Page 63 of Mrs. Endicott's Splendid Adventure

Nico started fishing again. He told Ellie he wasn’t good at doing nothing and missed the sea. He also bought a new speedboat, expecting the return of summer visitors, and demonstrated it to Ellie. “What do you think? Better than the last one?”

“Do you think we could go over to the island?” she asked. “I wonder if the abbot is back there yet? Don’t you think he would have written to us? I do hope he survived and regained his strength.”

“At least the monks will know,” Nico said. He turned the boat towards the island, and they sped forward. As they came up the steps, a monk threw down his gardening rake and hurried towards them.

“What do you want here?” he called. “No visitors except on the first Sunday of the month.”

“We’ve come to see the abbot,” Ellie said. “Abbot Gerard?”

The monk shook his head. “It is now Abbot Bernard,” he said.

“What happened to your last abbot?” Nico asked.

“We heard he almost died and was very sick. Abbot Bernard will know more. Was Abbot Gerard a relative?”

“A dear friend,” Ellie said.

“Ah. I see. Please follow me.”

He hadn’t gone far when they saw a large man striding towards them. He had a round, bald head and an impressive paunch under his black habit. “What is this, Brother Matthieu? Who are these people?”

“Visitors asking about Abbot Gerard, Father Abbot.”

The big man reached them, staring at them with such dislike that Ellie shrank closer to Nico.

“We were good friends of Abbot Gerard,” she said. “My husband and Abbot Gerard were part of a team that transported Jewish men to safety. Nicolas and the abbot were both shot and left for dead, but Nicolas managed to bring them both to shore in Corsica, as I’m sure you’ve heard.”

“I did hear and do not approve. His reckless acts put the whole abbey at risk,” he said.

Ellie wanted to say that his acts saved some good men and she was sure Jesus would have approved, but she swallowed back the words. “Do you know where he is now?” Ellie asked. “We should like to write to him.”

“When I last heard, he had been transported to the motherhouse. They will know. Now, it is almost time for Compline. I bid you good day. Show these people back to their boat, brother, and please do not disturb our peace again.”

“I hope the monks appreciate what they have now,” Nico said as he helped Ellie back into the boat. Ellie looked back at the island as they sped away. She would now never need to go there again.

They returned home and Ellie wrote to the motherhouse. She received a reply almost immediately:

My dear Ellie,

I can’t tell you what a joy it was to receive your letter and to know that you and Nico are well and happy.

He talked of you so frequently when we lay in hospital.

I could see how fond he was of you. I, too, thought of you often and prayed for you daily.

I have finally recovered enough to return to my order, although not to my former position.

It is thought that I would lack the stamina to run the show, as they say.

Instead they want me to stay on here as librarian, a quiet and peaceful existence until one day I am back to full strength.

However ... that is not what I want. I have shut myself away from the world for long enough.

I began to see, when I lay in the hospital bed, that I had been called to the priesthood not to make liqueurs and minister to pious young men but to make the world a better place.

So at the end of the month I am leaving the order and volunteering as a priest at a refugee camp in Germany.

It’s in a former concentration camp. Other volunteers are already planting flowers and trees, painting the buildings, to make it a welcoming place for those who have nowhere to go.

I hope you might visit us sometime. I will continue to pray for you both.

Your friend,

Gerard

Ellie held the letter to her and fought back tears.

“You cared about him, didn’t you?” Nico asked.

“Very much. I always thought he was the sort of man I’d like to have married. Gentle, studious, good sense of humour ...”

“Instead you married a loud fisherman.” Nico laughed.

“And I have no regrets,” she said.

Mr Tommy was finally honoured in a ceremony in Marseille along with Nico and other freedom fighters and posthumously given a Croix de Guerre by the French government.

The ceremony was held on a brisk and breezy day in March on the waterfront.

A bell was rung as each name was called and flowers were placed on the memorial.

Clive went up to lay flowers for Tommy, a proud, defiant look on his face.

