Chapter 4
A Woman In The South Of France
A red leather bound journal tied closed rests on Victoria’s lap. She sits in her room that is bare with the exception of her bed and a trunk of clothes. Sitting on her bed she stares at the wall where the afternoon sunlight lays. The curtains of her open window rising and falling with the light breeze that enters. She can smell much of the field in the air that can be found just right outside of the village. The scent chills her nose and it reminds her of a woman she used to know. It was during a short time she spent in the South of France when she was twenty-four. Perhaps this is a good time in the day to take a walk and ruminate for a while if she is going to think on young love.
Victoria heads down stairs and before reaching the bottom she can hear Susanna and Madelief laughing with each other and parading through the house in their child sized clogs. Dutch styled wooden shoes that were clacking against the wood boarded floors with their running. Upon entering the room she looked at the clogs and can see Susanna’s were red and Madelief’s were a fair blue. Geertrudia comes inside from the back door, her arms soaking and covered in suds.
Victoria calls out to her, “Geertrudia? Let me carry some of your load. Is there enough work from Ambroos’ and Gerben’s clothes that I may help you with the wash?” Geertrudia casually dries her arms on an apron she has tied around her waist and gives her an earnest smile where her cheeks swallow her eyes up. Victoria recognizes that little Madelief shares the same qualities in her smile. Geertrudia’s presence is that of a cup filled with joy, keeping high spirits in strenuous labor. With a worked up sweat she replies, “No. Don’t you worry about any of that Miss. Victoria. I’m still so grateful for you taking care of Ambroos.”
Susanna and Madelief run up to Victoria on either side, Susanna wrapping around her arm and Madelief grabbing hold of her skirt. The girls laugh and giggle about it. Victoria gives the girls a smile to then give her attention back to Geertrudia, “I am just as grateful I was of help but please allow me to assist you somehow.”
“You are such a sister to me. How I adore you Victoria. How about a walk with the girls? They could use the play and I would be the happier to be without the hammering of clogs for a short while.”
Geertrudia starts a laugh that Victoria joins her in. Susanna jitters excited with the idea and Victoria responds, “We will take a walk through the fields then… maybe twice, for your mother’s sake.” This ignites the young girls into a jumping fit that explodes with the clatter of wooden clogs.
There is a path woven in the dirt around the fields. The red mammoth beats comfortably sit under the leaves shade. Susanna and Madelief freely frolic close to Victoria. She stares at the fields and the yellowing of the red mammoth beat leaves. Every time the wind picks up Victoria times her breath so she may breathe in deep to catch what new scent rides the draft. The air is as cooling as river water while the sun a gentle hugging warmth. The fields remind her of her time in Gevaudan, France. The wet dew that would linger on the morning world. How it would drip from every flower pedal and blade of grass. She thinks how in the evenings the bugs would join together to serenade the setting sun. There were few moments during her time there when she didn’t enjoy the weather. Even when it would rain it was always welcoming and comfortable. Petrichor rising with a powerful fragrance to be what she would call “the smell of rain.”
The way she kissed her for the first time in the rain. Victoria, smiles with a blush as she reminisces of the woman from Gevaudan. Her name was Simone Plourde. A woman raised from childhood to know only a life in the country. Her wild dark brown hair always tied up in a bun. Her cynical remarks that knew no mercy for any such person, place or object. All of life was pain and she reminded everyone to never forget it. But Victoria knew there was an untouched heart within her that was eager to be felt. A despair to finally see the energy she used for anger be used instead to love. How fierce she would love if she were ever to be sought after. Before they ever touched lips she was not sure Simone could tell that her heart beat with all an armies percussion each time they grew nearer. Nor could Victoria read Simone. There were initial moments of undeniable goodness that sparked a desire to pursue her heart but Simone was a bruiting one with much downtrodden dismay to express. If there was ever a moment displaying affection for Victoria early in their friendship, it was hidden well behind a rough facade. Victoria will never know what inspired Simone that night and why she grabbed her face to kiss her. There was a passion there that had built up so much she could feel that it was unbearable for her to refrain from any longer. She can remember Simone’s eyes when she pulled back to look at her, barely visible in the dark fraught with fear that her actions were wrong. But Victoria was a young and fearless woman. A Frankenstein who always took what they wanted in life. A young Victoria in her twenties staring back at Simone with a rising passion and excitement, contemplating pulling Simone back to her. She tells herself in her head “Death follows Frankensteins.” to then pull Simone in for an embrace. Drenched, they tightly hold each other close. Simone began to cry with alleviation that she was well received.
