City of Darkness and Light (10 page)

“Ooh, I do hope so,” Ellie replied with a wink to me. “Besides I have met this charming married lady who is chaperoning me perfectly.”

The Frenchwoman looked me up and down and noted the quality of my dress. “
Mille pardons,
madame,” she said. “I apologize for my charge. She is headstrong and will come a cropper one day, I think.”

“I suspect Miss Ellie was like me. She needed to breathe some fresh sea air, rather than be stuck in the lounge all day. And as you see, no harm has come of her.”

The Frenchwoman gave me a nod, then took Ellie’s arm. “Come inside now. You will catch a nasty chill in this cold air without your shawl around you.”

Ellie looked back in my direction as she was led away. “I hope to see you again soon,” she said and I realized I hadn’t given her my name. As I went to find the nearest door to the second-class portion of the ship I heard the chaperone say, “You must learn not to talk to strange women, Eleanor. She had a most wild appearance and she was Irish too. What’s more I do not believe I saw her in the first-class dining room.”

I decided that I was heartily glad that Ellie was going to have those few days of freedom in Paris.

Ten

Of course I had to relate my findings to the ladies at the dinner table, but I gave just the bare bones of the story—that Angela in the painting was really called Adelaide and was the girl’s aunt. Also that Ellie had denied her aunt was mentally defective, merely anxious and timid and did not like to leave the house. I refrained from mentioning that Ellie had planned to spend a week alone in Paris or that she hated her stepfather. The women were impressed with my sleuthing and, having found out the truth, turned their gossip to other passengers, especially a couple whom they suspected of not really being husband and wife.

The dressing gowns on the cabin door swung a little more that night and I awoke in the morning to a gloomy gray day with rain peppering the windows. The promenade deck was deserted, apart from a sailor who was swabbing it down, looking very miserable in the process. There was no question of going outside. I sat reading in the lounge. Liam played, crawling over to other passengers and being fussed over everywhere. There was a concert in the afternoon and a whist drive in which I didn’t participate but which was won by our two widows, much to their satisfaction. I could feel myself slipping into a pleasant slow routine in a safe cocoon with the real world and its problems slipping farther and farther away. I had to remind myself from time to time that I had left a husband alone and in danger in New York.

In the middle of the night I was awoken by Liam’s cries. I went over to his crib and found that he had been sick all over his bedding. This was strange as he seemed to be enjoying the ship’s motion until now and had eaten well that evening. I called the night steward and had new bedding brought for Liam, but he vomited again and again. I fed him boiled sugar water from a spoon but he wasn’t able to keep it down. I began to feel frightened. This was more than simple seasickness. I suspected something in the pureed food had upset his delicate digestive system, or, worse still, had poisoned him. Of course all this commotion awoke Miss Pinkerton. I apologized but she was touchingly concerned and asked if there was anything she could do. Really there was nothing, but sleep was impossible with a child screaming and vomiting nearby.

In the morning he fell into exhausted slumber and I sent my own soiled nightclothes to be laundered. When he awoke he was listless as he sucked at the breast, but then promptly vomited again. I had the steward summon the ship’s doctor. He came, examined Liam, and said it could be food poisoning or a particularly virulent stomach grippe that sometimes went around confined quarters like ships at sea. Either way there was nothing to be done except to try to keep some liquids down him, and maybe give him a little tincture of opium to help him sleep. I declined the latter and held him in my arms, offering the breast whenever he awoke. He had never been sick before in his life and it terrified me to see my normally lively child lying there, his skin clammy to the touch and barely responsive. Even his cry had become weak, like a kitten’s.

I consoled myself with the knowledge that we would be landing in France the next day. But then Miss Pinkerton came down to the cabin to report that there was stormy weather ahead and we would not make Le Havre on Friday, as scheduled, but a day late. My spirits fell at such news. A sick son and now a storm ahead. I didn’t leave the cabin but I could tell immediately when we sailed into the storm. The ship creaked and groaned, and there was even the occasional deep resounding thump as she slapped against an extra large wave or fell into the trough behind it. It was hard to keep my balance when I stood up with Liam in my arms. Miss Pinkerton returned to report that half the passengers were now seasick, the crew was working busily to secure anything not bolted down and to swab floors. Not a pleasant atmosphere, she said with her typical understatement.

