Last Twilight in Paris

4. Helaine

4

Helaine

Paris, 1938

After the day they had tea in the rain, Gabriel and Helaine met in the park every morning at the same time, as if by unspoken agreement. Sometimes they sat and fed bits of bread to the ducks in the pond. Others days they would walk, Gabriel leading her through winding backstreets and charming passageways, revealing a secret Paris Helaine had never known existed. As they strolled, Gabriel and Helaine talked endlessly. When it rained or grew windy or cold, they would find shelter in a café or browse a dusty antiques shop.

One afternoon, as they walked along the quay, the smell of roasted chestnuts tickled Helaine’s nose. “Would you like some?” Gabriel asked, and he purchased a bag. They shared it, their fingers brushing as they reached for the warm pieces. A breeze blew a brackish smell across the Seine.

“Did you grow up in Paris?” she asked.

Gabriel shook his head. “My father was French, but my mother was English. I was raised in Dover and spent summers in Normandy.” Then he paused. “When I was eleven, my father died suddenly.”

“I’m so sorry.” Helaine could only imagine how difficult the loss must have been.

“After that, my mother moved us to London. She wasn’t the same, though. She took a bad turn.” Helaine was not entirely sure what that meant, but it did not seem right to ask. “I used to roam the city, sneaking into concerts and shows because I couldn’t afford a ticket.” He smiled at the memory. “Every so often I would steal some penny candy from one of the shops to take back to my younger sisters.”

“Are they still in London?”

“One is, I think. I’m not certain what became of the other. I’m afraid we’ve lost touch.”

“That’s too bad.” Impulsively, she put her hand on his arm. The gesture was forward and she started to pull back. But he took her hand and held it as they walked.

“And you?”

“I’m an only child.” But she omitted the part about her illness, not wanting him to think her flawed or weak.

Helaine worried, as the weeks of secretly meeting Gabriel on her walks continued, that her mother would realize what was going on. Surely Maman would notice the way her daughter’s eyes danced or how she skipped merrily out the door. But Helaine took care never to be gone for more than an hour. If Maman attributed the flush in Helaine’s cheeks to anything more than the cold or detected a hint of cologne on her coat when she returned, she said nothing.

One rainy day, after Helaine and Gabriel had stopped for coffee, they stepped out on the still-damp pavement. “The sun is coming out,” Gabriel remarked. Though drops still fell from the tree branches, the sky had brightened just a little.

“I wonder if there’s a rainbow,” Helaine mused, peering at the sky through the trees.

“The best place to see those is from Montmartre, with the whole city laid out below. Have you been there?”

Helaine shook her head. “Not since I was very young.” The only view of the city she had seen for many years was from her bedroom, though she could not tell him that.

“But you must.” He held his hand out. “Come with me to see.”

“Now? I’m expected at home.”

“Then meet me tonight. The evening view is even more breathtaking.”

“But I can’t…” Helaine started to protest. Gabriel brought his finger to her lips as if to silence her. The warmth of his touch, as well as the sudden, intimate gesture, stopped Helaine. Then just as quickly, he kissed her lightly. She froze, too stunned to move or respond.

Before Helaine could kiss him back, Gabriel pulled away. “I’m sorry if that was forward of me.” She did not respond. It had been forward. They had known one another for just a few weeks. Some part of her wanted to run from him. And at the same time, she was desperate for him to do it again. Helaine had read about being kissed, dreamed about it. Now it had happened to her, though, and it was everything she had imagined and more. For the first time in her life, Helaine felt like a real person with skin and blood and breath. And desire. A longing she had never felt yet somehow understood welled up inside her.

“Meet me tonight at ten,” he urged as they were about to part and go their separate ways. “Don’t answer, but think about it. We all get to choose how we spend our days—and nights,” he added. “I hope you will choose to spend this one with me.” The words reverberated as he walked away.

Helaine considered his invitation on her walk home. She would have to sneak out. Her mother, if she ever found out, would be incensed. But Helaine could no longer stay caged. A life chained was not a life; she knew that more than ever now that she had tasted the outside world. What was the point of remaining healthy if not to live?

