turned out totally penniless into the world again.’ The abbess shook her head slightly. ‘Unfortunately there are those who go straight to the first wine shop, but I do not believe that of you.’ She folded her elegant, thin-fingered hands on the desk. ‘Have you given thought as to what you will do after your child is born?’

‘I hope to work as a housekeeper again, which was my last employment. My ultimate aim is to return to Lyon where I grew up. That’s where I’ll really start my life over again.’

‘Ah, the City of Silk. So, after all I have said, do you still wish to place yourself completely into the convent’s total care?’

‘Yes, I do,’ Louise confirmed fervently.

‘Have you decided on names for a male or female child?’

‘Yes, I have.’

The abbess nodded and reached to open a drawer in her desk and take out a file. From it she took a printed form, which she placed in front of Lisette. ‘Read this through very carefully before you sign it.’ Then she rang a little bell on her desk and a nun, whom Lisette had not seen before, came from a neighbouring room used as an office. She was to witness Lisette’s signature.

Lisette read the form through carefully. It covered all that had been put to her. She was fully aware that from the moment of signing this form she would be completely under the authority of the abbess, but she had no qualms whatever. Taking up the pen that had been placed ready for her, she dipped it in the inkwell and filled in her age and other minor details as well as the alternative names that she had chosen for her baby. There was also a space for the father’s name if known and she filled in Daniel’s full name. Their child had the right to know his or her full parentage. Then she signed the form.

After the nun from the office had added her signature as witness, the abbess returned the form to the file.

‘Now, Lisette,’ she said, ‘go and find Sister Delphine, who will give you a change of underwear from our charity store and any other basic needs. She will allot you your domestic chores and also tell you which day you may have a bath. We believe in the old adage that cleanliness is next to godliness.’

Lisette left the abbess’s study and was on her way to find Sister Delphine when without warning the floor tipped and she collapsed into a faint again. This time she hit her head on a heavily carved chair. When the dizziness subsided she became aware of an expensive perfume wafting about her. She opened her eyes to find she was still lying on the stone-flagged floor, but kneeling beside her with a supporting arm under her head was a woman wearing a fur-collared coat and a crimson silk toque ornamented by a ruby brooch. Sister Delphine was hovering in the background with a bandage and a blue glass bottle of iodine.

‘Are you feeling better?’ the woman asked, her voice warm and concerned. ‘I’m afraid you’ve cut your head, but it can be easily bound up.’ As Lisette made an attempt to rise the woman gave further support around her waist. ‘Take your time. There’s no need to hurry.’ Slowly and together they rose to their feet and then the woman helped Lisette into the chair that had caused the injury. ‘I’ll leave you now to Sister Delphine’s care.’

With a smile the woman turned away and went in the direction of the abbess’s study. Lisette looked after her as Sister Delphine began dabbing at her head with iodine, making it sting.

‘Who was that?’ she asked.

‘Madame Josephine de Vincent, a widow. She has been very generous towards our funds and takes an interest in the welfare of our inmates. Since losing her husband she has come to stay temporarily with an elderly aunt, who has not been well.’ Sister Delphine finished bandaging Lisette’s head and stood back to admire her handiwork. ‘Now I don’t want you fainting again. You can sit with the old women and mend some bedlinen. Some of them will like having your company too.’

The old women sat in a semicircle around the fire in the linen room and all looked up when Lisette entered. Two of them made concerned little cries and exclamations over her bandaged head, but she assured them it was only a simple cut. Others were less welcoming.

‘We don’t want her here,’ one grumbled to her neighbour, and there were grunts of agreement.

‘That will do,’ Sister Delphine chided mildly as she gave Lisette a couple of pillowcases to patch and an individual sewing-basket that held needles, pins and all else she would need.

Lisette had only just started to work when Josephine de Vincent entered the room. It was obvious from the reaction of the old women that she always came to see them on her visits to the convent and some smiled their toothless smiles while the more disagreeable ones paid no attention.

‘
Bonjour,
mesdames,’ she said, raising her voice since they were all deaf, and she received a little chorus of acknowledgement. Lisette guessed that she was in her early thirties and could appreciate now that she was a good-looking woman with long-lashed dark eyes, fine aristocratic cheekbones, a creamy complexion and a smiling mouth. Her glossy black hair was drawn up in the current fashion and no doubt she had a neat topknot under her silken toque. ‘How are you all today?’

She went to each of the old women in turn, asking about their aches and pains and showing a genuine interest when they had something special to tell her. Finally she came to Lisette and regarded her with concern.

‘Have you quite recovered from your fall?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

‘When is your baby due?’

‘Within the next ten days.’

‘Not much longer to wait. Mother Abbess has been telling me about your misfortune. Let us hope the police recover some of your possessions.’

‘I hope they will, but I’m not counting on it.’

‘I should like to visit you here when your baby is born.’

‘That is very kind.’

Josephine then bade everybody goodbye and left. As Lisette resumed her sewing she was pleased with the prospect of having a visitor. Then, unbidden, came the thought of how much better it would be if it were Daniel coming to see his child. Then she shook away the sudden image of him and concentrated on her sewing.

She worked three days in the sewing room. Most of the old women liked to talk and their conversation was well laced with coarse expressions and swear words that came naturally to them. Often they repeated themselves, telling the same stories over and over again as if they had never told them before. Yet as she heard them talk about the hard lives they had had with the loss of loved ones, the betrayals, the poverty, the hunger, the begging on the street and how they had had to sell themselves, she was filled with pity. It made her realize more than ever what a safe and protected life she had led until the day she had run away. Yet even now she did not regret making that escape.