CHAPTER 18 - So close, so far
Vadim Kiselev - "Sailing Away", "Far away"
Oscar was lulled by the regular clatter of horses' hooves. It was the end of another day of her work at the school in Chavigny, but that day she was extremely tired. It was already the second week since she had come here for her first lesson, but she still felt a little nervous each morning when she had to stand in front of the entire class. It was completely different to teach a group of familiar children than being officially a teacher at school. Maybe she was nervous because her teaching competence was not too high? Or maybe because the topics that were to appear in her lessons turned out not to be easy for her? It was hard for her to teach without trembling heart that the monarchist system was the greatest mistake, and that the royal couple were two losers who did not care about the happiness of their nation. But that was the current narrative, and she couldn't teach otherwise. Even the convent school was not free from the idea of a revolution.
Oscar sighed heavily. She felt the dull headache intensify with each smack of the hoof against the hard road. She really should have gone to bed earlier the day before. Instead, she put Lusien to sleep first, who had no desire to fall asleep quickly, and then sat for a long time preparing the lessons.
On the days when Oscar did not go to Chavigny, Lusien didn't even leave her a step, perhaps to make up for her earlier absence. How it happened that this little boy became attached to her so quickly, she could not explain. Maybe because she pampered him in all possible ways, allowed him whatever he wanted, and gave him whatever he wanted. Every morning she greeted him with a firm hug, every evening she said goodbye with a kiss. As if she also would like to make it up to herself and him. As if she wanted to make up for all the years she hadn't been with him. Lusien kept calling her "beloved auntie" and she had gotten so used to the name that she even thought of herself as such. As the word "mother" flashed through her mind, it quickly disappeared, chased away by dark remorse.
Oscar rocked hard on her horse. It was only a moment and she was already napping and almost falling off. She was tired and terribly hungry. As a commander, she always made sure to have a flask of water and some food in her bag, just in case. This morning, however, the bag with eatables was left on the porch of the house as she hurried to the stables, a little late. How could she forget something so important? Why was she still so distracted? Good thing Pierre had given her coffee and cake, otherwise she would have starved a long time ago.
As usual, the lessons went smoothly. Her students turned out to be very nice children. Lively and playful, it was true, but also kind. Almost everyone at school welcomed her with undisguised enthusiasm, the children accepted her, and collegues seemed to like her from the very beginning.
She had recently met the needlework teacher, Mademoiselle Jambon. Alice Jambon was a thirty-year-old widow of Meyer Chavigny, quite wealthy, who saw school work as a way to kill boredom. In relation to Oscar, she kept a reserved and distant eye, watching her with a slight suspicion. Perhaps it had something to do with Pierre Arnaud, who was probably unaware of the interest he aroused in his older collegue. Oscar watched with amusement as Alice stealthily followed him with her eyes. Pierre, on the other hand, decided to focus all his attention on the new teacher and he did it without any embarrassment.
- Don't you fell too cold, Mademoiselle Francoise? - he asked in a sweet voice - If you want, I'll close the window. Or I'll bring you a shawl. What do you think?
- Sit here - a fancy chair was pointing to her - This chair is more comfortable and there is more light here. It would be a pity if you would ruin your beautiful eyes.
- You have a very elegant handwriting - he said with a little thought, squinting his intense blue eyes, which made him look a bit like a cat - I have never seen such elegant handwriting before.
Hearing this, Eve chuckled, covering her mouth with a tissue and winking at Oscar.
- Pierre likes you - she said in her ear today, when they were taking a break from class.
- Isn't it rather good? - Oscar asked with genuine surprise.
- Well, of course that is good - Eve laughed softly - Only he seems to like you more than us.
Oscar stared at her.
- I'm sure you are mistaken - she said a little indignantly, sitting back down at the table and picking up the pen in her hand.
- I've known him for a year - Eve said, taking the seat next to her - I've never seen him act like this before. I think you charmed him!
Oscar didn't look up, just stared at the piece of paper in front of her. She felt with shame that she was getting weirdly hot.
- Nonsense - she replied - Pierre is far too young to be interested in me.
There was some truth in what Oscar was saying. Pierre was twenty-seven, so he was much younger than she was. Although Oscar has not explicitly confirmed her age so far, her colleagues seemed to know everything already, which was not particularly strange, regarding the character of the headmaster, the respected, if somewhat a little inquisitive Father Jean-Baptiste.
