Survivor (14 page)

Yet, despite not working, none of
Rose’s friends seemed the least bit concerned about getting married and
raising families. They travelled, took a great deal of interest in world affairs,
went to concerts, visited nightclubs and took part in sport. Next to them Mariette
felt like a real country bumpkin who hadn’t the least idea about anything.

‘My parents expected me to work
while I was here,’ Mariette confided in Rose. ‘But I don’t know
anything, so what work could I do?’

‘What do you enjoy doing?’
Rose asked.

‘Sailing and fishing,’
Mariette joked. ‘But I don’t suppose there’s much call for those
talents in London. I like sewing too.’

Rose smiled. ‘There’s
sailing on the Serpentine in summer, but sewing’s a real asset. I bet my
mother could pull some strings for you there. She knows most of the couture places
in London.’

Rose must have spoken to her parents
about this because the following evening, when Rose had gone out to a concert with a
friend, Noah brought up the subject over dinner.

‘I know Belle and Etienne felt you
should work while you are here, but Lisette and I just wanted you to enjoy being in
London for a while before thinking about that. However, Rose mentioned you wanted to
do dressmaking.’

‘It’s one of the few things
I’m good at,’ she said. ‘But then, I had good teachers in Mum and
Mog.’

Noah frowned. ‘While you may love
dressmaking, Mari, I think you may get very disillusioned about working in a couture
house. The pay is abysmal, the hours very long, and you are likely to be put to work
on just one tiny part of the
garment,
never doing the whole thing. How about doing a secretarial course? Once you can
type, you can get work anywhere in the world, and when you go back to New Zealand
too. I wish I’d learned to type properly when I was a lad. As it is,
I’ve had to struggle and get by with two or three fingers for all these
years.’

Mariette had heard him tapping away at a
typewriter in his study. She’d grown up seeing his hugely successful book on
the 1914 war on the bookshelf at home. Her parents always showed it to people and
proudly told them he was their friend. Mariette felt a bit ashamed now that she
hadn’t tried to read it, especially as her father’s input had been huge,
telling Noah the inside stories about how it really was for the enlisted men, and
exposing the mistakes of the generals. Since that bestseller Noah had turned to
writing fiction, penning a series of very popular gritty detective stories. She had
read two of those on the ship, and really loved them.

‘I think I’d like to do
that, Uncle Noah,’ she agreed. Even though she did like sewing, she
wasn’t sure she wanted to be cloistered in a totally female world. ‘And
I think Mum and Dad would approve too.’

Noah beamed. ‘First thing
tomorrow, I’ll make some phone calls,’ he said. ‘I think Lisette
would agree that dressmaking is a rewarding hobby, but hardly a career.’

Later that evening, Noah went off to his
study and Lisette and Mariette sat by the fire together speaking in French. They
made a point of speaking French every day now – often just for a few minutes, while
they were doing something together – but on a night like this, when they were alone,
they would keep it up for an hour or more.

Papa had also done this since Mariette
was old enough to speak, and she really enjoyed it. But speaking to another woman
brought new words into her vocabulary, and
Lisette worked hard on giving her a more Parisian
accent, rather than the Marseille pronunciation she had heard from her father.

They chatted in French about fashion for
some little while, then Lisette suddenly changed back to English.

‘I hope you didn’t agree to
train as a secretary just to please Noah?’ she said. ‘He can have some
odd ideas about women’s jobs. Since he became so successful, he has also
become a bit of a snob.’

‘Do you mean he thinks dressmaking
is a bit like working in a factory?’ Mariette asked.

Mog had often made jokes about the class
system in England, but her comments had been wasted on Mariette as class
didn’t really exist in New Zealand. But Morgan had made sharp remarks about
the differences between officers and ordinary seamen. And once she’d been in
England for a few days, she’d begun to notice certain things for herself,
accents in particular.

All Rose’s friends had very posh
accents, like people on the wireless. One of them had made a cutting remark about
someone who was a ‘shop girl’, giving Mariette the idea they saw people
who did the more lowly jobs, or spoke with a different accent, as another
species.

