Pegasus: A Novel (38 page)

“You bastard!” the colonel shouted at him, and cocked the pistol he held at Alex’s
head.

“You can kill me, or drive us out of Germany.” Alex was speaking for Nick then. “But
there are thousands more like us, and we’ll win in the end. Truth is mightier than
the sword, and so is honor. You can’t dishonor us. You can kill us, but there will
always be more of us than of you.” As he said it with eyes full of hate and rage,
the colonel pulled the trigger. He wanted to silence him forever. But Alex had had
his pistol pointed at him, ready and cocked. And as the colonel fired, so did Alex—not
at the man but at the horse, which Alex knew would be the final blow to him, and far
more subtle. As Alex fell dead to the ground, so did Favory beneath the colonel. Alex
had had the last laugh, and he had chosen the most elegant exit, which was so like
him. He was a nobleman to the end.

The summer of 1944 was a strange season for the circus, too, a summer of disasters.
They had decided to change their route that year, and went north in the early months
of the tour, planning to head west later, so instead of California in July, they were
in Hartford, Connecticut. And on July 6, with the big cats in the center ring for
the first act, a fire broke out in the first twenty minutes of the show. It began
as a small blaze but ran up the sidewall of the tent. The band broke into “Stars and
Stripes Forever” immediately, which was the agreed-upon SOS signal to all circus personnel
that something was amiss, without alarming the crowd. And the ringmaster attempted
to warn the audience to leave the tent and not panic, but a power failure caused his
announcement to go unheard when the microphone died, just as people began noticing
the flames. They stampeded toward the exits, two of which were blocked by the big
cat cages and tunnels that funneled them into the ring. Pandemonium broke out, as
people became separated from their children, and the paraffin-coated tent, which had
been treated for waterproofing, erupted in a blaze and collapsed within eight minutes,
to the
horror of the audience, the crew, and all who saw it. From then on it became a battle
to save those inside, rescue children, find parents, get the animals as far away as
possible, and put the fire out. A hundred and sixty-eight people were killed, and
more than seven hundred were injured, and everyone associated with the circus was
devastated and shocked at the loss of life and the damage. Some of the victims had
been burned beyond recognition, but many were killed by the crowd trampling them as
they tried to flee. It was a tragedy like none other they had experienced.

Five officials of the circus were later charged with involuntary manslaughter, and
the circus accepted full financial responsibility to pay whatever damages were requested.
But the tragedy had left its mark on them all. John Ringling North was no longer running
the circus then and had left it a year earlier, but everyone associated with the circus
was in deep grief over what had happened. Nick and Christianna and everyone they knew
were deeply shaken. And tragically for those who knew and loved him, Joe Herlihy had
been killed in the fire. He had just come back from a scouting trip and wanted to
see some new additions to the show. Nick and Christianna were heartbroken by the loss
of a good friend.

The circus closed down during the investigation, and opened in Akron, Ohio, a month
later. Disheartened by what had happened, and working without a tent in heat and bad
weather, they made it as far as Texas, decided to end the season early, and went back
to Sarasota. And once back in Florida, after the disaster, Nick knew it was time.
He wanted to leave the circus. It was an insecure, nomadic existence, and he wanted
a normal life for their children, and he said as much to Christianna.

“This
is
normal,” she insisted. She had never known anything else, but he had, and even if
he could no longer provide the way of
life he had grown up in, he wanted stability for them. He wanted more than tattooed
freaks and bearded ladies, high-wire acts and big cats, and jugglers and contortionists,
for Chloe and Lucas. He knew that Lucas would miss the clowns and the friends he had
made in the past six years, but he wanted Chloe to grow up in a healthy, sane atmosphere,
like other children. But no matter what he said, he couldn’t convince Christianna.
She wanted to stay at all costs. And what her father had predicted was proving to
be true. Nick knew he would leave someday.

