No Regrets: A Novel of Love and Lies in World War II England (The Thornton Trilogy Book 1) (5 page)

On February 10, 1941, Elise gave birth to a healthy, baby girl. She had flaxen hair and beautiful brown eyes. So, while she’d not inherited her grandfather’s dark tresses, she
had
become heir to his warm gaze. She was named Chloe Arabella de Baier. The moment the nurse placed her into Elise’s arms, there was no question about whether she’d made the right decision. She could never have allowed anyone else to be the precious infant’s mother. It didn’t matter in the least how Chloe had been given life. Her sweet face nearly erased Elise’s bitter memories, and she could only see the present and future.

After three days in hospital, she brought the baby back to
Maison de Violette.
While that had always been the plan, and Elise hadn’t worried about raising an infant in such surroundings, suddenly her viewpoint shifted. What the blazes had she been thinking? The first few months wouldn’t be so worrisome, but she abruptly came to the realization that her little girl shouldn’t be brought up in a house of ill-repute. She was hesitant about discussing the matter with Madame Violette, who’d been so kind and caring throughout the pregnancy. The last thing Elise wanted was to offend her. But the welfare of her child was of paramount importance. She would do whatever was necessary. Even more upsetting was the fact that Elise had no idea where she and Chloe could go. She had some money, but not enough to pay for anything beyond a low-cost bed-sit. That was no way to raise a child.

She went to Giselle. Her friend immediately understood and agreed wholeheartedly that Chloe couldn’t begin life surrounded by ladies of the night. The two talked at length, and Giselle told Elise to wait a few days before she spoke to Violette. Giselle had an idea, but wanted to think it through carefully. She had to make certain it was plausible. Elise agreed, but tossed and turned trying desperately to think of some alternative. She considered finding employment, so she could pay for a better place to live, but who would care for Chloe? She could send her to board with a kind family, but she had such deep love for the baby and hated the idea of being forced to part with her.

Finally Giselle came to her room with a proposed solution. She’d decided to find a different, respectable way to earn a living, away from Brighton. As soon as she found employment in another village, Elise and Chloe would join her. They could all share a small cottage wherever Giselle found work. Elise was dumbfounded. It was hard to fathom that her friend might change her entire life to ensure Chloe had a proper upbringing. She voiced her feelings, but Giselle shrugged them off.

“Elise, I’m more than ready for a new life. I was a foolish child when I went to Paris. Then, I found myself trapped. I never should have become involved in this sort of work. But what could I have done? I was poor, with no one to guide me. It happened slowly. At first I was simply a sort-of maid. Then, they offered me a way to make a lot of money. I was stupid. But things have changed. The war has made an incredible difference. A lot of women have gone to work in factories and the like. Personally, I’d rather find work in domestic service. I believe that’s possible, because now women have other options. Ladies who were employed in great houses have left for more lucrative jobs. I know factories pay more, but I can’t picture myself doing that sort of labour. I’ve always loved beautiful things and, if I can’t own them, I’d enjoy working among them. I’d also learn a lot.” Giselle laughed. “I might even add some refinement, which would further my dreams of finding a respectable husband.”

“You don’t need refinement, Giselle. But, it’s awfully hard for me to agree to this plan. How can I allow you to support Chloe and me? I
do
have some money and, of course, I’m willing to share what I have with you. Perhaps we could make it work until Chloe is old enough for school. Then I could find a job too – at least part-time.”

“Yes. You see, I think it’s a fine plan. Even if you don’t agree, I’m going to leave
Maison de
Violette
. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. But, I’d so much rather have a friend come with me, to share a cottage. Perhaps we could find the one we’ve dreamed about. Who knows? Perhaps even near the sea. Oh say you’ll do it, Elise.”

“Of course I’d love to. How will we go about it?”

“I’ll go first, and search for a position. When I’ve found a job and a cottage, I’ll post you. Then, you and Chloe will join me.”

“It sounds so wonderful. Where are you thinking of searching?”