He told Ellie he had started painting again—big, dark, swirling canvases that were getting a lot of attention.

One of his canvases was chosen to be hung in the newly renovated cathedral.

After the ceremony, at which he received Tommy’s medals, he moved away to join an artist’s colony down the coast. “I’ll miss you,” he said as he hugged Ellie.

“You’ve been a sister to me. But I have to be brave enough to start a new life. ”

Ellie hugged him, promising to come and visit soon.

Madame Barbou had gone down to the village to visit friends, and Ellie was alone in the house one day when she was alerted by a motor horn. She went outside to see the gate being opened and a taxi there. The driver poked his head out of the window.

“Visitor for Villa Gloriosa,” he said. “This is it?”

“It is.” Ellie waited. A man got out of the taxi. He was bald, with sagging cheeks, and walked with a stooping gait.

“Lionel?” Ellie called as she recognized him. “What a surprise. What are you doing here? You hate abroad, remember?”

“I came to see how you were, if you were all right,” he said. He looked around him. “I was concerned about you, Ellie.”

“I’m doing very well, thank you,” Ellie replied, watching him walk towards her.

He looked around. “Colin said you lived in an impressive house, and you certainly do.”

“Come inside,” she said. “Are you planning to stay nearby or just passing through?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he said. “I took the train to Marseille. Horrible place. Dirty. Full of foreigners.”

Ellie tried not to smile. They reached the villa, and she opened the door for him to enter the foyer.

“I must say you’re looking awfully well, Ellie,” he said. “Obviously, you had it much better than we did in England. Bombed night and day.”

“I hardly think the Germans would have wasted their bombs on Surrey,” Ellie said.

“Well, not as bad as London, obviously, but the occasional one fell not too far away. And rationing, of course. We’re still rationed, you know.

Tiny portion of meat for a week. Haven’t seen a banana in years.

Can’t get my decent Scotch. It’s been hell.

But I suppose you were nicely out of it down here. ”

“We had our share,” she said.

She installed him in the sitting room and went to make him a glass of fresh lemonade. When she came back, she found him out on the terrace, looking out across the bay.

“This view is magnificent. How can you afford to rent something like this? Your monthly allowance wasn’t that big.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she said. “Luckily I don’t need to pay rent any more because I own it.”

“How can that be?” he asked. “Did you sell the London flat?”

“I didn’t need to,” she said. “I just heard from my solicitor in England, and the rent has been accumulating nicely during the war years. I’m going to use it to buy a couple of properties here. There will be more need for tourism now.”

“Ellie.” He said the word firmly, making her stop and look at him.

“Are you really happy here? In this place? With these people? How can you want to live amongst foreigners?” He took a deep breath.

“Ellie, I really came to bring you home. I want you back. I miss you. Goddammit, it’s never been the same since you went away. Nothing was ever right.”

“What about Michelle?” she asked.

“There is no more Michelle,” he said. “She got bored with me quite quickly, I think. Anyway, she met a Yank and she’s gone off to America with him.

It never really worked. She was useless as a housekeeper, didn’t know how to cook properly.

Lots of foreign muck like spaghetti. The place was a mess, and I was always in a bad mood because I could never find anything.

I realize now that I made a big mistake in marrying her.

I suppose I was flattered that such a bright young thing could be interested in me. ”

“There was supposed to be a baby,” Ellie said.

“Ah yes. The baby. She made a mistake. She never was very regular, she said, so she jumped to conclusions.”

“She jumped at the chance to marry someone rich, Lionel,” Ellie replied.

“Anyway, it was a mistake, and I let you down. I don’t think I can forgive myself. So what do you say, Ellie? Shall we give it another chance? You could keep on this place for summer holidays if you like. I wouldn’t mind if you went away for a month.”

Ellie gave him a sweet smile. “I’m sorry, Lionel. But I like it here. I’m happy here. And besides, I’m already married.”

“You married a Frenchman?”