- Dear Mademoiselle Francoise! - Eve Renan exclaimed with a laugh - If such things were important to anyone, mankind would be extinct by now!
Oscar frowned at her sincerely laughing friend and made no comment. In her old world, among silks, crinolines and tight corsets, among ornate justaucorps and intricately pinned wigs, wealthy older women often had younger lovers. Especially the married ones. Oscar always felt sick at the sight of these young people, jumping like trained dogs next to dressed-up matrons. For these youngsters, the only goal was to enter the society above.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Pierre standing outside, talking to Father Jean, gesturing hard at the same time. No - she thought - this boy is not like that. Anyway, I am no longer a rich woman who could be anyone's patron.
- Mademoiselle Bonnet is sick - Pierre said after a while, standing beside them and scratching his head worriedly - Children will miss their music lessons today. What a pity.. They love her little concerts so much.
- Concerts? - Oscar was surprised.
- Yes - the man replied, smiling radiantly - Mrs. Marianne can play the pianoforte beautifully and children love to hear her play.
- Do you have a pianoforte here? - Oscar was surprised.
- Yes, yes, we have - Eve confirmed - It has a bit worn polish, but it makes a beautiful sound. Marianne always praises it, because she only has a well-worn, old clavichord at home.
Oscar sat thoughtful for a moment, then made a decision.
- I can conduct these lessons - she said firmly.
Eve and Pierre looked at each other in amazement.
- Don't say you can do that too? - the girl asked.
If you knew - Oscar thought bitterly - what things I can do and what I've been doing in my life. Sometimes ignorance is a blessing.
So she played them some of her favorite tunes. Long after the last chord rang out, her colleagues sat without a word, staring at her in awe. Pierre squinted his cat's eyes again, in which Oscar, to her embarrassment, saw more and more clear signs of interest. At one point, the man walked over to the pianoforte, demonstratively fell to his knees in front of her, and grasped her hand with emotion.
- Queen - he said very seriously and sweetly.
Eve burst out laughing and Oscar blushed. It's good that at the same moment they could hear the voices of children walking towards the room, because she wouldn't know how to react to such a great attention. Pierre stood up and winked at her furtively, smiling mischievously.
When, after school was over, he brought her a big piece of plum pie and grain coffee, she was really grateful to him.
- The sound I just heard - he said, setting a plate and cup in front of her - made me realize that Queen Francoise had eaten nothing all day today and must be hungry as a wolf.
- Thank you - she replied, trying not to look at him, fearing that she would either laugh or hit him.
What is he even thinking? - she thought, going home and feeling that fatigue was overwhelming her more and more, like a heavy and soft duvet – "Queen".. What the hell..
There was, however, something endearing about this simple and impudent boy. Maybe the fact that he wasn't afraid to tell her all these things. He reminded her a bit of Andre from their youth. Andre, who was always honest and said what he thought, often criticizing her decisions and having his own opinion on everything. When would Andre actually stop being such a brave and direct man? She couldn't pinpoint that moment in their lives. It must have happened long before she went to his room that night.
..
Oscar stumbled across Ella and Andre right outside Angles. First, she noticed Ella's long black hair blowing in the wind. then her laughing face. The girl was sitting on the bank of the river, on a soft carpet of grass and dry leaves, and a man was lying next to her, resting his head on her lap. Oscar paused and watched for a moment as they joked carelessly, feeding each other the plums that lay in the huge basket next to them. She saw Andre grab the other's hand, then press his face against it with a smug expression.
She was about to turn and drive away when Ella noticed her and began waving her hand vigorously in greeting, then gestured that she should come over to them. Oscar did so, but not without hesitation. It was painful to watch them so in love, so happy.
- It's great that you are here! - Ella got up and hugged her tightly - We were all getting worried.
Oscar saw Andre frown, looking like "Mr Pissed off" again.
- You're late - he said, his voice reproachable - Has something happened?
- Nothing happend - Oscar replied, trying not to be provoked - I wanted to help the headmaster and I conducted two music lessons on behalf on a collegue who fell ill.
- You can play the piano, right? - Ella said carelessly.
- Yes, I can - Oscar confirmed without hesitation. Inwardly, however, she felt a tremor. Suddenly she wondered how much this girl knew about her past.
Oscar didn't notice that Andre looked at Ella in amazement at the same time, but didn't say a word.
