Read The Honeyed Peace Online

Authors: Martha Gellhorn

The Honeyed Peace (3 page)

 

No one answered the doorbell though the concierge had said that Madame Vilray was home. Anne Marsh turned the unshined brass door-knob, for no reason, and found it opened and thought, Evangeline is too careless. She would have to remind Evangeline that, since one no longer had servants, one was supposed to lock one's own door. She walked into the bedroom and Evangeline was there, sitting on a straight chair, before the small ineffectual electric heater. Her face looked like the face of the blind, being empty of expression, and with a terrible lineless death on it. She sat erect and did not hear the door open and did not move. Her skin was white and stretched, and though her eyes were open, obviously she saw nothing.

'Evangeline,' Anne said softly. She was trying to remember any doctors she had known, or she could call the Embassy and they would send someone.

Evangeline turned and looked at Anne and did not speak.

'Evangeline! You are ill. Come on, I'll get you to bed. Darling, listen to me.'

'They have moved him,' Evangeline said, speaking very slowly. 'He is not in his prison any more. I went to take his dinner, as I always do, and they said, "Madame, he is gone. We will notify you." So they have taken him somewhere and killed him.'

Anne was so relieved that she felt herself gasping out a shrill laugh of nerves. She checked this and said, 'It means nothing of the sort. Do listen to me.'

'Then why would they not say where he has gone?'

'It's sure to be a rule. There's always a rule. Listen, Evangeline.'

Evangeline's face was again turned blindly towards the wall.

'You see, I've heard about this,' Anne went on. 'There's a period when they're questioned in Paris, and then they get moved to one of the prisons on the outskirts, and they wait there for trial. It's always the same. It's a very good thing, believe me, because it means he'll have his trial sooner and that way he'll be home sooner. It's nothing to be frantic about, Evangeline, really it isn't, you must believe me.'

Anne had been talking so fast that her breath was gone, and her mouth felt dry, and still Evangeline stayed inside her silence. The silence in the room now was like a lack of air, and Anne moved to the window and opened it and the cold dark September evening flowed into the cold dark room. Then Anne, shivering, saw what she had done, and closed the window. I'm going to cry, she thought; I can't shake her out of this, I must get a doctor.

Anne went to the telephone and when Evangeline heard the number being dialled, she said, 'What are you doing?'

'I'm going to call a doctor for you.'

'Stop it.'

Anne put down the telephone and Evangeline said, 'I need nothing, I need only to know where Renaud is.'

'Darling, he's all right. I swear to you. This is routine. I'll try to find out where he is, but it can't do any good your being in this state. Let's have a drink, let's do something. We'll go out to dinner.'

'I will wait here. Someone will notify me.'

'
Notify!
' Anne said and was shocked to hear her voice almost hysterical against Evangeline's slow and heavy words. 'For God's sake stop acting as if this was Germany and they sent you a box of ashes. This is France, Evangeline, and the war is over and there are trials and laws and a parliament and embassies and people are not notified.'

'Yes,' said Evangeline. There was a beginning of life in her voice.

'You've forgotten. You're all mixed up. You've been alone here, thinking, and you've made it all crazy. But it isn't like that. Renaud will have a trial. There's no question of people being shot on the road between prisons. That's stopped, don't you see?'

'Yes,' Evangeline said again, from a great distance.

'Oh, darling!' Anne knelt by the straight chair and took Evangeline's beautiful hands, with the long fingers and the long pink nails, and tried to warm them in her own. 'Please go to bed. I'll bring you dinner. Have you a
boule
?'

Evangeline moved as in a dream, obeying this insistent voice which was kind, if too near, too loud. Anne found a hot-water bag and no hot water and went into the kitchen to boil a kettle. She looked for food and found a loaf of bread and a can of sardines and bouillon cubes and thought: It will be enough because she can't eat, but I must try to make her swallow something hot. When she came back Evangeline was in bed, lying flat on the pillow, with the somnambulant look on her face.

'As you are American and of the Red Cross,' Evangeline said carefully, 'they would tell you.'

'Yes, darling.' Anne put the hot-water bag inside the bed. 'Are you warmer?'

'I am all right.'

'I'll bring you something to eat.'

'No, please. I must know where Renaud is.'

