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Chapter Twenty-Six
September 8th 1892: Philippe
I liked breakfast. It was my favourite meal, except on the days when we had strawberry cake for tea. But that didn´t happy too often. So I liked breakfast best most of the time. The main reason for this was that both Maman and Papa were present at the table, unlike the other meals, when Papa usually wasn´t there. I especially enjoyed talking to them about what we´d do at the weekends or the holidays.
Yet today everything was different. Jacqueline, Antoinette and I were already sitting at the table, but my parents weren´t there. "We´ll have to start without them.", Jacqueline decided after we had waited for a very long time, at least five minutes. "It´s already half past seven, and you have to be at Mme.Tadoux´s house in less than an hour´s time." My sister nodded and began to spread butter onto a slice of bread.
Handing her the jar with the honey Jacqueline wanted to know: "And when does your teacher expect you to come to him today, Philippe?". I had never understood why she didn´t simply called Uncle Erik by his name. Once I had asked her, but she had only replied it wouldn´t be ´proper´. One day I´d have to find out what was so improper about his name. It had to be something serious for I wasn´t allowed to use it in front of Papa either, just like the funny words I had learned from our coachman. The only difference was that Maman had forbidden me to use them in front of anyone, whereas I could at least talk about Uncle Erik to her or our maid.
"I´m not sure.", I admitted. "Uncle Erik gave Maman a letter and said that she should read it and think about it before sending me to him again." "He probably wrote that you´re a lousy pupil and he doesn´t want to teach you anymore.", Antoinette interjected, although her mouth was still full of bread. "That´s not true!", I cried. "Jacqueline, make her stop telling lies!" "Of course it´s true!", my sister shouted. "I bet you haven´t even read the letter yourself… because you can´t read at all! You baby!"
I noticed that my eyes were welling up with tears. It was so unfair. I had never begged for having an obnoxious older sister, had I? She didn´t even know Uncle Erik. He was much too nice to write such mean things about me. Besides, I could read. Honestly. I had just opened my mouth to tell her that when Jacqueline called: "Stop it! Both of you! Or would you rather finish your breakfast in your bedrooms? I won´t – ".
Now she was interrupted herself, by angry voices echoing through the corridor. "Oh Christine… don´t act as if I had tried to force you to something! All I wanted was a little kiss…" "Of course – a kiss! And that thing pressing against my thigh was a candle you had taken to bed with you!" Both Antoinette and I looked at Jacqueline, who for some reason had turned bright red in the face. Our argument was forgotten as my sister asked: "Why should Papa have taken a candle to bed with him?". "Well, I… I don´t know. Just ask him yourself!", the maid muttered, now fighting back giggles. Sometimes adults were very hard to understand.
The voices were coming closer to the dining room. Maman was talking again. "I just can´t do this at the moment, Raoul…" "But why not?", Papa called. "We hardly see each other. Can´t I expect you to be a little more affectionate at the rare occasions when I´m home?" "Yes… yes…", Maman said. She sounded as if she was about to give in. "I´m sorry…" "No, I´m sorry. I shouldn´t have pressed you…"
When they entered the room just a few moments later my parents were best friends again. They were even holding hands, which I thought was completely pointless. How could they eat like that? "Good morning!", they said in extremely cheerful voices, sitting down opposite my sister and me. "Have you had an argument?", Antoinette wanted to know immediately. She was the most curious girl I had ever met. They exchanged a brief glance, then shook their heads. "We were just talking.", Maman explained. "No, you were shouting.", I corrected her. There was a huge difference between the two things, and Uncle Erik had taught me to pay attention to the words I used.
"Sometimes people shout without meaning to do so.", Jacqueline hastened to say. "And still they love each other. Antoinette and you were shouting as well just a short while ago, and you don´t hate each other now, do you?" Reluctantly we shook our heads. My sister could be quite mean, but most of the time she was nice. "So let´s not speak about it anymore!", Papa exclaimed. "I just want a quiet breakfast." With these words he reached for the coffeepot and poured a bit of the beverage into two cups.
It was indeed a very quiet breakfast. Not even Antoinette seemed to feel like talking anymore. I chewed on my croissant, but it didn´t taste as good as it usually did. Besides, I still had no idea whether I would go to Uncle Erik today and I couldn´t ask Maman as long as Papa was there as well. So I ate more and more slowly, knowing that he always was in a hurry and would leave soon.
My plan worked. Not even five minutes after he had settled down Papa stood up again. "I have to go.", he said, though that intention was quite obvious. Hastily he emptied his cup. "George expects me to meet him at nice. I don´t know when I´ll be back. Goodbye!" He walked around the table, kissing everyone but Jacqueline… and Maman, who had to lean down and pick up her knife, that had fallen down a moment earlier. Then he left the room.
It might sound strange, but Maman seemed to be far more relaxed now. "We have to hurry as well.", she announced. "I have an appointment with my seamstress, so I´ll take you, Antoinette, to Mme.Tadoux on my way." "Oh!", Jacqueline suddenly made. "I´ve almost forgotten it. Her teacher sent a message this morning. She´s not feeling good. Antoinette can´t go to her until tomorrow." Maman thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. "She can stay here. If she accompanied me, she´d only grow bored."
"But what about me?", I called, feeling left out. Why were they always talking about my sister? "When will you take me to Uncle Erik?" I could have sworn that my question made her blush slightly. "You see, Philippe… Uncle Erik is… well, he´s sick as well.", she replied. "He doesn´t know yet when he´ll be fine again. Till then you´ll have to remain at home." "Was that why he acted that strangely yesterday?", I wanted to know. "First he was all unfriendly to you, and later he hardly dared look at you…" "Yes, that was the reason.", she assured me. "And what was written in that letter?", I went on. "That´s none of your business!", Maman snapped. I shrunk back a little and didn´t say anything.
Taking a sip of coffee she concluded in a perfectly normal voice: "So the children will be with you this morning, Jacqueline. Is that all right with you?". "Of cou- No!", the maid called. "I won´t be here till noon, Madame. I´ll meet my sister. It´s her first day off for months…" The pleading glance she threw Maman reminded me of a stray dog I had once fed in the street. It seemed to have a similar effect for Maman gave a small sigh and said: "All right then. In this case the children will have to be alone for a while." "Oh, they won´t be alone.", Jacqueline muttered. "They can always go to Jacques or the new cook if they need something."
So Antoinette and I stayed behind while the others left the house. I felt a tingle of excitement in my belly. It rarely happened that we were anywhere without an adult to keep us company. "What will we do now?", I asked. I expected my sister to suggest playing in the garden because that was what she liked best. But she seemed to have other plans. "I want to know why Maman is behaving that oddly. Arguing with Papa, hissing at you… it´s not like her.", she stated. "And there´s just one way of finding out: We have to read that letter your teacher wrote!" The tingling grew stronger. Sometimes having an older sister was very exciting.