- We decided to make a bonfire tomorrow - Ella whispered to her, when they returned home, they walked together from the stables - You will come, won't you?
- Bonfire? - Oscar was surprised. She only thought of bonfires as camping out on missions, and she didn't know why these people would want something like that.
- Well, bonfires are for fun - the girl laughed - Last year Andre organized something like this for kids and they have been asking me for a month if it will be one this year also. This is the time when digging ends, so we throw potatoes into the fire and bake slices of bread stuffed on sticks. We tell stories and fairy tales. Kids love it! This is actually the last chance, because the evenings are already cold. Please tell me you'll come! Your students would be despairing if they did not see their favorite teacher by the bonfire.
Oscar laughed nervously. She wasn't quite sure she wanted this kind of entertainment. However, she did not want to disappoint Lusien and the other children.
- I'll go - she nodded, and Ella clapped her hands contentedly.
…
Oscar could not fall asleep for a long time, despite the fact that she was dead tired. She was lying in bed, rolling from side to side, and sleep was not coming. As she closed her eyelids, the image of Ella and Andre lying by the river flashed before her eyes. The image of their hands clasped together haunted and tormented her.
What a foolishness, Oscar thought as she kicked herself out from under the covers and sat down in the armchair by the window. The thin crescent moon was clearly visible through the window.
What was I even imagining? - she scolded herself. - We haven't seen each other for over four years! Why did it seem to me that my mere presence would revive our bond? We have grown too far apart.
She remembered, in their childhood, she and Andre had let paper boats in the great fountain in the garden of de Jarjayes Palace. Andre's boats were always more carefully assembled, thanks to which they sailed lightly and quickly. Andre always won in paper boat racing. However, he never seemed to be happy about it.
Why can't our boats just go side by side, he was angry.
As Oscar's boat took water, Andre glared at it, raising one eyebrow in a funny way and then he grabbed both boats and stuffed them into his pockets. Perhaps he thought that Oscar would not notice that her boat had almost gone down. But Oscar looked at it all without emotion, sometimes shrugging her shoulders, completely not understanding why he was so angry. After all, they were just paper boats.
Now she thought that these boats symbolized the lives of both of them. Always far apart. Even if their friendship was united and their lives were inextricably intertwined, fate decided to separate them in the end. Now Andre's boat had gone too far for her own to catch up. And Andre was no longer eager to crush in fist what was going bad.
Andre now had a life of his own. He arranged them for himself after she threw him out of hers. She couldn't say a word no more.
She might also try to live anew. To get away from this house. Try to find someone with whom she could connect her life, as suggested by kind Father Jean-Baptiste. She thought of Pierre Arnaud's intense blue eyes, gazing at her adoringly. She remembered his lovely gestures and sweet words. This experience was completely new to her. She had never been sought in this way by anyone. It was clear because no one ever saw her as a woman. For the two most important men in her life, she was just a good friend..
In the dim moonlight, she noticed the silhouette of Andre coming home in the yard. He rode his horse unhurriedly, deep in thought. Oscar looked at the clock on the table beside the bed. It was already approaching three in the morning. Andre was only supposed to drive Ella home because she was lingering and it was getting late, but it looked like he was staying longer. In a moment the outer door creaked open and Oscar heard the soft sound of footsteps. She went to the vestibule and slightly opened the door. Andre was taking his shoes and coat off. She noticed immediately that his clothes and hair were in disarray and his face was flushed. She felt a familiar twinge of pain in her heart. Before she could close the door, she felt the weight of his gaze on her.
- Something happened? - Andre asked, raising his eyebrows. It was hard to guess if he was surprised or angry - Are you spying on me? - he mocked.
- Don't be stupid - Oscar replied, opening the door and leaning against the door frame - I just heard a noise and I came to check if everything was okay. I didn't know you weren't back yet - she lied.
- Really? - he asked sarcastically, standing right in front of her. One more step and their bodies could touch.
Oscar smelled a faint scent of women's perfume and felt sick. She moved step away from him.
- Have you been drinking, Andre?
- No. And you?- he replied arrogantly.
She raised her head and looked him straight in the eye boldly.
- It's not me who come home in the middle of the night.
Andre flashed with amusement in his eyes. He studied her from top to bottom for a moment, then turned his back to her and walked away.
- Good night, Oscar - he said mockingly and waved his hand without turning, then disappeared behind his room door.