In November, Nick got a letter from Marianne that nearly broke his heart. He had been
afraid of hearing it for months. British Military Intelligence, at the request of
Charles Beaulieu, had been able to discover that Alex had been engaged in subversive
activities in his area, against the authorities on a small scale, and had saved many
lives. He had done all he could to undermine the Nazis and help Jews, and had even
helped to blow up a munitions train as a final mission. And the same morning, he had
been shot and killed and his body dumped on his doorstep. He was buried in the family
cemetery by one of his tenant farmers. But there was no question now as to what had
happened to Nick’s old friend. Alex was dead and had been for several months, and
Marianne was devastated when she shared it with Nick.

He wrote her a long letter of sympathy in response, but once again Nick had suffered
another painful loss, and Christianna was worried about him. He was restless and unhappy
and sad, and even Chloe’s antics didn’t always cheer him. The war had gone on for
too long for all of them, and taken too high a toll.

And in England, Isabel said the same to Charles. She was frantic about Marianne, who
was a young girl leading an old woman’s life, and was seriously melancholy after she
learned in October of her
father’s death. After the shock of losing Edmund two years before, she was deeply
depressed again. She had been widowed for two and a half years. And although Marianne
adored Violet, her sadness over her father’s death was greater than any pleasure she
derived from her little girl.

“There’s nothing we can do about it,” Charles said, looking tired. Isabel was always
trying to solve everyone’s problems, but there was no lightening the burden of the
war until it was over. Simon had been injured the year before and was back in action.
That was stressful enough for them after losing Edmund. It was a terrible time for
them all. Charles thought they just had to tough through it.

“I think we should send her to London,” Isabel said with her latest brainstorm.

“What, and have her killed by a bomb or falling debris from a burnt-out building?
Are you mad?”

“Not everyone gets killed in London. I’ll admit I don’t like the idea much myself,
but she’s twenty-three years old, and she has no friends here, nothing to look forward
to or to do. They may be dropping bombs on London, but there are parties and people
and young officers to flirt with.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Wait till the war is over, Izzie.” But she was worried about
Marianne and how despondent she had been since her father’s death. She didn’t even
seem to be enjoying Violet these days, who was an enchanting child.

“We can keep the little one here. At least send her up for a visit. She’s too depressed
over her father’s death. She needs to get out of here.”

She argued with him for a month, and finally after Christmas, she sent Marianne to
London to stay with cousins of the Beaulieus who had a lovely house on Belgravia Square,
near a bomb shelter. At first
Marianne said she didn’t want to go, but by the time she left, she looked brighter
again, and she was excited about her London visit. Isabel had chosen their cousins
for Marianne to stay with because they had a daughter the same age, and she could
introduce Marianne to some young people for a change. She had seen no one but her
parents-in-law for four years. And Marianne herself didn’t realize how much she had
missed being with people her own age since Edmund died, until she got to London and
their cousin Julie took her to a score of parties, and introduced her to everyone
she knew. She convinced Marianne to extend her stay and got her a volunteer job at
a hospital two days a week, and the rest of the time they were out every night. She
missed Violet, but her time in London was therapeutic and restoring her, so Isabel
urged her to stay there. Her trip to London was doing for her what Isabel had hoped.
She sounded young again, and happier than she’d been in years.

Marianne called the Beaulieus regularly, and she sounded like a different person.
And she didn’t tell her mother-in-law, but on New Year’s Day she had met a young officer
from Virginia, an American named Arthur Garrison, and she had seen him almost every
day since. She had never had so much fun in her life. And when she came back to Haversham
in February to see her daughter, she looked like a different person. Even Charles
had to admit it, and that Isabel’s mad idea had been the right thing, as always. Her
“mad ideas” were usually her best.

Charles had a serious talk with Marianne when she got back. The war was by no means
over, but when it would be, she would have to decide what to do about Schloss Altenberg,
and whether she would want to keep it or sell it. She couldn’t imagine living in Germany
again. Her life was in England with them, and it would be too sad for her at Altenberg
without her father. She thought she would probably
sell it, although she knew it would be painful to do so. For all this time she had
hoped to go back, but without her father, it had lost meaning for her.