“I’ve already researched the locations of some of the large estates on the southeast coast. I could enquire by letter but, to be perfectly honest, I think it would be wiser to present myself in person. I don’t mean to sound self-centered, but since God has blessed me with attractive features, I’ll put them to good use.” She laughed again. “That’s what I’ve been doing for years now, isn’t it? I’ll just present myself in a different way. The hair will go into a bun, and I’ll be plain and modest in my dress. I know the aristocracy prefers an employee who gives a pleasant, subdued appearance. And, I should think a French accent might be attractive. I’ll take anything they offer – parlour-maid, whatever.”

“Giselle, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble finding a position. You may be surprised. The only problem I can see is your lack of a reference. The sort of employer you’re talking about usually wants a recommendation.”

“Well, I’ve only recently come to England from France. Because of the war. How does anyone know that I didn’t have a fine position in my own Country? Perhaps my former employers were sent to an internment camp. That would explain why I don’t have a letter from them.”

“I’ve told you before that anything is possible,” Elise smiled. “I think your explanation is excellent.”

“All right, dear friend. I’ll speak to Violette and begin to pack my bag. We’ll start a brand, new life together.

***

By June 1941, Giselle Dupris and Elise de Baier were firmly ensconced in a small, stone cottage. It sat in a quaint village named Thornton-on-Sea. Neither of them had ever heard of it before. Giselle had made a journey around the entire southeastern coastline, stopping at every house of a size to employ a staff of servants. It hadn’t been easy. There were a couple of residences offering the position of cook’s helper, and she wasn’t above accepting such work. But, she wanted to make certain something better wasn’t available. Finally, she’d come to Thornton-on-Sea. It was a charming seaside town, about one hundred miles past Brighton. The ancient manor of
Highcroft Hall
dominated the picturesque hamlet. It was built of red brick, covered in thick, green Ivy and wisteria. The main house was massive, with a pillared veranda that ran the length of the façade. At either end there were wings extending to the front. Giselle had never seen anyplace so beautiful. It sat high on a hill, over-looking the sea, and there were acres and acres of rolling green parkland, with rolling mounds in the distance. The moment she’d seen the exquisite mansion and its bucolic setting, she’d been enchanted and wondered if she might be lucky enough to find employment there.

A very proper English gentleman opened the door when she knocked. His name was Richmond, and he was the butler. He was dressed in the traditional black, suit all butlers wear. Giselle wore a grey, shirtwaist dress, with a belted skirt that fell to her calves. She’d also donned short white gloves and a simple hat. Richmond asked her to enter. Then he summoned Mrs. Littleton, the housekeeper. He introduced Giselle and said she was searching for employment in a great house. Mrs. Littleton was very kind. She took Giselle into her small office and offered a cup of tea. Once they were settled, a discussion ensued about Giselle’s previous experience. Giselle managed to answer the questions with her previously rehearsed lines, followed by the fact that she had excellent skills in a wide variety of tasks, including housekeeping, care of fragile items, setting a formal table and the personal toilette of ladies. The latter appealed greatly, as Lady Celia Thornton, the Countess at
Highcroft Hall,
was searching for a lady’s maid. The lovely, young French woman, sitting in front of Mrs. Littleton, was a rare find. Mrs. Littleton knew Lady Celia would adore having a French accent in her boudoir. While neither Lord Rowan nor Lady Celia put on airs, they weren’t above adding a pretty, French girl to their staff. Mrs. Littleton made arrangements for Giselle to speak privately with the countess.

The day turned out to be a long one, but in the end, Giselle walked away from
Highcroft Hall
over-the-moon. Lady Celia had hired her, at better wages than she’d anticipated, and told her she could begin in two weeks. That allowed Giselle time to find a place to live and to summon Elise and Chloe.

She rose early the next morning and set about looking for a cottage to lease. There were no advertisements in the local newspaper, so she visited a property agent’s office. While standing on the street, outside of the large window, displaying pictures of homes, she spotted a photo of a sweet cottage. It was surrounded by a picket fence. A typical English garden dominated the entrance. It resembled the cottage she and Elise had day-dreamed about. Giselle was certain it wouldn’t be available to them, because it was probably not for lease, or the price would be prohibitive. Before Giselle had left Brighton, the two friends had put pen to paper, figuring how much they could afford. Giselle’s wages had turned out to be much better than hoped for, but the cottage looked as though its price would be very dear. Entering the office, she spied a middle-aged woman, sitting behind a desk, doing paperwork. She glanced up and smiled. Giselle introduced herself, and the other woman acted in kind.

