She laughs again, as she did with Leo.
After all, that is exactly what she is.
It is an embarrassing relief when the maid shows her in,and after a short while, Claudine joins her where she sits in the drawing room. She leans down to kiss Cecilia’s cheeks in a gesture that seems directly copied from Lydia; it fits unnaturally with her stiff posture.
‘Cecilia, what a surprise.’
Claudine does not sit. There is no offer of tea.
‘I apologise. I should not have come without warning.’
‘Don’t be silly – you are always welcome here,’ says Claudine, but there is no trace of warmth behind the words. ‘How can we help?’
Cecilia does not know if she should stand, too, or if that would be too strange. Is it stranger to stay sitting with Claudine looking down at her like she is a child in a schoolroom?
Oh God – should she mention the governess position? No – no – she cannot bear it. She will not.
‘I came to see if you had a forwarding address for Odette. I would like to write to her more fully.’
Claudine’s expression sours. ‘You needn’t worry about her at a time like this. Think of your own situation. I am sure there must be much for you to consider.’
Cecilia ignores the bait. ‘Only, I would like to ask her when she will come home?’
There is a flicker of irritation. ‘Did George not speak to you?’
‘No.’
Claudine sighs. ‘I will have to tell you plainly, and I’m afraid this will upset you, but I can assure you this causes George and me far more distress than you. Odette will not be coming back. Not for some time.’
A flush of panic moves through Cecilia. ‘I don’t understand. Why not?’
‘Odette is notwell. That is abundantly clear. Her father and I came to the difficult decision that she would be better cared for somewhere that can fully meet her needs.’
‘Do you mean a—’
‘It is not the kind of place you are imagining. It is for the best. The girl is not stable, she could not control herself.’
The panic rises and rises, so huge and featureless and monolithic that Cecilia cannot see its edges. It is as though she is lost within it, swallowed up whole like an insect moving through a blank sky.
‘I see,’ she says, and she does not know where the words have come from.
Odette is gone.Odette is gone.
The world is split open. Her mother’s death struck the blow that cracked the ice, and now Odette’s departure has splintered it all into drifting fragments.
‘Did she want to go?’
Claudine laughs stiffly. ‘What a strange question.’
‘Please. Tell me where Odette is,’ urges Cecilia. ‘I promise I will take her somewhere else, somewhere far away, you needn’t send her to a – a—’ The word is too terrifying to speak. ‘I will make sure we never bother you again.’
‘I would suggest you take a moment to gather yourself,’ says Claudine, expression carefully schooled into neutrality.
‘No – I don’t think I will.’ It is unlike her. But what would it be to be like herself now? Who is she? ‘Tell me where Odette is.’
Claudine ignores her. ‘Now, your brother has spoken to me of your situation, and I would be more than happy to write to a few of my acquaintances to find you a position.’
Odette was right. That is the only solution to this. Odette was right about Claudine and Lydia, so Claudine has exiled her. Cecilia laughs again. Of course she was right. She knew everything, and such knowledge drove her from her mind.