That evening after Maman had gone to bed, Helaine slipped silently from the house, feeling almost like a criminal. Yet some selfish part of her was too happy to care. She walked to the edge of the park where Gabriel was waiting. He kissed her on the cheek, and she instantly wanted more. But he took her arm and started down the street. “It’s a bit far. Do you mind the walk?” Helaine shook her head. With him, she felt as though she could fly.

Gabriel swept her through the streets of Paris, pointing out interesting architecture, telling stories about the streets they passed. She listened, rapt. Despite his limp, he walked briskly and it was an effort to keep up. Their conversation was so lively that Helaine scarcely noticed how far they had walked.

As they neared Montmartre, though, the streets climbed upward. They ascended the steep stairs of Rue Drevet and she struggled to breathe evenly, remembering that she had only been out walking for a few weeks and was in no shape for such a climb. She tried not to think about how far they were going or how she would possibly get back. At least it would be downhill. Finally, he stopped before a tall, narrow building that seemed to slope against the one adjacent to it. “My garret is here,” he said. “Would you like to see the view?”

Remembering their kiss, Helaine considered whether he intended more by inviting her inside. Part of her wanted him to. Her mother’s disapproving look appeared in Helaine’s mind and she pushed it away. “I would like that very much.”

Gabriel opened the door and she followed him up one flight of stairs, then another and another to the very top floor. She fought to catch her breath as he let her inside. His flat was tiny, with a sloping roof and a tiny kitchenette in the corner. There did not appear to be a toilet and Helaine assumed he had to use the one they had passed on the floor below. She wondered if, despite playing for the Orchestre National, this was all he could afford.

“You live here alone?” Helaine asked.

“I have no family. It’s just me.” There was a loneliness in his voice and she thought of her own family. She had been in her house with only her mother, her father often gone. However, there was undeniably a great deal of care and love. She had often been lonely, but never alone. “But my father was a great musician and he left me this cello.” Gabriel walked to the instrument case in the corner and ran his hands over it tenderly. “I had not been interested in music while he was alive. I started to play only after he was gone, as a way to connect with him. I found that I loved music. I only wish I had discovered it sooner.”

“He would be very proud of you,” Helaine offered.

Gabriel nodded solemnly. “I started playing when I was older than many but immediately found I was talented.” He was not bragging, just stating the truth. “I outgrew my first instructor within a year. He said there was nothing else he could teach me. The second was the same. As soon as I was old enough, I returned to Paris to learn. And I spent a year at Juilliard in New York.”

“You’ve been to the States?” Helaine asked with amazement. He nodded. “What was it like?”

“Overwhelming. Brilliant. I’ll take you and show you someday.” It seemed presumptuous of him to speak of future plans when they had known each other such a short time. But Helaine didn’t mind. “After graduation, I came back. Attending the finest music school and finding work as a musician were two very different things, I quickly learned. I was accepted to the Orchestre National, but that still does not provide a livable wage. So I make my own music, and I play various engagements and teach lessons to pay the bills. But I’ve gone on too long. You came for the view.”

Then he flung open the window sash to reveal a brilliant panorama of the city below. Taking in the sea of lights, Helaine understood then why he stayed.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s spectacular,” she replied. The entire city of Paris glittered beneath them. He leaned in close, and she could feel warmth behind her, and his breath on her hair. She turned and looked up at him, their lips just inches apart. Helaine worried for a second time about the propriety of being alone here in his most intimate space. But this was exactly what she wanted. She leaned in, this time kissing him. Neither of them pulled away, their embrace deepening.

Then he hesitated. “Helaine, are you certain? We only just met a few weeks ago. I wouldn’t want to take advantage.” Helaine kissed him again.

A few seconds later, he pulled back. “Shall I play for you?” The cello, she remembered, as he walked to the corner and pulled out the instrument. He sat in a worn chair in the corner, cradling the instrument between his legs. Before happening upon the house where Gabriel was practicing that first day, Helaine had never seen anyone play a cello, or any instrument at all, other than during some brief piano lessons as a child before she became sick. Gabriel’s music wove a tapestry that seemed to float from the apartment and out across the skies of Paris. She marveled at the way he seemed to pull sounds from the instrument.