“My name is Paula Jordan. I’m the manager here. I’ll be happy to help you. I’m very familiar with the cottage you’re talking about – the one in the window. It’s a little jewel.”

“I don’t suppose it can be let?” Giselle asked.

“Yes – yes, it can be. It was owned by an elderly lady. She’s passed on. Her heirs are quite flexible. They’d let it, or it can be bought. Would you like to see it?”

“Not until I know what the cost would be. I’m interested for a widowed friend of mine and her daughter – and, of course, for me. We’re on a rigid budget, so there’s no point in seeing it, if it isn’t in our price range.”

“I understand,” replied Mrs. Jordan. “Let me get the folder with particulars. We can go over them.”

She opened a drawer and, after a moment, pulled out a file with the cottage’s address printed on a label at the top. Instead of a street number, it simply had a name – ‘
No Regrets’
. Giselle laughed. She liked the name. Mrs. Jordan chuckled along with her.

“Everyone around here is familiar with the cottage. For as long as I can recall that’s been the name. As I said, the previous owner was older. She and her husband originally purchased and named it. I suppose it could be changed, if you wanted something else. I don’t think the heirs care one way or the other.”

“Actually, I think it might fit us perfectly,” Giselle smiled. “Since we’re starting a new life, it seems appropriate.”

“From your charming accent, I suspect you’re from France?” Mrs. Jordan said.

“Yes. We both were fortunate to escape during the Dunkirk evacuations. How horrible it’s all become. My friend lost her husband. She was in early pregnancy. Since then, she’s had a lovely daughter, who’s taken away some of the anguish. I didn’t leave any family behind. We met in Brighton, and now I’ve accepted employment at
Highcroft Hall,
as a lady’s maid. It seems a charming home, and I feel fortunate.”

“
Highcroft Hall
. Yes, it is a splendid estate. You’ll find that the Thorntons are extremely nice people. They have a son, but of course, he’s away fighting, as are all men between eighteen and forty. I believe he’s in Africa. I should think it would be a lovely place to work. You’ll find the village very welcoming. Of course, it’s small, but we have most everything one needs. What with rationing, there isn’t too much one can buy anyway, is there?” she exclaimed, ruefully.

“No. I think the village is charming and quaint. I like the size, and I’m certain Elise will too. That’s my widowed friend’s name.”

“Ah, here’s the information on pricing details and the like,” Mrs. Jordan said, as she thumbed through the file. “Actually, it looks quite reasonable, for such a location, close to the sea.” She quoted Giselle a figure that was well below what both she and Elise had in mind. She could scarcely believe it.

“Yes, that’s very much in keeping with our budget. I’d definitely like to see it, if that’s possible.”

“Yes, of course. The cottage is unoccupied, so we can pop over there right now, and have a look. Let me get the key.”

***

It was captivating. Stone, with a thatched roof, it sat adjacent to the beach, next to dunes and a nature reserve. The front yard was densely planted with delightful flowers, ranging from larkspur, to roses and foxglove. There were three bedrooms – two double and one twin, two bathrooms, a cozy parlour with fireplace, dining alcove and roomy kitchen. The cottage had clearly seen better days, and Giselle immediately understood the modest price. Everything looked to be in good working order, but the décor was terribly dated. So were the kitchen appliances. On the other hand, the floors were flagstone, there were no cracks of major proportion on the ceilings or walls, and the baths were decent. It needed elbow grease, but that wasn’t problematic. Giselle walked through the rooms several times, noting how three people would fit. Just as she was thinking about how much furniture they’d need to buy, Mrs. Jordan remarked that for a small, additional fee the cottage could be bought or leased furnished. That definitely sealed the deal. Not everything was what Giselle would have chosen, but it would suffice until the day she and Elise could do some refurnishing. The important rooms – those that guests would see – were furnished in faded, chintz-covered sofas and chairs, and there was a pretty dining set with a refectory table. Giselle loved the fact that there were French doors from the living room to a terrace, where another garden was in full bloom. After a thorough look-through, she told Mrs. Jordan she loved it and wished to sign a lease.