Julian and I spent happy hours together over the next few days, comfortable now that we understood the boundaries of our relationship. He accompanied me to shop for new shoes on Friday then we ate a leisurely lunch at Café Français, where I shared details about my family in Luang Prabang and what I had learned about my parents. His compassion helped ease the sadness I felt. He nearly fell off his chair laughing as I recounted stories of riding horseback to Luang Prabang—my aching backside, the hazards of finding a safe spot in our “outdoor” water closet, the scourge of insects and leeches, and our encounter with the tiger. We talked of sleepy Luang Prabang and its beautiful temples, which he had visited once as a young teen. Hopefully he couldn’t sense the dark cloud lurking in the background, the horror I struggled to erase from my mind.
“What will you do once your brother comes?” he asked, sipping an espresso after the meal.
“I’m not sure. It depends on how much time he has off from his job.”
“Do you think he might move to Vientiane?”
“I want us to be together somewhere. Perhaps I should go to Pakse. If I stay in Vientiane, I’ll always be afraid of running into Bounmy, especially after he brings his new wife here. I can’t bear to think of it.” I took a deep breath to quell the tremor in my voice. “Wherever Antoine and I settle, I hope we’ll be as close as you and Catherine.”
He put his hand over mine and squeezed it. “I have no doubt you will be.”
“When exactly will you leave for France?” I asked. That morning over breakfast, he had announced his decision to leave for home. Poor Catherine had put on a brave face, but it was clear she was heartbroken.
“I have to check the ship departures from Saigon for Marseille, but as soon after Marguerite’s wedding as possible.” He smiled. “She threatened bodily harm if I don’t attend.”
“Will you live in Paris?”
“I’ll be in Burgundy with my parents. My father’s friend has offered me a job at his vineyards and winery to start, so I become familiar with the business. But I hope to transfer to their offices in Paris within the year to work in sales and distribution. They’re a large organization with an international market. Given the economy, I’m lucky to have such a generous offer.”
“I’ll miss you.”
“We’ll write.”
“Of course.” I smiled, suppressing my deep disappointment at losing Julian. “Then I shall see you next in France. I’m determined to get an education and future of my choice. I can’t depend on anyone else to take care of me, not even Antoine.”
He smiled with satisfaction, like a proud parent. “You’re an independent woman! I can see no one will stand in your way.”
Charles arrived in Vientiane on Friday afternoon, and we all celebrated at the Cercle Saturday night for a raucous prelude to his and Marguerite’s upcoming marriage.
I was reveling over the news Catherine had delivered that afternoon. She had sat me down on the front veranda. “Maîtresse Durand called me a little while ago,” she’d begun. “You’ll be relieved to hear the board of directors for the Assistance Society in Paris has recalled Director Bernard to France. He’s being replaced by a very nice woman who my mother knows. Things should improve dramatically for the girls.”
A heavy lump deep inside my middle, like an undigested bite of food, slowly dissolved. Finally, Director Bernard was being held accountable. “That’s wonderful. Was it your mother’s letter to the Society that convinced them?” I asked.
“In part, but it seems Maîtresse also wrote a scathing report to the board after Bridgette’s passing,” Catherine answered. “She simply couldn’t let Bernard continue to get away with his abuse and neglect. She is a woman who often surprises me.” I was almost ready to forgive Maîtresse for her part in Bridgette’s death.
Now, sitting at our table at the Cercle, Julian lifted two champagne glasses from the tray of a passing waiter, handing me one and raising his in a toast. “Good riddance to Director Bernard,” Julian said. “His karma has caught up with him.”
“I’m happy for the sake of the other girls. At least Bridgette’s death has fostered some good.”
The first dance began, and Julian whispered in my ear, “The next one is mine.”
A half-hour later, Prince Souvanna and Aline Allard arrived, joining a young French couple at their table. A moment of panic swept over me that Bounmy might show up, but there was no sign of him. Most likely he was avoiding the club and the possibility of seeing me. A vengeful part of me hoped someone would inform him that I was having a grand time with Julian. Perhaps he would feel a pain equal to my own.
As the evening wore on, the music and gaiety filled me with a joy that had eluded me since the trauma of Luang Prabang and my breakup with Bounmy. I decided I didn’t care in the least what any of the other patrons at the club thought of me. Let them gossip and spread rumors all they wanted, if they didn’t have anything better to do. I refused to be intimidated and made to feel ashamed of being a métisse, cowering and hiding away like a criminal. Newly emboldened, I greeted several couples Catherine had previously introduced me to, daring them to snub me. To my surprise, they responded with genuine smiles and asked me how my life was going. Perhaps if I was friendly and confident, some of these people would be kinder.
Julian and I happily twirled around the room all evening, as comfortable in each other’s arms as an old married couple. At one point Prince Souvanna and Mademoiselle Allard glided past us, her arm brushing my shoulder as they gazed into each other’s eyes, oblivious to everyone around them. How had Prince Souvanna found the courage to pursue his love, despite the disapproval of the king and royal court and the gossip that circulated throughout Laos? Why couldn’t Bounmy have been as brave?
Late in the evening, I found Catherine in the lady’s room, sitting on a bench in the corner of the lounge. Tears coursed down her pale cheeks.
“Catherine, what’s wrong?” I knelt down and took her hand.
She dabbed her tears with a handkerchief. “I’m feeling sorry for myself. Julian is leaving for France. Marguerite is getting married. I’m afraid you’ll leave once your brother comes.” Her shoulders shook with a sob. “It’s terribly self…selfish of me. I really do want…others to be happy.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been so wrapped up in my troubles, I haven’t even asked how you’re doing.”
She stared into my eyes, her face filled with sorrow. “Tell me. When you saw Marcel, how was he? Marguerite said you had coffee with him, and he brought you information about your father.”
This was the first time she had asked me anything about him. “He seemed very different from the man I met here. He’s stopped drinking and is living a quiet life. He was kind enough to offer to look up my father’s employment file.” I took a deep breath. “His face seemed worn and tired, his eyes full of pain, and he’s lost quite a bit of weight.” I stopped, unsure what more I should say. “He told me how much he loves you, that he realized too late what a remarkable woman you are. I believe he was sincere.”
She bit her lower lip for a moment. “Do you think people can change?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What a silly question. You’re eighteen and hardly know anything about the world.”
I chuckled. “True. And yet, I’ve managed to make a complete mess of my life.” I paused. “Do you think of him often?”
“All the time. The letter you brought me broke my heart.” She took in a deep breath. “I finally wrote back, and we’ve exchanged letters. He’s begging me to come to Luang Prabang. I have eight weeks’ leave starting in January. I know it sounds insane, but I still love him.”
“You want to go?”
“Desperately.” She looked into my eyes, as if begging for approval. “If he has truly stopped drinking, and he’s no longer with his wife…”
“I’m not the least bit qualified to give advice, but I think you should follow your heart.”
“You are the dearest girl.” She gave me a hug. “Marguerite will kill me when she finds out.”
I chuckled. “Remind her that she gave Charles a second chance and look where that led.”
She sat back. “I’m a terrible hypocrite, after telling you to break it off with Bounmy.”
“Monsieur Fontaine is getting divorced, while Bounmy’s about to get married. It’s an important distinction. I don’t regret loving Bounmy, as he brought me great happiness. But now I must stand on my own and figure out who I am and what I want in life.”
Catherine smiled. “You’re such a sensible girl!”