Victoria thinks to herself, “I had found, with an impossible luck, another soul whose kindness merited kindling. Much like that of my first young love. But then it was another woman who risked life and death with the act of a kiss. A woman who secretly stood in her own inflections outside the paths set forth for woman. I had found another… other”. It has been twenty years and in that time much reflection has transpired. I was in love with Simone. She was like the stars to me. Often hiding in the dark and overlooked in the presence of the moon but given attention they could be loved for their wonder. Regrettably, like the stars, she travels with a condemnation to one day rapidly burn out. One less light to observe in wonder as all of night will forever grow darker.”
Susanna screams! Victoria tears away from journeying through her memories, having forgotten for a short time she was taking this walk with the girls. Susanna’s giggling soon follows as the girls continue their ongoing tickle match. Victoria watches their white cotton dutch kaps bob up and down as they trot, skip and run in circles. Today their dresses are identical, like most days, with Madelief’s being about two sizes smaller. Their presence is enjoyed by Victoria and for her it does not hinder her ruminations. It cannot be summed up by having a strong tolerance for children but an ever willed appreciation for seeing a child experience what is simply, living. It was bottomless how much she adored children. She was lucky to be paying attention the way she does and has seen many times children experience the short moments that make childhood memorable. How they can travel with wonder flying wildly from one blind plan of joy to the next. No, they are of no bother and Victoria laughs off the scare. She continues her thoughts. She thinks about how crops and farmland always remind her of Simone. This is the second time in the past few days that she has found herself revisiting the memories of a past love. Maybe it has something to do with Bernardo. He has voiced quite an interest in the past few weeks. Maybe it is his presence that uncovers these thoughts. It is admirable that even though Victoria is the reason that his pursuit has been playfully drawn out and time consuming, he persists, and this makes her think that he can maintain an interest which is flattering to her. She knows that Italians and the English have plenty of differences in their customs and maybe he is afraid to stumble on one that causes disrespect. Or he is just too gentle a man to make an advancement in his pursuit of her. None the less she believes they should spend some time getting to know each other if this slow bloom is to feel healthy in its ascension- she stops. She stops walking. She stops thinking. Her first new thought to be pondered is “Is it time? Can it be time... to let love flourish once again?” she asks her self knowing she is still far from feeling as powerful a spirit such as love, for Bernardo. But these ideas of courting a partner, they lead to time spent in the presence of another giving up themselves. In those waking hours when a person makes themselves vulnerable for another, that is where love tends to grow.
Victoria and the girls soon return to the village. It is a bright day out with the aroma of frost in the northern winds making the approaching winter apparent. As they reach the entrance they can see that the village is active as many are getting their daily tasks done. Pepijn is taking a break from keeping up the stables to retrieve water from the well. Nearby, Knelis can be seen swiping his straight hair out of his eyes in front of the blacksmiths workshop. He then picks up two freshly made axes that he takes across the village entrance. Pepijn, pulls the bucket from the well and uses his hand to cup the water to drink. In doing so he loses his balance, but Knelis is there to pull him back avoiding a fall into the well. Pepijn starts laughing as he shows Knelis his gratitude with a few good pats.
Benji, the local fisherman, can be seen leaving a bundle of fish wrapped in cloth at a nearby house. Most likely he has recently returned from a fishing trip and is delivering a requested catch. Even from this distance Victoria can tell it is Benji the fisherman, not because of his height or his reddening leather skin but because he carries around a load of feeble wretched years. No one person can say he is unpleasant to deal with since he already makes himself scarce therefore its difficult to speak ill of a man who is never seen. Still, to Victoria there is much to analyze of someone who makes themselves unwelcoming. Her and the girls meet with Knelis before the house. Always such a quiet man he smiles and nods to greet them all.
