The Drop of the Dice (Will You Love Me in September?) by Philippa Carr
Authors: Philippa Carr
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saying: ‘Of course. Of course.’
And I, who was suddenly transported back to that damp cellar with the hostile Grand’mère and Maman, and only Jeanne to protect me from the harsh Paris streets and from life, cried out: ‘Do you understand what they are saying. Jeanne? You are to stay with us. You have come to us and your home is here now.’
Jeanne wept and embraced me again, looking at me with wonder, as though I had done something very clever by growing up.
We brought her to the table where she opened her eyes wide at the sight of so much food. Damaris explained who she was and Great-Grandfather Carleton rose rather ponderously, for as I have said he was getting older and stiff in the limbs, though he wouldn’t admit it, and he told her in very anglicized French that anyone who had served a member of his family well should never regret it, and although Jeanne could understand very little of what he was saying, she was well aware of the warmth of her welcome.
Damaris said she was sure she was hungry. Hot soup was brought for her which she attacked ravenously, and then she was given a slice of beef. She told us how she had wanted to come to England but that it had been impossible during the war. But now there was this Treaty and the fighting had stopped she had at last found a boat to bring her across. It had cost her a great deal but she had saved when she did not have to keep her grandmother and her mother, so she had a little more money. She was ready when the peace was signed—and here she was.
So that was how Jeanne came to England.
SIR LANCELOT
I T IS AMAZING HOW great events which seem so remote from us can play such a big part in deciding the course of our lives. But for the great revolution when Catholic James had been driven from the throne and replaced by Protestant William and Mary, I should never have been born. And then my adventures in France were all part of the same situation. But the peaceful years I had spent at Eversleigh had made me forget such impressive conflicts and it was only when Great-Grandfather Carleton talked so fiercely of Jacobites that I remembered there was a struggle still going on.
Because of the peace, Jeanne was with us and something of even greater importance was to follow—and all because of the peace.
Jeanne had settled happily into our household; she seemed to be in a perpetual state of delight. She said it was like being in the hôtel and serving Lord and Lady Hessenfield again. To be assured of enough to eat was, during those first weeks, like a miracle to Jeanne. She talked volubly and I found I could chat easily with her and my early grounding in her language enabled me to pick it up again with speed. Jeanne had a smattering of English learned from my mother and from me and as she learned quickly we had no difficulty in communicating.
She told me how sad she had been when I had left, although she knew it was the best thing for me, and great good fortune that my Aunt Damaris had found me.
‘We suffered much in the winter when there was little to sell,’ she told me. ‘Then I must go out to wash floors… if I can get the work… and what did it bring? Nothing but a few sous. There were Maman and Grand’mère to keep. In the spring and summer I could manage with the flowers. I liked that. It gave me freedom. But to work for tradesmen… oh ma chérie… you have no idea. Those days in the hôtel working for milord and milady… ah, that was heaven… or near it. But this was different…’
She told me that she must work… work… work all the time, and never a moment to be lost or they would take off sous for wasted time.
‘I worked for the druggist and grocer one winter. I liked the smells though the work was hard. But I did it… and sometimes when there were many customers… I served in the shop. I loved the smell of that shop. Parfum … in the air. I learned too… how to weigh out the cinnamon, the sugar, the ground pepper… arsenic too. That was
And I, who was suddenly transported back to that damp cellar with the hostile Grand’mère and Maman, and only Jeanne to protect me from the harsh Paris streets and from life, cried out: ‘Do you understand what they are saying. Jeanne? You are to stay with us. You have come to us and your home is here now.’
Jeanne wept and embraced me again, looking at me with wonder, as though I had done something very clever by growing up.
We brought her to the table where she opened her eyes wide at the sight of so much food. Damaris explained who she was and Great-Grandfather Carleton rose rather ponderously, for as I have said he was getting older and stiff in the limbs, though he wouldn’t admit it, and he told her in very anglicized French that anyone who had served a member of his family well should never regret it, and although Jeanne could understand very little of what he was saying, she was well aware of the warmth of her welcome.
Damaris said she was sure she was hungry. Hot soup was brought for her which she attacked ravenously, and then she was given a slice of beef. She told us how she had wanted to come to England but that it had been impossible during the war. But now there was this Treaty and the fighting had stopped she had at last found a boat to bring her across. It had cost her a great deal but she had saved when she did not have to keep her grandmother and her mother, so she had a little more money. She was ready when the peace was signed—and here she was.
So that was how Jeanne came to England.
SIR LANCELOT
I T IS AMAZING HOW great events which seem so remote from us can play such a big part in deciding the course of our lives. But for the great revolution when Catholic James had been driven from the throne and replaced by Protestant William and Mary, I should never have been born. And then my adventures in France were all part of the same situation. But the peaceful years I had spent at Eversleigh had made me forget such impressive conflicts and it was only when Great-Grandfather Carleton talked so fiercely of Jacobites that I remembered there was a struggle still going on.
Because of the peace, Jeanne was with us and something of even greater importance was to follow—and all because of the peace.
Jeanne had settled happily into our household; she seemed to be in a perpetual state of delight. She said it was like being in the hôtel and serving Lord and Lady Hessenfield again. To be assured of enough to eat was, during those first weeks, like a miracle to Jeanne. She talked volubly and I found I could chat easily with her and my early grounding in her language enabled me to pick it up again with speed. Jeanne had a smattering of English learned from my mother and from me and as she learned quickly we had no difficulty in communicating.
She told me how sad she had been when I had left, although she knew it was the best thing for me, and great good fortune that my Aunt Damaris had found me.
‘We suffered much in the winter when there was little to sell,’ she told me. ‘Then I must go out to wash floors… if I can get the work… and what did it bring? Nothing but a few sous. There were Maman and Grand’mère to keep. In the spring and summer I could manage with the flowers. I liked that. It gave me freedom. But to work for tradesmen… oh ma chérie… you have no idea. Those days in the hôtel working for milord and milady… ah, that was heaven… or near it. But this was different…’
She told me that she must work… work… work all the time, and never a moment to be lost or they would take off sous for wasted time.
‘I worked for the druggist and grocer one winter. I liked the smells though the work was hard. But I did it… and sometimes when there were many customers… I served in the shop. I loved the smell of that shop. Parfum … in the air. I learned too… how to weigh out the cinnamon, the sugar, the ground pepper… arsenic too. That was
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