“I thought you’d feel that way,” Charles said sensibly. “But I wanted to ask you.
I’ll help you when the time comes. And of course, my dear, we want you to stay here
with us. You will always have a home here.” And Edmund had left her a substantial
amount in his will, which she hadn’t expected. Charles knew that her father had had
a considerable fortune and extensive lands. Germany was liable to be in very bad shape
after the war, but she was his sole heir. And between Edmund and her father, she’d
been left a very substantial amount of money. She was set for life.

Marianne went back to London after a week and saw Arthur Garrison again. They shared
a passion for horses. He had a horse farm in Virginia where his family raised them.
He had inherited it right before the war when his parents died, and she told him about
her father’s Lipizzaners. He was fascinated by them, and by her, but he also noticed
how reticent she was to let any romance develop between them. She had fun with him,
and loved talking to him, but she treated him more like a friend, and he finally questioned
her about it one night after dinner.

“I lost my husband two and a half years ago,” she said quietly, “in a bombing raid
over Germany. And my father this year. I hadn’t seen him in four years since I came
to England. And my mother died when I was born.” She took a breath and tried to explain
to him what she was feeling. “I just don’t want to lose any more people in my life.
All I have are my daughter and my parents-in-law. I’m afraid that if I get attached
to anyone else, they’ll die too.” It was as honest and direct as she could be with
him, and tears stood out in her eyes as she said it.

“You’re twenty-three years old, Marianne. You can’t be afraid to love anyone for the
rest of your life, because they might die. That’s not fair. When the war is over,
we’ll all go back to normal lives. No one will be flying bombing raids, or having
bombs dropped on them. We’ll live with the risks of ordinary life.”

“The only family I ever had was my father,” she said sadly. “Now he’s gone. My best
friends died or left Germany. And I’ll never go back to live in Germany again. My
parents-in-law want me to stay here. And the only man I ever loved was Edmund, and
he died the day before my daughter was born. I don’t know if I have the courage to
try again.” Arthur was five years older than she was, and mature for his age.

“You’ve paid a high price for this war. Now you’re going to have to learn to live
with peacetime.”

“It’s not over yet,” she reminded him. He could still die, as any number of people
could.

“It will be soon. You can’t live hidden away in the country forever either. You’re
too young to do that.”

“Maybe I’ll move to London,” she said vaguely. She really didn’t know what she wanted
to do yet. He was kind and attentive, and they had the same interests. He was very
attractive, and protective of her. And she truly liked him.

“Will you give me a chance, Marianne?” he said softly. “Please?” He had never met
anyone like her.

“I don’t know if I can,” she said fairly.

“Let’s do it together,” he said with a kind expression. It was one of the things she
liked best about him, his gentleness, and how well he treated her. So had Edmund and
her father. Arthur reminded her a lot of Edmund in that way, although he was very
American and soft-spoken with a Southern accent, and not British. And he didn’t look
anything like Marianne’s late husband. He was as fair as Edmund had been dark, which
was a relief. It would have been too strange if he looked like Edmund. But they had
the same loving spirit. “I won’t push you,” he promised. He was smart enough to know
that that was a bad idea. She didn’t answer, but she smiled at him, and she seemed
calmer.

And for the next several weeks, they went to dinner and saw friends. He was an adjutant
to a general, so he was not flying missions, and she didn’t need to worry about his
dying from being in danger. He came down to Haversham to visit her one weekend, and
her parents-in-law liked him too. He was well bred and polite and as aristocratic
as they were, in an American way. And he was wonderful with Violet, and she responded
to him. Most of all, he was terrific to Marianne. But his circumstances and “real
life” worried Isabel greatly about him, and she expressed it to Charles after he left.

“What if she marries him and goes to America with him?” she said sadly.