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“Knelis,” Victoria asks, “Where may I find Jacop at this hour?” He raises his arm and points across the way. “The black smith shop?” Victoria asks. He smiles and nods in response. “Thank you Knelis. Girls. Follow your uncle inside.” She walks over and steps inside to see Jacop and Ignaas talking. Ignaas reaches up to dip his hands in a bucket of water that he hangs on a hook from the ceiling.
Jacop greets her with a, “Good day Victoria. How are you this afternoon?”
“Reminiscent in fact. I had a thought. If you don’t mind me pulling you away from Ignaas for a moment.”
“Not at all. Ignaas.” Jacop calls out, “I will return shortly.” The two of them step outside together. “What can I assist you with Victoria?” Jacop asks with serious inquiry.
“Back in England, when you were my families financier, I requested that you take on a task to travel to France. Do you recall?”
“I recall, yes.”
“In your travel did you ever meet with Simone Plourde.” Jacop thinks on it for a moment.
“I do not recall her presence. It was the oldest – a young lad and four other children, I believe. No Simone that I recall. Why do you ask?”
Victoria replies with a smile, “I felt I could not think on anything but the past as of today. My old friend came up in my memories and I couldn’t keep from my curiosities of how your dealings with her transpired.”
“Well I’m sure when she returned home she was happy to see you took care of her family.” Jacop reassures Victoria who nods agreeably. Jacop takes a moment to study her to see the flow of hope and mild disappointment claim her features.
“Is there anything more you wish to discuss?” he asks expectantly. Victoria’s eyes shoot up to meet him, “No, nothing more. I just never found the time to ask of her until now.”
With a stand in his voice he says,“I’ve never known you to hide your intentions away. Professionally speaking, I know it is not my place to pry – but as your oldest friend, I see you have tucked so much of yourself away in the crevices of your thoughts. You have been with my family and I for some time now, and I am all the happier to have you with us, but I gather the sense that you have changed beyond the general pains of life and experience,” he says, every word with earnest intention. Victoria recalls the day they met in Bruges a year ago; how serendipitous to have crossed paths. She had been traveling for years; living off the kindness of strangers. Trying to balance between survival and societal politeness as to not to overstay a welcome. How her body moved mechanically in this time from exhaustion so deep it had buried itself in her bones it seemed. She gave little answer and half truths when Jacop asked what came of her and her home; she should have known better then to think it was a substantial answer for him. She thinks to herself, “Ever since he found me he went on to explain that his father and mother had passed under a decade ago, and his sister met an unfortunate demise in an untimely accident. He had not seen them since he left his life in England and quit as my financier to move to the Dutch Republic in 1802 to marry Geertrudia. My father would bring me to his family home so he may discuss business with his father in my early age. I remember we shared notes on subjects in our shared studies. There were quarters we spent together in his family’s library. We grew up together, frequently audient of each other’s innocent banters. I can still remember the way his soft boyish face looks even with laborous wrinkles of his older years finely pressed into his features. While he stands in front of me his hand is lightly resting over his stomach. I can see the deepened cracks in his fingertips where the skin has dried, a testament to his long hours of work in the fields, with the villagers and in his home. And though his hands may be strong, they are no longer boyish, evident our friendship is an old one and more so that there is little that has survived from when we were young but that of whence our friendship came. We are each others eldest remaining filiar remnants. Quite the rarest of friendships to uphold.”
Victoria assures Jacop, placing her hand on his arm, “What you have observed rings some truth, Jacop, and I full heartedly apologize for any concern it may have caused you. There is a lifetime of woes that are best kept in the shadows of time, lest it take away from the second chance that has been bestowed upon me here and now. I have much to enjoy, all thanks to you and yours,” Urging him to believe all is well. Jacop gives a reluctant nod, not all too convinced that there is nothing more than the curious inquiry, but of acceptance that all is as well as she claims. “I will see you at home,” she says bidding farewell.
