Every time I think of that darn brother of mine I burn.
Kick Kennedy
September 1935.
They boarded the Normandie. This was the golden age of the ocean liner, and the Normandie, finished entirely in Art Deco style, was extremely popular among wealthy Americans. It was the fastest ship, and in June had broken the transatlantic speed record, averaging nearly 30 knots.
It boasted a huge swimming pool, a theatre, a winter garden, a gym, a chapel and a nightclub. Among its magnificent interiors was a huge, luxurious first-class dining room, illuminated by twelve pillars of Lalique glass, and with thirty-eight matching glass columns; comparisons were drawn with the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles, which earned the liner the nickname ‘The Ship of Light’. The room could seat 700 people, and served the very best French cuisine. ‘The food here is very pimp-laden,’ said Jack in a letter to Lem in reference to the gorgeous French puddings that he was devouring. Joe was constantly criticizing Jack for his spotty complexion, but the boy comforted himself with the knowledge that Kick also had a huge pimple on her chin.
Joe Sr had recently resigned his chairmanship of the SEC in the hope of getting a better position, though he had declined all the posts that Roosevelt offered. What he wanted was to become Secretary of the Treasury. Before setting off for Europe, he had announced to the press that he was ‘through with public life’.1
It was Jack and Kick’s first trip to Europe. He was en route to the London School of Economics, she to the Sacred Heart Convent in St Maux. But, for now, they had a few days of fun to look forward to on the world’s most glamorous ocean liner. Jack twirled Kick around the dance floor of the Grille, and they swam and played deck tennis and promenaded the liner, discussing and planning their year together in Europe, the places they would visit during the holidays.
Kick arrived at the Sacred Heart Convent in St Maux. She loathed it, and was determined that nothing was going to make her stay. Rose later admitted that the school was ‘so strict in its rules and so remote from the general life of the country’ that Kick was ‘forlorn’.2 Kick pleaded with her mother to let her transfer to the Holy Child Convent at Neuilly in Paris. Rose, for once, gave in.
Rose had endured the strict regime of Blumenthal, and she had expected her daughter to do the same at St Maux. Kick felt she had had a lucky escape. The Holy Child Convent in Neuilly was liberal and sophisticated, located in an affluent suburb, just 4 miles from the centre of Paris. In many ways, it was a finishing school for wealthy Roman Catholic girls. Its close proximity to the art galleries, museums, restaurants and shops of Paris meant that Kick could reach beyond the cloisters in a way which had been impossible at Noroton.
At Neuilly, she threw herself into the life of the Convent, studying Latin in the morning and skating at the outdoor ice rink in the afternoon. Her favourite nun was Mother Bernadette, who taught her History and Latin. One of the other nuns took her out to distribute leaflets about Sunday school: ‘We talked French all the time, so it was not a waste of time.’3 Kick found some of her schoolfriends catty. She had her hair cut shorter and was told by one of the girls that she looked less intelligent with her new style. ‘You can have my full share of her,’ she remarked to her parents. Her roommate was English: ‘she seems very nice’. Kick thanked Rose for sending clothes: ‘my red velvet hat arrived and it is very cute’.4
She enjoyed seeing the sights of Paris. She saw the cell where Marie Antoinette was incarcerated, and the Palais de Justice where she was tried. She thought the Sainte-Chapelle ‘the most lovely thing I have ever seen’.5 She loved the Louvre, where she gazed at the Mona Lisa. ‘Am really getting too cultured for words,’ she wrote. The girls made fortnightly visits to the Louvre to study the paintings: ‘I shall be the official Parisienne guide for the Kennedy family.’ She told her mother that she was going to Solemn High Mass at Notre Dame for All Saints Day.6 She loved the circular rose windows at the great cathedral: ‘Think I know every monument and church in Paris by this time.’7
Her friend Hope was on her way to visit, and they planned to ice-skate together. Hope was enrolled at St Maux, and returned after her weekend with Kick. Kick wrote to her mother as if to vindicate her own decision: ‘Mother, Hope looks simply ghastly. She hates the convent like anything and when she had to go there last nite she was crying terrifically. It is a crime to leave her there …’ She added, melodramatically, ‘if she stays there much longer she will honestly kill herself. Every night I thank God I am not there. The head nun is always trying to turn Hope against me because I left and didn’t have the spirit to stay.’8
Kick was obsessed with not gaining weight: ‘Am eating plenty and getting very fat.’9 She worried that she wouldn’t be able to fit into her evening clothes (‘by the way, the red velvet and blue silk are darling’), and she told Rose that the nuns were trying to fatten her up. She did not want to put herself on a diet the minute she returned to America.
Kick told her parents that Joe Jr had written to her but she had been surprised that Jack had gone quiet. ‘Please tell Jack to drop me a line.’ Jack’s time in London had not been successful. He had been hospitalized in October and was gravely ill, though once again he made an unexpected recovery. Then, having told Lem that he planned to spend Christmas in St Moritz, he fell ill again and decided to return home to America. Kick was furious that he was returning. The news about Jack hit her hard. As he was always the one to share her quick wit and sense of fun, she had looked forward to spending time with him and he was now leaving her alone in Europe. Jack sailed back home and was hospitalized for suspected hepatitis. Then, to her horror, she heard that her best friend Hope was ill and returning home. Kick was devastated: ‘I do not know all the details but she will rest for a while and may have to wear a belt on her stomach for two years. All I can say is a fine lot I came over with. First Jack, then Hope. I shall probably contract something sooner or later.’10 She had lost her two lifelines, but it was Jack’s loss that she felt most keenly: ‘every time I think of that darn brother of mine I burn’.11
She masked her deep love for him by mock anger, that he had ruined her plans and let her down, but she was in fact deeply worried about him. Like Jack, she found it hard to express her feelings and disliked sentimental talk, but underneath the tough exterior she was a deeply emotional girl. When Jack finally got out of hospital she was immensely relieved. But she didn’t reveal her anxiety to her younger siblings. When she wrote to Eunice, who was now at Noroton, it was in her usual jocular, teasing voice, addressed to ‘Puny Euny’: ‘You should write your lonely little sister at least once a week. Boy, I could just see you over here. Lots of time I wished you were here. Now isn’t that sweet of me.’12 To Bobby, she wrote a sweet letter, enclosing stamps for his collection. She told him about the electric animals on the Normandie: ‘you pressed a little button and the horse would trot and then another button and then he would gallop’.13
She missed her siblings, telling Bobby that she would watch from her Convent window and see the little French boys and girls (‘about Teddy’s age’) going to school wearing blue smocks and hats and carrying briefcases laden with schoolbooks. She added that they went to school from 8.30 until 4.30: ‘I don’t think you would like to be a French boy, Bob, because they don’t play football, baseball or any games like that.’14
She confided in Bobby and Eunice her difficulty in speaking French.