throat and a bout of severe barking coughs was found necessary to dislodge them. Felix watched in pitying amusement as his mother energetically thumped the major’s back while he hawked and retched—purple-faced—onto the gravel.
The oblivious crowd, meanwhile, swarmed past them and gathered round the motor car into which Gabriel and Charis had clambered.
Dr Venables offered Felix a handful of confetti from the paper bag he was holding.
“I won’t if you don’t mind,” Felix said.
Dr Venables looked at him quizzically. “Are you sure every-thing’s all right?” he asked.
Felix looked exasperated. “Everyone seems particularly concerned about my health today.”
“Suit yourself,” Dr Venables said, and pointedly tossed a handful of confetti at the car.
Gabriel and Charis sat in the rear seat, smiling radiantly at everyone and shouting their goodbyes. Felix heard his name called.
“Bye, Felix!” Gabriel shouted.
Felix coolly raised a palm in response, struggling to keep the emotions that had suddenly begun to turmoil within him in check. He was happy to back away as a path was cleared to allow the major—dizzy, streaming-eyed, and breathless—to make his farewells. Then the gears were engaged, Cyril tooted the horn and the car slowly pulled away to renewed cheers from the guests, the smiling faces of the happy couple framed together in the small rear window, waving good-bye, until a turn in the drive and a dense clump of rhododendrons eventually obscured the view.
Chapter 6
26 July 1914,
Trouville-sur-Mer, France
Charis loved Gabriel. Of that fact she was absolutely sure. But there was no doubt that he was behaving most oddly.
They walked now along the crowded promenade at Trouville above the bright and frantic bathing beaches. It was eleven in the morning, they had been married for twenty-four hours and her virginity was still intact.
The journey from Stackpole to Trouville had been a frustrating history of delays. Cyril drove them down to Folkestone smoothly and expertly enough, but for some reason the steamer left the harbour an hour late, thereby ensuring that they missed their train to Paris. In Paris their planned stop for an evening meal had to be cancelled, and they rushed from the Gare du Nord to the Gare St Lazare and only just managed to catch the Amiens—Trouville express. The journey to the Normandy coast took four and a half hours and they arrived at Trouville/ Deauville station at half past midnight. Charis was extremely disappointed. Trouville Casino held a ball every Saturday night and she and Gabriel had counted on attending it, even if only for an hour. Worse was to follow. When they eventually reached the Hotel d’Angleterre it was found that one piece of their luggage was missing.
Charis also noticed, as they approached their destination, a distinct, uncharacteristic increase of tension in Gabriel’s manner. Curiously, this seemed to be relieved by the loss of one of their cases rather than exacerbated. He saw her established in their suite of rooms, wolfed down a sandwich and a glass of milk and went directly back down to the station to see if he could get any sense out of the night porters. “Back soon, darling,” he had said. Charis undressed, put on her night clothes, got into bed and lay patiently waiting for him to return.
She thought it a little peculiar that the missing case should prove so important to him. But Gabriel knew best. When he returned an hour and a half later it was with the case but she was asleep, exhausted by the long day. She woke up as he climbed into bed beside her, her heart suddenly beating faster and a faint sense of panic over what she knew must next take place. But all Gabriel did was to lean over and kiss her affectionately on the cheek.
“Got the case, Carrie old girl. Let’s get some sleep, shall we? Honeymoon starts tomorrow,” was all he said and turned away from her, pulling the sheets over his shoulder. He was asleep within
The oblivious crowd, meanwhile, swarmed past them and gathered round the motor car into which Gabriel and Charis had clambered.
Dr Venables offered Felix a handful of confetti from the paper bag he was holding.
“I won’t if you don’t mind,” Felix said.
Dr Venables looked at him quizzically. “Are you sure every-thing’s all right?” he asked.
Felix looked exasperated. “Everyone seems particularly concerned about my health today.”
“Suit yourself,” Dr Venables said, and pointedly tossed a handful of confetti at the car.
Gabriel and Charis sat in the rear seat, smiling radiantly at everyone and shouting their goodbyes. Felix heard his name called.
“Bye, Felix!” Gabriel shouted.
Felix coolly raised a palm in response, struggling to keep the emotions that had suddenly begun to turmoil within him in check. He was happy to back away as a path was cleared to allow the major—dizzy, streaming-eyed, and breathless—to make his farewells. Then the gears were engaged, Cyril tooted the horn and the car slowly pulled away to renewed cheers from the guests, the smiling faces of the happy couple framed together in the small rear window, waving good-bye, until a turn in the drive and a dense clump of rhododendrons eventually obscured the view.
Chapter 6
26 July 1914,
Trouville-sur-Mer, France
Charis loved Gabriel. Of that fact she was absolutely sure. But there was no doubt that he was behaving most oddly.
They walked now along the crowded promenade at Trouville above the bright and frantic bathing beaches. It was eleven in the morning, they had been married for twenty-four hours and her virginity was still intact.
The journey from Stackpole to Trouville had been a frustrating history of delays. Cyril drove them down to Folkestone smoothly and expertly enough, but for some reason the steamer left the harbour an hour late, thereby ensuring that they missed their train to Paris. In Paris their planned stop for an evening meal had to be cancelled, and they rushed from the Gare du Nord to the Gare St Lazare and only just managed to catch the Amiens—Trouville express. The journey to the Normandy coast took four and a half hours and they arrived at Trouville/ Deauville station at half past midnight. Charis was extremely disappointed. Trouville Casino held a ball every Saturday night and she and Gabriel had counted on attending it, even if only for an hour. Worse was to follow. When they eventually reached the Hotel d’Angleterre it was found that one piece of their luggage was missing.
Charis also noticed, as they approached their destination, a distinct, uncharacteristic increase of tension in Gabriel’s manner. Curiously, this seemed to be relieved by the loss of one of their cases rather than exacerbated. He saw her established in their suite of rooms, wolfed down a sandwich and a glass of milk and went directly back down to the station to see if he could get any sense out of the night porters. “Back soon, darling,” he had said. Charis undressed, put on her night clothes, got into bed and lay patiently waiting for him to return.
She thought it a little peculiar that the missing case should prove so important to him. But Gabriel knew best. When he returned an hour and a half later it was with the case but she was asleep, exhausted by the long day. She woke up as he climbed into bed beside her, her heart suddenly beating faster and a faint sense of panic over what she knew must next take place. But all Gabriel did was to lean over and kiss her affectionately on the cheek.
“Got the case, Carrie old girl. Let’s get some sleep, shall we? Honeymoon starts tomorrow,” was all he said and turned away from her, pulling the sheets over his shoulder. He was asleep within
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