It was this attitude which made Mariette
realize that Rose’s friends would not approve of Morgan. She had already
identified his accent as cockney, much like the very jolly milkman who called her
‘ducks’ and Lisette ‘missis’. Mr and Mrs Andrews spoke much
the same way too, though not quite so obviously.

Lisette made a funny little sucking
noise with her mouth, as if considering whether her husband thought dressmaking was
as lowly as factory work. ‘It is very hard for me to explain how people in
England think about such things, my dear.
Noah has many friends in high places now, and that has
changed his outlook a little.’

‘And he wouldn’t like to
tell them his goddaughter was working as a seamstress?’ Mariette prompted
her.

Lisette blushed. ‘You are so like
your mother, Mari. Belle always said everything as it was, not what people wanted to
hear.’

To Mariette making beautiful dresses was
as skilful as being a surgeon, and it made no sense to her that anyone could
classify one as being lower class, and the other as upper. ‘But a secretary is
fine?’ she asked.

‘It is a job girls from good homes
do,’ Lisette replied, and made a gesture with her hands as if that made no
sense to her either.

‘You mean, if they aren’t
clever enough to be an accountant or a doctor?’

‘Now you sound like
Etienne,’ Lisette said with a wry smile. ‘He was always a champion of
the working class. Belle and Mog too struggled with class distinctions. I remember,
when they first moved to Blackheath, they made a real effort to appear more genteel,
just so they would fit in. They had a book they read, called
Correct
English
, and when I visited them all three of us would try phrases. We used
to laugh so much doing what Mog called “posh voices”.’

Mariette laughed too. She remembered
how, just before she left New Zealand, her mother and Mog had done this to
illustrate how some people in England spoke. Their London accents had mellowed after
nearly twenty years in New Zealand – they mostly sounded like people who had been
born there – but when they talked to each other, especially about England, they
tended to lapse back into their old ways.

‘I have an advantage, in being
French, for some reason anyone hearing my accent assumes I’m a
“lady”,’ Lisette said
with a chuckle. ‘But it took me some years to
understand what is meant by that. Even now, when I see Mrs Andrews who is ten years
older than me lifting a heavy coal scuttle, I want to help her. But she would be
horrified, if I did. She thinks it is her place to do such jobs.’

‘I’m not sure I know what
place I should be in,’ Mariette said. ‘My father fishes and does
building work, and my mother makes hats. So that makes me working class,
doesn’t it?’

‘The whole class system is
ridiculous.’ Lisette patted Mariette’s knee to stress she too found it
baffling. ‘Both Noah and I came from humble beginnings, but because Noah made
a name for himself as a very good journalist and author, we found ourselves shunted
upwards. This is exactly why your parents felt we were the right people to guide
your future.’

‘But Dad doesn’t have any
time for the class system,’ Mariette said with a touch of indignation.
‘I don’t think he’d want me to get airs and graces.’

‘It isn’t about that,
it’s about acquiring polish, knowing how to behave in company, so you can mix
easily with all kinds of people, Mari. Noah and I had to learn that, just as Belle
had to when she had her hat shop. It is that polish that your parents want for you.
They would never want you to become a snob, but they do want doors to open for
you.

‘Maybe, in six months’ time,
you will go home and marry a carpenter, or a fisherman, and be as happy as your
parents are. But it is always good to have choices, to know about the possibilities
there are in life. And that’s what Noah and I want to help you with. Do you
understand what I mean?’

‘Yes, I do,’ Mariette
agreed. Lisette had put it very well. ‘But I don’t think Noah would like
it much if I wanted to walk out with a bus conductor, a train driver or a
ship’s steward, would he?’

‘Did you meet a nice steward on
the ship?’

The inquiring
tone in Lisette’s voice brought Mariette up sharply. The word
‘steward’ had slipped out, and it was clear Lisette had picked up on its
importance.

There was no sense in trying to lie her
way out of it. ‘Yes, I did,’ she admitted. ‘His name is Morgan
Griffiths, and he took care of me when I was in the sickbay. I really liked
him.’

‘I see,’ Lisette said
thoughtfully. ‘Is there a reason you haven’t mentioned him
before?’