Continuing her walk Victoria passes through the streets and just as she is about to come upon Bernardo’s house he steps out his front door. He has in his hand his wooden tool carrying case. It only takes him a short single glance to detect her strolling by. As he closes the door behind him he yells to her, “Victoria!” She stops to wave and in seeing him come towards her with purpose she waits still for him to arrive. “Victoria. The whole of my day will be fraught with duties. I am quite glad to have been gifted with even a chance to see you.” He reaches for her hand to hold it for a moment. It is far less than a hand shake and not nearly firm enough to feel like she was being forced to simply hold his hand. Delicately Bernardo holds her hand up between them with her fingers latched over his. Bernardo continues, “Even for a glance it shall be enough of a meal to fill my heart. I pray I may not be starved of you come tomorrow.”
Victoria’s brows lift together till there is no where left for them to go. As she bashfully closes her eyes she asks, “Prey tell, what duties keep you today?” Bernardo lets go of her hand. Their fingers only having touched for a few short seconds now come apart. In that small time Victoria could feel her heart beat a hundred thousand times. She could feel a cooking warmth rise in her chest and a hot flash fill her face. The way she fought herself to not be closer to his body the way she wanted to. The amount of restraint she found in order for her self discipline to prevail was at first in need of scrounging. She felt strange having so many things occur in that small moment she touched his fingers. Perhaps, she notices, its because she had stopped breathing. As she inhales a breath she thinks to herself, “I have put soup to boil and had been done with it sooner than the length of holding his hand felt.”
Bernardo replies to her, “I must rebuild the steps in the home of Kasper and Jacintha. Their two sons have seemingly worn them down to be unbearable. I must be on my way. I will see you again soon.” Briefly she watches him walk down the street and then continues on. Her walk has led up to Ambroos’s and Gerben’s home. She sees Gerben step outside.
“Good afternoon Victoria.” Victoria waves, “I have come by to see that Ambroos is healing properly.”
“Ah yes. You are welcome to go inside and see but I cannot stay. I must hurry up to the wind mill to see Albertus. He has asked for mine and Jacops help today.” Victoria nods in understanding as he passes by and she walks inside to see Ambroos asleep with her new born daughter on their bed that is still placed in the living room. Victoria walks up to her bedside quietly. She sees they are both resting comfortably. Watching over them in reverence for the gentle nature of Ambroos nurturing her baby she decides to not disturb them. Lingering enough to bring a longing tear to her eye, she turns to leave. She wipes away the tears just as fast as they fall. There it is in her vision of life what she defines as a world half grey. To feel only half joy, feel only half warmth, smell faint all the perfumes of the world because she lives a life of wanting what she knows she can never have.
“Victoria,” Ambroos softly says. Victoria turns back and whispers, “Ambroos. I came to see how you were healing. I will come back another time.” in a quiet hoarse voice Ambroos says, “I’m healing. Gerben makes sure of my rest. He is good.” Victoria smiles at her.
“That is very good. Very good. What have you named her?”
“We have not decided on one yet. Umm… Misses?”
“Yes Ambroos?”
“I ponder quite often of you. How I wish to thank you for what you have done. How does a woman come to know what you know?”
“I learned it, my friend. A long time ago. Taught to me by other women.”
“You will have to tell me someday of what else you learned. Teach me what I ought to know. For I hope that someday, my daughter will be as incredible as you. Do tell, how does a woman become a doctor the way you have?” Victoria gives pause before answering as she realizes the truth in what she plans to say.
“I am not a doctor. Where I came from, Woman… are not allowed to study in universities. Therefore they can never obtain higher titles such as doctor.” Victoria nods while smirking of self disappointment.
“Get your rest now.” Victoria says.
“Victoria,” Ambroos raises her head to look into Victoria’s eyes with her tired ones.
“You are an incredible woman.” Victoria nods accepting her compliment be it reluctantly and tells Ambroos, “Yes, as are you. Get your rest now Ambroos. I will see you soon.”
Ambroos nestles close to her baby, not needing further convincing. Victoria allows herself only a second to admire the sight, mother and child – a sight she has seen over the years in medical studies and travels, yet now in this moment feels so foreign to observe. The tender love of a new life was nothing short of incredible.
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