Where was Liz? where was Lucien? Why weren't they here to help? She could not handle this alone, for she had never seen this kind of fear.

There was another silence, while Anne stood awkwardly beside the bed. Her hands seemed very large to her and very far out of her sleeves. Then Evangeline, without moving her fixed sleep-walker's eyes, said, 'Please find Renaud, Anne.'

'Yes, darling.' I'm babbling, Anne thought.

Anne dialled the American Embassy number. Tommy Grainger, who was First Secretary now, would know something or at least be sane and practical. While she waited, she wondered if any man ever felt for any woman as Evangeline did for Renaud: did any man ever die of fear for a woman?

Tommy Grainger was not at the Embassy and not at the Claridge, where he lived, and as Anne made the telephone calls, she could feel Evangeline in the bed turning to stone. The silence again became airless and choking. At last, helplessly, Anne telephoned the Ritz Bar and asked for Georges, and heard that collected airy voice and was told, in the way of Georges' repeated miracles, that Monsieur Grainger was here, one little moment, Mademoiselle. Then Tommy came, with behind him the small screeching of the bar, and he said, 'Hello, beauty, I thought you were in Berlin.'

'I am usually; this is my leave. Tommy, I want to ask you something.'

'Ask.'

'You know Renaud Vilray, don't you?'

'No. I know who he is, of course.'

'His wife is a great friend of mine. Renaud has been moved from his prison, you know that one in the Ministère. And they won't tell Evangeline where he's gone. Can you find out?'

'No, Anne, I can't. When was he moved?'

'This evening.'

'They'll telephone his lawyer in the morning and say where he is, and then the lawyer can see him and probably take his wife to visit. He might be at Fresnes or Drancy or anywhere. They only keep people in town for questioning.'

'That's what I told Evangeline.'

'Well, that's how it is. Tell her to have a drink and forget it; she'll hear from the lawyer in the morning. How did you ever get mixed up in this rat race?'

Anne, fearing that his voice would carry to the bed, said quickly, 'I'm here with Evangeline. She's a very old friend of mine.'

'Terrible nuisance, isn't it?' Tommy Grainger said. 'One's old friends. I wouldn't go to Germany on a bet, I'm so afraid I'd run into all my old Nazi pals, in case they've avoided being shot. They won't shoot Vilray though, it's too late in the game, and he's only a second-class collaborator anyhow.'

'Thank you, Tommy,' Anne said nervously. 'Go back to your drink.'

'How about meeting me tomorrow?'

'Yes, I'll call you. Thank you, darling. Good night.'

She turned to Evangeline. 'Tommy says exactly what I do; it is routine; Renaud's lawyer will be informed in the morning, and you'll go and see him with the lawyer. There's absolutely nothing to get excited about. Tommy Grainger is our expert on all these things,' Anne said, lying earnestly. 'He is the very top authority.'

'What did he say?'

'I've told you, darling. Renaud may be at Drancy or Fresnes; in the morning his lawyer will be informed. Have you heard me?'

'Yes,' Evangeline said. Unaccountably, her voice sounded sleepy.

Her face was better now; it had stopped dying and looked only haggard and sick.

'I'm going to make you something to eat,' Anne said.

In the kitchen, she wondered again where Liz could be, or Lucien, or how she could warn her French Captain that she would be late or not coming at all. She burned her hands on the toast and realized she was sweating with nerves and a sort of oppressive hurry.

But Evangeline had, by some secret and mysterious process of healing, gone further in her cure: she was sitting up in bed and rouging her lips, and erasing, with lipstick, part of the sickness from her face.

'You are a sweet little cabbage,' she said to Anne graciously, 'and very competent, and I admire you. You are so clever with telephones and always know exactly what to do. I have behaved tiresomely and you must forgive me.'

'Eat your delicious handmade supper and shut up,' said Anne. Everything was going to be fine. For Evangeline had found her strange singing absurd voice again, which meant that she would return to her permanent role of being Evangeline, amusing and inconsequential and worldly, and safe as thistledown is safe.

'Such bouillon,' Evangeline said. 'Divine. What a lovely little wife you will make for a great strong American; you will wear a pinafore covered with rosebuds and cook him bouillon.'

'I will cook him doughnuts,' Anne said, 'to keep him in his place.'

'What have you been doing in Paris, Anne? Tell me all your excitements.'

