She knew what she and Finn had done just that one time could have resulted in a baby because Finn had said so and that had been why he had refused to do it again, though when she remembered how he had made her feel inside, she couldn’t wholly regret it. In fact, if Finn had transplanted a seed inside her that would grow into a child, his child, whom she would rear and nurture until he came back from the war, she would leap up and down with delight, but she knew that no one else would see her situation in the same light. Most people would consider it just about the worst sin that a girl could commit. She dreaded telling her father, yet if she was right, there was no way she could get out of telling him.
This was her mood then when her aunt knocked on Gabrielle’s door.
‘Ah,’ Bernadette smiled. ‘Here you are.’
‘Do you want me, Aunt?’
‘No, my dear,’ Bernadette said. ‘But it’s just that the doctor has called to have a look at you, for you are not yourself, are you?’ Bernadette met her niece’s eyes.
Gabrielle knew she wasn’t, and she shook her head. Now it was all out of her hands and there wasn’t a lot she could do about it. So when her aunt said, ‘Shall I ask him to come in?’ she nodded her head and said glumly, ‘You may as well.’
Downstairs, waiting to hear what the doctor had to say, Bernadette ran through in her mind the symptoms that Gabrielle had displayed almost since the day she had brought her to Paris, and came up with all manner of ailments that Gabrielle could be suffering from, except the right one. She castigated herself for not contacting the doctor sooner, but she had thought it was some sickness of mind, some form of depression, due partly to the way that she had been raised, and she’d been convinced that the freedom and gaiety of Paris would soon sort her out. It hadn’t, however, and so she waited anxiously for the doctor’s verdict.
The doctor had been the Dufours’ physician for many years and they had become friends, and so he came down the stairs with a heavy tread. He knew that he was about to deliver a hammer blow to these good people. Bernadette had made it clear over many years the feeling she had for her sister’s children, and especially the elder, Gabrielle, who truly was a very beautiful girl. He wondered how she would feel about her when he delivered his news.
Bernadette came hurrying to him when she saw him descending the stairs, wringing her hands with anxiety. ‘What’s the matter with her, Doctor?’ she asked. ‘I blame myself for not consulting you sooner.’
‘Calm yourself, dear lady,’ the doctor said. ‘My diagnosis would have been the same in any case, and I am afraid that you must prepare yourself for a shock.’ He saw Bernadette’s eyes open wide in concern and confusion as he continued, gently, ‘I am very much afraid that your niece is expecting a baby.’
Bernadette stared at him almost in disbelief. Her mouth opened but no sound came out, and she staggered in shock. The doctor steadied her and he led her into her sitting room to the sofa. Then Raoul poured them each a glass of wine with hands that shook.
Bernadette sipped the wine gratefully as she looked steadily at the doctor. ‘Are you sure of this, André?’
‘I am, Bernadette,’ the doctor said. ‘And I wish from the bottom of my heart that it wasn’t true, but Gabrielle is more than three months pregnant.’
‘But her father is like a gaoler with the girls,’ Raoul said, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘I’m sorry, and I don’t doubt you for a minute, but it seems incredible. The girl goes nowhere and sees no one, and she is sent to bed at eight thirty each night. Remember we have spoken about it before with your wife?’
The doctor nodded. ‘There is someone special in her life, though.’
‘I don’t see how there can be,’ Bernadette said.
‘Ah yes, this much she has told me,’ the doctor told her. ‘Only she wouldn’t say who the man was. You see, all will not be lost if there is some arrangement between them. They can be married speedily and the problem solved.’
Bernadette shook her head. ‘St-Omer, like Paris, has few young men left. They are mostly enlisted in the army, and she has been given no opportunity to meet anyone, though the town has plenty of British soldiers.’
‘She would never have been given the opportunity to meet any of those, though,’ Raoul said.
‘Well, she met someone,’ the doctor said. ‘And it needs only one to put her in the state she’s in.’
‘Then I intend to find out who the man is,’ Bernadette said, ‘and, if possible, take the girl back to St-Omer and see if the man will do the decent thing by her. That little lady,’ she added grimly, ‘has some explaining to do.’
Gabrielle was sitting on her bed waiting for a visitation by her aunt, and when she saw her framed in the doorway, her face so full of sadness and disappointment, she cried, ‘Oh, Aunt Bernadette, I am so sorry.’
Bernadette crossed the room. ‘What possessed you, child?’
‘Auntie, we couldn’t help ourselves.’
‘Tell me, was it one or several men you lay with?’
Gabrielle was truly shocked. ‘One man only, Aunt, and one I love with all my heart and soul. What sort of girl do you take me for?’
‘You know, Gabrielle, a year ago that wouldn’t have been a hard question to answer,’ Bernadette said, disappointment being replaced by anger. ‘But now I don’t know what sort of girl you have turned out to be. A girl who lies down and offers herself like some repulsive harlot is not the sort of person I would wish to be related to.’
Gabrielle recoiled from the harsh words, and yet she tried to defend herself. ‘It wasn’t like that, truly it wasn’t!’ she cried desperately, yet she knew that is how everyone would view it. The love she and Finn had shared in the farmhouse would be tainted and spoiled, and she could almost feel a coldness between her and her aunt that had never been there before.
‘And who is the boy or man who took you down in such a manner? Was he from the town?’
‘No,’ Gabrielle said, and when she saw the look of repugnance sweep over Bernadette’s face, she lifted her head higher. ‘His name is Finn Sullivan and he is an Irishman in the British Army.’
‘A common soldier!’ Bernadette cried. ‘How could you lower yourself like that?’
‘He wasn’t. He isn’t!’ Gabrielle exclaimed. ‘You don’t know him. I don’t care what you say either because I love him and he loves me.’
‘And what would you know about love?’ Bernadette sneered.
‘I know how I feel.’
‘I know how you felt as well,’ Bernadette said. ‘Full of wantonness. How did you meet this common soldier you say you love?’
There was little point in concealment. It would all come out in the end, but when Gabrielle began explaining how she climbed down the tree, even she was aware how sordid it sounded.
Bernadette suddenly remembered the sound of rustling she had heard outside her room the night before she and Raoul had left for Paris, and she said, ‘You even crept out to see him the night before we brought you here, didn’t you?’
Gabrielle nodded. ‘I had to do that,’ she whispered. ‘It was to say goodbye. I don’t know when I will ever see him again.’
Bernadette’s face was full of disgust. ‘You shouldn’t have seen him in the first place, you stupid girl. You behaved little better than a common tramp, Gabrielle. To think I felt sorry for you, cooped up in that house. I see now that your father was right. He must have known that he had a slut for a daughter.’
‘I am no slut,’ Gabrielle cried. ‘We didn’t intend this