“I did,” she said.

“This is his villa, then?”

“It is.”

“Ah. So he’s an aristocrat. Not a local person.”

“He’s both. He’s the son of a duke but was raised by a fisherman. His father is dead, but his mother lives here with us. And before you ask, we are very happy.” She looked up as she heard steps coming up from the dock. “Ah. Here he is now.”

Nico emerged from the steps on to the terrace. His hair was windswept, he was wearing old blue denims, and he was carrying a large ray. “Look what I caught,” he called out. “We’ll be feasting tonight.” He stopped when he saw the visitor.

“This is my former husband,” she said in French, then added in English. “Lionel, I’d like you to meet Nicolas Barbou, my husband.”

Nico went to shake hands, then realized he was still holding a fish. “How do you do?” he said in English. “Welcome to our home.”

“Well, thank you,” Lionel replied in a clipped voice. “Nice place you have here.”

“That is because my wife made it beautiful like this,” Nico replied, giving Ellie a beaming smile. “She made this house into what you see.”

“I did,” Ellie agreed. “It was a ruin when I took it over. It’s been a labour of love.”

“You always did have the knack of making a place beautiful,” Lionel said. “Our home always looked just perfect.”

“So will you stay the night, Lionel?” Ellie asked. “I can make up a bed for you in the guest room.”

“No, thank you,” he replied stiffly. “I should be getting back, then. Damn. I let that taxi go. Do you have a way of calling another?”

“We can drive you into Marseille,” Ellie said, “Or better still, Nico can take you in the speedboat. It’s a lovely ride.” She switched to French in case he hadn’t understood.

He nodded. “D’accord.”

“Well, that’s jolly kind of you,” Lionel said.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay in the village?” Ellie asked. “There’s a nice little pension run by English people, and the bar cooks good food.”

“Presumably laden with garlic,” Lionel said. “No, I think I’ll be going back, then. It was foolish of me to come. I should have realized an attractive woman like you would be snapped up. My mistake. I’ll be regretting it for the rest of my life.”

“Look, at least stay and have a meal with us,” Ellie said. “Lunch on the terrace. I’ll make sure there’s no garlic.”

“No. I ought to go. Too painful,” he said.

“I suppose it’s gradually dawning on me what lies ahead.

It was bad enough during the war, but now that Michelle has gone, I’m rattling around in that big house.

You can’t get household help for love or money.

Nobody wants that sort of job since the war.

I eat in the club most of the time, but I’m sixty-two.

Going to retire soon. And then what? What on earth will I do with myself? ”

“I’ve got a nice little flat in Knightsbridge,” Ellie said. “If my tenant moves out, you can use that. It’s only one bedroom, but you won’t be entertaining much, will you? And it’s quite convenient for Harrods.”

She saw him wince as he remembered the wording he had used for her, and immediately felt bad. “Come on, Lionel. I’ll walk with you down to the boat. Nico has a lovely new speedboat at our dock.”

He followed her gingerly down the steps to the little harbour below. The new boat bobbed at its mooring, its polished teak gleaming in the sunlight. Nico helped him climb in.

“Are you coming, too?” Lionel asked.

“No, I think I’ll leave you men to it,” Ellie said.

“Why don’t you take him instead?” Nico asked her in French, pausing on the quayside, giving her a knowing grin. “Show him how well it handles.”

“All right.” Ellie returned the smile, accepted the challenge and clambered aboard.

Lionel looked at her, then at Nico on the dock, as the latter started to unwind the ropes. “Your husband is not coming?”

“No. He thinks it’s better that I drive you.”

“You? You know how to handle a speedboat like this? Are you sure? Are you qualified to do it?”

“Oh yes, Lionel,” she replied. “You’d be amazed at the things I can do now. So hold on tight.” She steered the boat away from its mooring into open sea, then she pulled back to full throttle. The boat surged forwards with a roar, flinging Lionel against his seat. Ellie allowed herself a big smile.