'Nothing. That's what I came to do.'

'Oh,' said Evangeline, drawing out the word, 'I just remembered. The most superb little event which happened to me this morning. I went to Auclair's to buy a négligée, though really one should not waste millions of francs these days when things are so expensive and everything is of course very unsettled. But still, I thought one négligée is not ruin, and then I will be pretty for Renaud when he returns from his prison. So I went in, thinking of something else anyhow, and saw the vendeuses, drawn up behind the counter like a female firing squad and all scowling ferociously through their mascara. The head vendeuse came out to me, with such, a martial look, like someone who is about to say "Fire", and smoke pouring from her nostrils and quivering with patriotism and fury and many other pleasurable emotions. So I said amiably, "I think that rose toile de soie would be pretty," pointing to something which was suspended on the counter, and she said, "Madame, we do not serve the enemies of France." I looked around quickly to see what enemies were in the room but as there were none, it was clearly me she meant, so I said, still pleasant but with the most beautiful hauteur, "You will kindly put the rose toile de soie away, and when the judges have apologized to my husband, I shall come for it and you may apologize to me." Wasn't it brilliant, darling? I did wish there was someone to hear, and I never made a speech before, and to make such a good one on the first try, really
wasn't
it clever? And then I sailed out, as dignified as I do not know what, and when I got out of sight I stopped and did my laughing but of course not where the firing squad could see me.'

Anne had turned away, and was now apparently searching for an ashtray. She fumbled on the table, knocking against one of the low large lamps. She saw everything blurred, due to sudden tears, and she forgot that she must laugh. Then she realized that Evangeline was waiting, and she could not laugh, so she said, 'You will have to buy the négligée quite soon, won't you?'

'Yes,' Evangeline said, 'perhaps now I have made such a lovely speech, I could go back for it before the trial, to give them time to fit it.'

'That's a sound idea.'

'But you did not tell me what you are doing. I interrupted you.'

'Nothing, darling. Resting.'

'With dozens of handsome and spirited young men to help you?'

'Handsome and spirited young men are no rest. I see them by the hundreds every day. A rest would be dozens of nice old ladies, knitting a nice old quilt.'

'I never understand. What is it you do, wearing that delightful blue costume?'

'I hand out coffee and doughnuts and smiles to handsome spirited young men.'

'No! Have you been doing that all through the war?'

'Yes.'

'But what a lovely way to spend one's time!'

'Oh yes,' Anne said quietly, 'it's all been great fun.'

She saw that Evangeline had finished with her tray, though the sardines lay untouched in their oil and the bread had only been crumbled.

'Could you sleep now, darling?'

'Yes,' Evangeline said. 'You are sweet to me. Yes, I will. Because I must be up very early and make myself pretty to go visiting with the lawyer.'

'That's right. I'll leave the tray in the kitchen. Do you want anything else?'

'No, thank you. I must take many pullovers to Renaud tomorrow because it's getting quite cold, isn't it? Good night, darling.'

 

The French Captain was sitting on a banquette at the Relai Saint Germain, looking anxious and angry, but when Anne came in the door his face cleared and his pleasure in seeing her distressed Anne, for she felt it was dishonourable to eat up his money when she cared so little about him. She smiled readily when that seemed called for, or nodded serious agreement and heard nothing. She was thinking of Evangeline.

She was not angered now that Evangeline had no time or understanding for the life of the world; Evangeline was occupied to the point of madness. Surely there were few people with the strength and daring for such passion. It also did not matter that loving Renaud this way was against nature, because he so little deserved it; Renaud was an accident or a joke of God's. But Evangeline, whom Anne had seen for the first time, was no accident, because, accidentally, one did not, no one did, no one could, support such love for eighteen uneasy years. There was nothing to feed the love, except Evangeline's own heart and will. It was not surprising that she had nothing left, and that she hid behind her gay and stony mask of nonsense. For Evangeline could not waste herself on anything; she had this one tireless service to perform.

I must see that she gets money, Anne thought, so she can buy fifty négligées, and I must go there early in the morning to drive her and the lawyer to visit Renaud. I will also have to take on Renaud, and see what I can do. If Tommy is right, and he is only in the second class of collaborators, it ought to be possible to hurry up his trial. We will have to save him for Evangeline, since she has earned him.

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