I suppose it was because I had been up all night and hadn’t eaten properly, and also that the air in the room was stale and tinged with my child’s vomit, but suddenly I too was overcome with seasickness. I heaved. The room spun around. I lay on my bunk, being flung from side to side, wishing I were dead. The steward bought me a basin, a wet washcloth, and some tea. It lay on the table untouched until a particularly violent wave sent it crashing to the floor. Up above I could hear the distant sound of objects falling and breaking. I tried to sit up to nurse Liam but he would hardly take anything. In my current state I might not have been producing milk anyway.

The next twenty-four hours were like a never ending nightmare. Miss Pinkerton observed my current state and took charge, bringing me down bouillon, ice water, and ginger tea and tempting me to drink. She reported the dining room was less that half full at lunch time, and by dinner there were only twelve people apart from herself and Miss Hetherington. The widows and Miss Schmitt had also succumbed. I spent the night alternately worrying that the ship might go down and then wishing it would so that I could be out of my misery. The night seemed to go on forever and having an inside cabin with no porthole meant that I had no idea when dawn was breaking and whether the day showed any promise of improving conditions.

Miss Pinkerton went up to breakfast and came back to report triumphantly that there were only three people in the dining room and that the waiter had turned positively green when she asked if she might have scrambled eggs and bacon to keep her strength up. She also reported that the upright piano in the second-class lounge had broken loose from its moorings during the night and had careened about the room, demolishing everything in its path as well as itself. All that was left was the keyboard, standing up like a skeleton with the pedals sticking out below it.

When I didn’t smile she bent closer to me. “My dear, you must make an effort, for your child’s sake. How can you provide him with the nourishment he needs if you just lie there? Come on now, buck up. Try sitting up and sipping a little broth.”

“I can’t,” I wailed. “The room spins around and I feel as if I’m going to faint.”

“Nonsense. Remember what we said before? Mind over matter, dear. Mind over matter.”

I tried, closing my eyes as the walls lurched around me. I staggered across to the crib and picked up Liam. His eyes fluttered open, then closed again. His cheeks already looked hollow and sunken. I made a supreme effort and spooned a little of that broth into his mouth. He moved his tongue a little as if he liked the taste. I tried a little more, then put him to the breast. He sucked a few times before falling back to sleep. I hoped this was a good sign. God knows I needed some kind of good sign right now.

The ship continued to roll violently all day. We should have been arriving in Le Havre right now, I thought. I thought of Sid and Gus, awaiting my telegram to say that I was on my way to Paris. What if they worried and cabled Daniel, making him worry too? The thought of seeing them, of knowing I was in safe and capable hands, made me feel a little hope for the first time. By nightfall I tried a little bouillon and a small square of dry toast, then fell asleep.

The next morning I awoke to complete silence and darkness. It was so eerie that I experienced a moment’s panic, fearing that I had died and was in a coffin. “I’m alive!” I shouted and tried to stand up, banging my head against the top bunk. That, of course, brought me back to the reality of where I was. I felt my way across the room and turned on the electric light. Miss Pinkerton, still sleeping in the top bunk, groaned and raised her head. “What is going on?” she asked. “Ah, you’re standing. That’s a good sign. But it’s only five o’clock. Too early to get up yet.”

“We’re not rocking anymore,” I said. “And it’s so quiet.”

“That probably means we have docked in Le Havre,” she said. “I will put on my robe and go up on deck, if you like.”

She climbed down nimbly, put on her robe, and left the cabin. Liam slept on, which was rather alarming. I stood over his crib, watching him breathe, and finally couldn’t stand it any longer and gave him a little shake. He woke up instantly, looking around him with frightened, bewildered eyes. When he saw me he held out his arms and started to cry. Then vertigo overcame me again and I had to sit down, gathering what little strength I had before I could pick him up. I had just about managed to bring him over to my bunk when Miss Pinkerton appeared again.

“Good news. We are in port. They are just making fast the lines now. And it is daylight and not raining. In fact it promises to be a fine day. So how are you feeling?”

“Like a limp rag,” I said. “I still can’t stand up without the world spinning around.”

