Carol Birch - Orphans of the Carnival

‘Let me get straight to the point,’ said Theo. ‘I know you must be sick of people taking a mercenary interest in your daughter, but I want to reassure you that my proposition is wholly different from any other you may have received.’

‘No,’ said the old man. ‘The answer is no.’

That’s what you think.

It took less than an hour and came down to money in the end. The old man wasn’t as bad as all that, just a businessman to the core who knew a good deal when he saw it. He’d just never had a good enough offer for her before. Prim-faced, worn-out, tragic-eyed, he sat there, talking about how dear his daughter was to him, what a good education he’d given her, how dignified, charming and refined she was. He couldn’t possibly consider anything but the very best for her.

‘Of course.’ Theo accepted a second glass of fine port wine. ‘And that is why, in spite of the fact that I intend to ameliorate your inevitable anguish at the loss of a daughter with a very considerable financial settlement, I come not as a businessman but as a suitor.’

It was the marriage proposal that clinched it, even though initially the old man objected to the age difference. Thirty years, but Theo knew he didn’t look his age and managed to trim a few years off without being specific. He spoke movingly of his first marriage and sad bereavement. The success of that union, he stressed, a bond so strong, so misunderstood by some of lesser sensitivity, must speak for him. He of all people could truly understand a woman like Marie. He of all people could give her wealth, security, respectability, marriage, children. He didn’t mention the mummies.

‘You are talking about public display,’ her father said.

‘Not at all. I am talking of artistry. She has a fine voice, I’m told.’

‘Who told you that?’

No one had, but it was a good stab.

‘Oh, it’s well known. I don’t remember where I heard it.’

‘She sings,’ her father said, as if stating the obvious. ‘And of course she plays the piano. I gave her a good musical education.’

‘Excellent.’

‘Singing and playing the piano at home for the family is one thing,’ said her father, ‘I’m sure she has no inclination for anything more.’

‘One step at a time,’ said Theo. ‘First the young lady must be consulted. Her happiness in the matter is the only thing that counts.’

The old man sat sucking his teeth thoughtfully for a while, but Theo could see he’d got him. ‘Come tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Let me talk to her.’ He smiled faintly but none of the tragedy lifted from his eyes, which strayed to the window, the garden. ‘She’s a very strong-willed girl,’ he said, ‘she won’t do anything she doesn’t want to.’

‘Oh, absolutely!’

Out in the sun, Theo strolled along by the garden wall, looking up. ‘Rapunzel, Rapunzel,’ he said. A man cleaning the windows of a house a little down the road had stopped for a break and was sitting in the shade of a side alley eating a hunk of bread. Theo couldn’t resist it.

‘Borrow your ladder for a minute,’ he said, taking it from where it leaned up against the house.

‘Hoy!’ the man cried as he bore it away, but Theo had already propped it against the high wall and was up there peering over into the garden. There she was. Nothing like Julia, that was his first thought. Thinner, paler, more nose, less mouth. Fine beard and moustache though, and her jet black eyebrows were gloriously bushy. She was lying on her stomach on a blanket on the lawn, twenty feet or so away, reading a book. A white dress. Trees and bushes billowed round the edges of the lawn, and he got an impression of small children by the back of the house.

‘Marie!’ he called. She looked up and met his eyes at once, seeming unsurprised. Perhaps strange men looked over her wall every day. ‘Marie,’ he said, ‘I’m Theo.’

She stared back at him, unperturbed. More mannish than Julia.

He smiled.

‘Hoy,’ said the man, standing at the foot of the ladder.

Marie looked back to her book as if he was of no interest to her whatsoever.

‘See you tomorrow, Rapunzel,’ he said, kissing his fingers to her, and climbed down.

‘Quite finished, have you?’ said the man.

She was in the garden when he called next day. A small table and two chairs had been placed in the shade of a lime tree, and she was sitting demurely in a pale blue dress with lace at the neck and elbows. Her book lay open face-down in front of her. Her father, who was giving nothing away, introduced them formally then left them alone, but Theo knew they were being watched. Two small girls looked out of a high window in the back of the house, and he sensed other eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. ‘Well,’ she said, not smiling, though her eyes seemed amused, ‘you’re the desperate suitor.’ Her voice was edged with sarcasm.

He laughed. ‘I am.’

Close to, she was impressive, eyes piercing and intelligent, lips full and soft. Her nose spread wider than her mouth, wider than its own length, so flat it seemed to be melting, sinking back into her face.

‘Let’s be frank,’ she said. ‘I never saw you in my life till your head appeared above my garden wall yesterday. You never saw me. And yet you want to marry me. This is pure business.’

‘I wouldn’t put it like that but…’

‘I would. Certainly from my point of view. Just because I’m like your first wife in one respect doesn’t mean we could make a good marriage.’

‘Of course not.’

‘And you’re old enough to be my father.’

‘Just about,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry about that. Not a thing I can do about it.’

‘What would be expected of me? You want me to sing? Suppose I can’t?’

‘You can.’

‘Where would we live?’

‘Vienna. Saint Petersburg. Anywhere we fancy. Money’s not a problem.’

‘You’re talking about a nomad’s life,’ she said matter of factly.

‘To some extent.’

‘I won’t do that forever,’ she said. ‘For a while perhaps, but not forever.’

‘Of course. Thank you for your honesty,’ he said. ‘Let me try to explain something.’

She raised one of those magnificent eyebrows and quirked one side of her mouth.

‘I have hunches,’ he said.

‘Hunches?’

It wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but on the spur of the moment he was inspired to meet honesty with honesty. She’d like that.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘it was a hunch. Don’t misunderstand. I’m nothing if not rational, but experience has taught me to respect certain apparently inexplicable reactions to circumstance. I don’t believe in precognition, obviously. But the mind responds to things picked up by the senses…’

‘Yes yes,’ she said. ‘You have hunches.’

‘Only very rarely.’ He shrugged, a considered gesture intended to be endearingly awkward. ‘If they were not rare, they’d be meaningless. And as soon as I heard your name, I knew.’

‘So you want to get married on a hunch?’

‘Yes. I am convinced this is the right thing to do.’

She drew in a long breath, put her head on one side and just looked at him. When he began to speak, she put her hand up. ‘Ssh,’ she said, ‘I’m thinking.’

It was a little unnerving. She didn’t take her eyes off him and hardly blinked for several long minutes.

‘The others just wanted to show me,’ she said finally. ‘Why do you have to bring marriage into it?’

‘To protect my assets.’ Suddenly the businessman, leaning forward. Then he smiled. ‘So you don’t go running off with the first smooth-talker who offers a better deal.’

‘I could do that anyway,’ she said. ‘Marriage wouldn’t stop me.’