Anne Bennett - The Child Left Behind

Downstairs, waiting to hear what the doctor had to say, Bernadette ran through in her mind the symptoms that Gabrielle had displayed almost since the day she had brought her to Paris, and came up with all manner of ailments that Gabrielle could be suffering from, except the right one. She castigated herself for not contacting the doctor sooner, but she had thought it was some sickness of mind, some form of depression, due partly to the way that she had been raised, and she’d been convinced that the freedom and gaiety of Paris would soon sort her out. It hadn’t, however, and so she waited anxiously for the doctor’s verdict.

The doctor had been the Dufours’ physician for many years and they had become friends, and so he came down the stairs with a heavy tread. He knew that he was about to deliver a hammer blow to these good people. Bernadette had made it clear over many years the feeling she had for her sister’s children, and especially the elder, Gabrielle, who truly was a very beautiful girl. He wondered how she would feel about her when he delivered his news.

Bernadette came hurrying to him when she saw him descending the stairs, wringing her hands with anxiety. ‘What’s the matter with her, Doctor?’ she asked. ‘I blame myself for not consulting you sooner.’

‘Calm yourself, dear lady,’ the doctor said. ‘My diagnosis would have been the same in any case, and I am afraid that you must prepare yourself for a shock.’ He saw Bernadette’s eyes open wide in concern and confusion as he continued, gently, ‘I am very much afraid that your niece is expecting a baby.’

Bernadette stared at him almost in disbelief. Her mouth opened but no sound came out, and she staggered in shock. The doctor steadied her and he led her into her sitting room to the sofa. Then Raoul poured them each a glass of wine with hands that shook.

Bernadette sipped the wine gratefully as she looked steadily at the doctor. ‘Are you sure of this, André?’

‘I am, Bernadette,’ the doctor said. ‘And I wish from the bottom of my heart that it wasn’t true, but Gabrielle is more than three months pregnant.’

‘But her father is like a gaoler with the girls,’ Raoul said, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘I’m sorry, and I don’t doubt you for a minute, but it seems incredible. The girl goes nowhere and sees no one, and she is sent to bed at eight thirty each night. Remember we have spoken about it before with your wife?’

The doctor nodded. ‘There is someone special in her life, though.’

‘I don’t see how there can be,’ Bernadette said.

‘Ah yes, this much she has told me,’ the doctor told her. ‘Only she wouldn’t say who the man was. You see, all will not be lost if there is some arrangement between them. They can be married speedily and the problem solved.’

Bernadette shook her head. ‘St-Omer, like Paris, has few young men left. They are mostly enlisted in the army, and she has been given no opportunity to meet anyone, though the town has plenty of British soldiers.’

‘She would never have been given the opportunity to meet any of those, though,’ Raoul said.

‘Well, she met someone,’ the doctor said. ‘And it needs only one to put her in the state she’s in.’

‘Then I intend to find out who the man is,’ Bernadette said, ‘and, if possible, take the girl back to St-Omer and see if the man will do the decent thing by her. That little lady,’ she added grimly, ‘has some explaining to do.’

Gabrielle was sitting on her bed waiting for a visitation by her aunt, and when she saw her framed in the doorway, her face so full of sadness and disappointment, she cried, ‘Oh, Aunt Bernadette, I am so sorry.’

Bernadette crossed the room. ‘What possessed you, child?’

‘Auntie, we couldn’t help ourselves.’

‘Tell me, was it one or several men you lay with?’

Gabrielle was truly shocked. ‘One man only, Aunt, and one I love with all my heart and soul. What sort of girl do you take me for?’

‘You know, Gabrielle, a year ago that wouldn’t have been a hard question to answer,’ Bernadette said, disappointment being replaced by anger. ‘But now I don’t know what sort of girl you have turned out to be. A girl who lies down and offers herself like some repulsive harlot is not the sort of person I would wish to be related to.’

Gabrielle recoiled from the harsh words, and yet she tried to defend herself. ‘It wasn’t like that, truly it wasn’t!’ she cried desperately, yet she knew that is how everyone would view it. The love she and Finn had shared in the farmhouse would be tainted and spoiled, and she could almost feel a coldness between her and her aunt that had never been there before.

‘And who is the boy or man who took you down in such a manner? Was he from the town?’

‘No,’ Gabrielle said, and when she saw the look of repugnance sweep over Bernadette’s face, she lifted her head higher. ‘His name is Finn Sullivan and he is an Irishman in the British Army.’

‘A common soldier!’ Bernadette cried. ‘How could you lower yourself like that?’

‘He wasn’t. He isn’t!’ Gabrielle exclaimed. ‘You don’t know him. I don’t care what you say either because I love him and he loves me.’

‘And what would you know about love?’ Bernadette sneered.

‘I know how I feel.’

‘I know how you felt as well,’ Bernadette said. ‘Full of wantonness. How did you meet this common soldier you say you love?’

There was little point in concealment. It would all come out in the end, but when Gabrielle began explaining how she climbed down the tree, even she was aware how sordid it sounded.

Bernadette suddenly remembered the sound of rustling she had heard outside her room the night before she and Raoul had left for Paris, and she said, ‘You even crept out to see him the night before we brought you here, didn’t you?’

Gabrielle nodded. ‘I had to do that,’ she whispered. ‘It was to say goodbye. I don’t know when I will ever see him again.’

Bernadette’s face was full of disgust. ‘You shouldn’t have seen him in the first place, you stupid girl. You behaved little better than a common tramp, Gabrielle. To think I felt sorry for you, cooped up in that house. I see now that your father was right. He must have known that he had a slut for a daughter.’

‘I am no slut,’ Gabrielle cried. ‘We didn’t intend this to happen and it happened the once only when we forgot ourselves. Finn is a fine man and will marry me willingly, I know, and he is a Roman Catholic.’

‘Then that is the only good thing about all this,’ Bernadette said. ‘At least it is not some heathen you will be married to.’

‘And we should be grateful to him and men like him because he is fighting for France,’ Gabrielle said, lifting her chin in the air. ‘I’m proud of what he is doing.’

‘You can take that haughty look off your face before I take it off for you,’ Bernadette said sharply. ‘You have nothing to be so high and mighty about, and the idea that he and his kind are fighting for France is nonsense. They are fighting for themselves. But that is neither here nor there. He has got you in the family way and he must be made to marry you.’

‘We wanted to marry,’ Gabrielle said. ‘I said I would wait for him, but he might not be at St-Omer now.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because they were awaiting orders for moving out when I came to Paris.’

‘Well, if they are gone someone will know where. He will have to be found and made to do his duty,’ Bernadette said. ‘We must make plans to return as soon as possible. Raoul will go to find out when the next train is and we must send a telegram to your parents so that they will expect us.’

A shudder went right through Gabrielle’s body and she said to her aunt, ‘I’m afraid of facing Papa.’