unuttered , but shaping part in family life.
Poor, dear Ellie.
He had never seen her as poorly as today. He must buy her a present to cheer her. She had been so well when she left Boston with Raf late in September. And her letters to him throughout the winter had been studded with lively vignettes from what seemed an ever-amusing Paris life. True, these had been sparse of late. But he had hardly expected her health to have reached such an impasse. Raf had been seriously remiss. He would take matters in hand now. The visit to the doctor would be only the first step. Yes, only the first step.
As he walked, James had a sense that he had distanced himself from his siblings, as indeed from so much else, for perhaps too long.
FOUR
‘S orry I’m late, Jim. Couldn’t be helped.’ Raf raced into the lobby of the Grand and stopped short in front of him. He looked haggard, his eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep. James’s inclination to reprimand evaporated.
‘I’ve brought you this.’ He waved a black leather satchel in the air. ‘We can leave it at the desk until later. I want your opinion, once you’ve read the contents.’
Without waiting for James to reply, he had a quick word with the clerk.
Moments later their carriage had merged with the traffic on the boulevard. Raf was rubbing his forehead with his hand, like a man trying to efface an indelible image.
‘What have you been up to?’ James asked gently.
‘The morgue. I’ve been to the morgue.’
‘I see.’
‘Do you? I wish I did.’ Raf rubbed his brow again. ‘They haven’t examined the blood for poisons yet.’ His voice grew cold, detached. ‘Her left arm was broken. There was some bruising. Across the thighs. Across the shoulders and chest. Two bands. Both could have occurred either before or aftershe was in the water. There are conflicting opinions on the timing. It could have happened over a week ago. It could be far less.’
The horse had taken on a brisk pace. The sound of iron on cobbles reverberated in the carriage.
‘So it could have been …’ James didn’t quite know how to put the question. ‘She might have done it …’
‘Herself. No.’ Raf’s fingers were clenched into tight bloodless fists. ‘No. Not Olympe. Not now.’
‘Why are you so certain? Ellie says …’
‘Ellie is full of fantasies.’ His voice was harsh. He modulated it. ‘This last while, since she’s been so weak, her imagination has grown even more florid than usual. You saw her then. You told her?’
James nodded.
Raf was staring out the window. There seemed to be little to look at except a row of uniform grey façades.
James waited, then took a deep breath and put the matter that had been troubling him. ‘Her father, no, no, it was Madame de Landois, said that Olympe had once suffered from a condition which I think William James describes as ambulatory automatism. Did you know that about her?’
Raf didn’t respond.
James pressed on. ‘I attended a series of lectures he gave some years back. On exceptional mental states. He talked about physical or mental activity performed without the awareness of the conscious self. It happens that a hidden or secondary self can take over from the person and spontaneously perform various acts – including walking. So it’s possible that if Olympe was prone to such trances that …’
‘No. That kind of automatism is epileptic in origin. Often hereditary. Or it’s brought on by some kind of trauma. A shock to the whole system. That’s what the best of the French neurologists say. I’ve learned something over the years, too.There’s no history of epilepsy in Olympe’s family.’ He paused, his face a battleground of conflicting feelings. ‘And at the time of the incidents Marguerite was referring to, there was … well, let’s call it a shock. Olympe’s mother died. In terrible circumstances. But all that’s in the past. I’m certain of it. Absolutely certain.’
‘How can you be?’
‘She
Poor, dear Ellie.
He had never seen her as poorly as today. He must buy her a present to cheer her. She had been so well when she left Boston with Raf late in September. And her letters to him throughout the winter had been studded with lively vignettes from what seemed an ever-amusing Paris life. True, these had been sparse of late. But he had hardly expected her health to have reached such an impasse. Raf had been seriously remiss. He would take matters in hand now. The visit to the doctor would be only the first step. Yes, only the first step.
As he walked, James had a sense that he had distanced himself from his siblings, as indeed from so much else, for perhaps too long.
FOUR
‘S orry I’m late, Jim. Couldn’t be helped.’ Raf raced into the lobby of the Grand and stopped short in front of him. He looked haggard, his eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep. James’s inclination to reprimand evaporated.
‘I’ve brought you this.’ He waved a black leather satchel in the air. ‘We can leave it at the desk until later. I want your opinion, once you’ve read the contents.’
Without waiting for James to reply, he had a quick word with the clerk.
Moments later their carriage had merged with the traffic on the boulevard. Raf was rubbing his forehead with his hand, like a man trying to efface an indelible image.
‘What have you been up to?’ James asked gently.
‘The morgue. I’ve been to the morgue.’
‘I see.’
‘Do you? I wish I did.’ Raf rubbed his brow again. ‘They haven’t examined the blood for poisons yet.’ His voice grew cold, detached. ‘Her left arm was broken. There was some bruising. Across the thighs. Across the shoulders and chest. Two bands. Both could have occurred either before or aftershe was in the water. There are conflicting opinions on the timing. It could have happened over a week ago. It could be far less.’
The horse had taken on a brisk pace. The sound of iron on cobbles reverberated in the carriage.
‘So it could have been …’ James didn’t quite know how to put the question. ‘She might have done it …’
‘Herself. No.’ Raf’s fingers were clenched into tight bloodless fists. ‘No. Not Olympe. Not now.’
‘Why are you so certain? Ellie says …’
‘Ellie is full of fantasies.’ His voice was harsh. He modulated it. ‘This last while, since she’s been so weak, her imagination has grown even more florid than usual. You saw her then. You told her?’
James nodded.
Raf was staring out the window. There seemed to be little to look at except a row of uniform grey façades.
James waited, then took a deep breath and put the matter that had been troubling him. ‘Her father, no, no, it was Madame de Landois, said that Olympe had once suffered from a condition which I think William James describes as ambulatory automatism. Did you know that about her?’
Raf didn’t respond.
James pressed on. ‘I attended a series of lectures he gave some years back. On exceptional mental states. He talked about physical or mental activity performed without the awareness of the conscious self. It happens that a hidden or secondary self can take over from the person and spontaneously perform various acts – including walking. So it’s possible that if Olympe was prone to such trances that …’
‘No. That kind of automatism is epileptic in origin. Often hereditary. Or it’s brought on by some kind of trauma. A shock to the whole system. That’s what the best of the French neurologists say. I’ve learned something over the years, too.There’s no history of epilepsy in Olympe’s family.’ He paused, his face a battleground of conflicting feelings. ‘And at the time of the incidents Marguerite was referring to, there was … well, let’s call it a shock. Olympe’s mother died. In terrible circumstances. But all that’s in the past. I’m certain of it. Absolutely certain.’
‘How can you be?’
‘She
Similar Books