“Of course you can’t,” she said. “You’ve both been very ill. I have been concerned about you. And if you take my advice you will not attempt to travel anywhere today. Take a pension in Le Havre until you are both fit to resume your journey.”

“I’m being met by friends in Paris,” I said. “I’m sure they’ll take good care of me and know what is best.”

“But that child should be seen by a competent doctor as soon as possible. I didn’t like the look of the one on the ship. Never trust a man with big mustaches.”

I had to smile at this, the motion feeling strange and unpracticed after days of worry.

“I’m going to get dressed and then go up to breakfast,” she said. “I’ll have something sent down for you. What do you fancy?”

“I don’t think I could eat anything yet,” I said. “Maybe a cup of tea.”

“The French have no idea how to make proper tea,” she said. “But peppermint or chamomile might be good for you. And a boiled egg. That’s what you need. I’ll go up and order it. None of this nonsense about bread and jam for breakfast. I told them ‘We are Americans. We expect a hearty breakfast not this mamby-pamby nonsense.’”

As soon as she had left I staggered down the hall to the bathroom and attempted to wash. I had to lean against the wall to prevent myself from passing out, and only just made it back to the cabin. I washed and changed Liam and nursed him. He seemed a little more interested but horribly weak, like me. Then I took a clean dress from the closet and was going to change out of my nightclothes when I was overcome with nausea and dizziness again and had to lie down. At that moment there was a tap on the door and the steward entered with a tray containing a pot of tea, a boiled egg, and toast. The tea was weak and slightly scented, made in the French manner, but for now that suited me just fine. I sipped at it, then dipped the toast in the boiled egg. I was going to finish it when I decided to try some for Liam. He sucked away with enthusiasm at this new flavor so I gave the rest of the yolk to him, then ate a few spoonfuls of white myself. This gave me just enough energy to take my clothes from the closet ready for repacking and I was dressed with my hair up when Miss Pinkerton returned.

“Ah, there you are,” she said, giving me a nod of satisfaction. “I’m glad to see you’re up and about again. So the boiled egg did the trick, did it? I knew it would. My friends also came to breakfast today looking like death warmed over. Miss Hetherington had to force Miss Schmitt to eat an egg. ‘It’s for your own good,’ she told her. We can’t have anyone lagging behind on the tour.” She looked at the open closet door. “Ah, I see you have your things ready for repacking. I believe the trunks are in the hall outside. I’ll bring yours in and help you pack. I don’t suppose you’re up to that yet.”

She did and packed with great efficiency while Liam and I watched. Finally the news came that we could clear immigration in the second-class lounge and then were free to go ashore. Porters arrived to whisk away the luggage. I thanked my patient steward and tipped him as generously as I was able. He wished me and
“le petit”
well and Miss Pinkerton helped us up to the lounge and then, after the minimum of formalities, toward the gangplank. The bright sunlight was so strong after days in my windowless cabin that I stood blinking and almost blinded.

“Come along, my dear.” Miss Pinkerton took my arm firmly and led me down the gangway to the dock below. We located the porter with my luggage and followed him through customs before emerging to the street beyond with the station on one side and a line of horse-drawn cabs at the curb. I fought to keep my balance as the ground still rocked under me as if I was at sea.

“I must send a telegram to my friends telling them which train I am taking,” I said to Miss Pinkerton, who was still standing beside me. “They promised to meet me at the station.”

“Very well. Leave the luggage and your child here with me.” She turned to the porter.
“Attendez ici. Elle va à la gare,”
she said in an atrocious French accent.

Off I went into the station. A train was standing at the platform, puffing smoke as if impatient to leave. I saw from the board that it would be departing in fifteen minutes. Everywhere there was commotion as porters flung baggage aboard and doors slammed. I decided that I was in no condition to rush and join that hubbub. I’d take the next train in an hour and a half. That would give me enough time to locate a telegraph office and send a telegram. As I made my way back I began to feel worse and worse. The ground still lurched as if I was at sea. My head started spinning. I could see Miss Pinkerton with Liam in her arms. He was wriggling and crying for me and she was looking as if she didn’t quite know what to do. I staggered toward them as the singing in my head grew louder and louder until suddenly the world went black.