‘Well, as you probably know, I was
a bit foolish over a man back home,’ Mariette said cautiously. ‘I expect
Mum and Papa warned you to watch me like a hawk.’

‘Strange as it may seem to you,
your parents told us nothing like that. Of course, we did suspect something,’
Lisette smiled. ‘But you are not alone in being foolish. It is something we
all expect from young people. Rose has had her moments, and Jean-Philippe too when
he was your age. Both Noah and I did things that we aren’t so proud of now.
The biggest danger for young girls is that they often get carried away by a handsome
face, and fail to look at the man’s character. Do you think Morgan is a good
man?’

‘Yes, I do. But it is hard to be
sure when you only have a short time with someone.’

‘And on the ship you only saw him
for moments here and there?’

Mariette nodded.

Lisette took Mariette’s hand in
both of hers and squeezed it. ‘When you meet a man in secret, you only see
what you want to see. You are often so caught up by the excitement and by the way he
makes you feel, you don’t question anything, or look too closely. I have
discovered the best way to find out how a man really is, is to watch him in the
company of other people you know well. Both good and bad points become apparent
then.’

‘But
other people said how charming he was.’ Mariette felt that Lisette was
dismissing Morgan out of hand. ‘You would too, if you met him.’

‘I hope so,
ma
chérie
,’ Lisette smiled. ‘So when he is back in England, we invite
him here. Yes?’

The first week of March was cold, with
rain and strong winds, but the weather turned warmer in time for Mariette’s
birthday, on the 8th. Suddenly there were swathes of daffodils in the parks and
gardens, green buds on the trees, and Mariette understood why Mog had said England
was beautiful in the spring.

Lisette and Noah gave her a beautiful
silver locket for her birthday, with an inscription from them inside it. Rose gave
her a fluffy stole, and a parcel came from home with a turquoise crêpe de Chine
dress made by Mog, a white hat with a turquoise ribbon from her mother and, from her
papa, a replica of his little fishing boat which he’d carved and painted
himself. The name of the boat was
Little Rebel
, which made her eyes prickle
with tears.

Lisette made a special birthday tea,
including a cake with nineteen candles. After Mariette had blown out the candles,
Rose announced they were going to be picked up later by Peter Hayes and taken
dancing in Soho.

‘So you’d better put your
glad rags on, Mari,’ she said. ‘I know you’ve been dying to wear
that divine cream lace dress ever since you got here. Now’s your
chance.’

Peter Hayes took Rose out quite often.
She had confided in Mariette that he was the man she wanted to marry, but she played
hard to get, often accepting dates with other male friends.

Mariette liked Peter, as did Lisette and
Noah. He was twenty-eight, tall, with soft brown eyes. Although not exactly
handsome, he was, as Rose described
him, ‘presentable’ and a solicitor. Rose made much of him coming from a
very good family, and she often spoke about their huge house out in Berkshire, but
however much Rose made out that she was selecting him for his family and position,
Mariette knew that wasn’t his only attraction. He was not only lively,
intelligent, kind and generous, but sexy too.

Rose was a virgin and intended to stay
that way until she married. But Mariette could see by the way her friend lit up in
Peter’s company that she was itching to go to bed with him.

‘You’ll have a lovely time
with Peter and Rose,’ Lisette assured her. ‘I know we can trust Peter to
look after you. Now, run along and get ready.’

As the two girls went upstairs, Rose
whispered, ‘Peter’s bringing a friend. I know you’ll like him. His
name is Gerald Allsop; he’s younger than Peter but they went to the same
school.’

‘Is he a solicitor too?’
Mariette asked.

‘No, not yet, he’s still
doing his articles. I didn’t tell Mother and Father he would be with us
because they would want to meet him and quiz him first. That’s a bit of an
ordeal for anyone, they are so old-fashioned sometimes. So he’ll meet us
there. But if you do like him and want to see him again, I’ll just tell them
tomorrow that Peter introduced you to him, which is more or less the
truth.’

‘Are you sure you want me coming
along with you and Peter?’ Mariette asked. She was a little afraid Gerald
would prove to be stuffy and earnest, and that Rose had only asked her to come with
them tonight to stop Gerald being a gooseberry when she wanted to be alone with
Peter.