Gabriel did not seem to hold the instrument as much as cradle it in a way that was almost sensual as his long, tapered fingers ran along the strings. He looked up, still playing, and as his eyes met hers, Helaine was certain he could read her mind. Feelings that she had only imagined rose up, threatening to overwhelm her.

He finished the piece and lifted his head once more. Wordlessly, Helaine walked to him and took the instrument, leaning it gently against the wall. Then she slipped into the space where the cello had been, folding herself into his embrace. In that moment, for the very first time, she was home. They kissed one another, and this time, there was no stopping. It was the kind of love Helaine had read about in storybooks, instant and complete, as though their souls had been imprinted on one another for a thousand years.

Helaine drew him to the bed. “My love, not like this,” he protested.

“Exactly like this,” Helaine insisted. She was confused. She thought he wanted this as much as she did.

“You deserve more.”

But Helaine didn’t care. She had spent her entire life reading about such things, dreaming them. Waiting for them. Now here Gabriel was in the flesh, like some sort of hero in one of her stories. Only he was real and he wanted her. “This is more,” she whispered. “This is everything.” His willpower seemed to crumble then, and his lips were on her neck and her body. She closed her eyes, swept away by a mixture of joy and desire beyond anything that she had ever imagined.

Afterward, they lay in a tangle of limbs and strewn clothes and fell asleep without speaking. Helaine awoke sometime later. She did not immediately know where she was. Then, remembering, she grew alarmed. How much time had passed? She had to get home. It was not yet dawn, though. Her mother would be asleep.

Helaine sat up and started to gather her things to get dressed. Then she noticed Gabriel was not sleeping, but lying with his eyes open, looking out across the pinkening Paris skyline. His expression was troubled and she worried that he might regret what had happened between them. “What is it?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”

He turned toward her and took her hand. His lips parted and he uttered the two words Helaine had never expected to hear in her life.

“Marry me.”

Helaine was stunned. She did not know what to say.

“Marry you?” Helaine echoed with disbelief. “We’ve only known each other a few weeks.” Marriage had always seemed something for other people, not someone as weak and isolated as herself. Even these past few weeks, as she had been swept away by her infatuation with Gabriel, she had not dared to dream of such a thing.

Gabriel kissed her firmly on the lips. “With some things, you just know.”

Helaine’s mind whirled. Just weeks earlier, she had been isolated at home, knowing no one. Now this man was before her with open arms, asking her to share a life with him. She marveled at how her world had changed so much in an instant. And even though his words sounded ridiculous, some part of her understood.

“Darling,” he pressed, “war is coming.” Helaine had heard whisperings of which he spoke. Germany had annexed neighboring Austria and was threatening aggression against its neighbors that would surely draw France into conflict. Gabriel continued, “Everything will change and we should take this moment while we can. Tomorrow is promised to no one,” he added. “Especially not now. Let me talk to your father and ask his permission,” he offered.

“You can’t…” Helaine faltered, because how could she explain her family? Her mother constantly hovering, her father seldom present but always controlling. Both were singularly obsessed with keeping her safe—and home. In their eyes, a man sweeping her away was almost the worst thing that could happen.

“Am I so unlikable?” he joked, feigning hurt.

“No, of course not. But my parents are difficult.”

“Your parents are very protective,” he offered. “It’s understandable, as you’ve said, being the only child.”

“It isn’t that.” Helaine considered once more telling Gabriel about her illness but decided against it. He was the first person ever to see her as whole and unbroken, and she was desperate to hold on to that for as long as she could.

“Then I shall ask only you.” He took her hands in his and gazed at her deeply, his eyes two cerulean pools. “Will you be my wife?”

Helaine wanted to say yes. She could see a life with Gabriel and all of its potential for joy.

But she knew it could never be. Even if he knew the truth about her, they would always have their differences. Gabriel was undoubtedly gifted, but he was a struggling artist, and he wasn’t Jewish. Though Helaine did not mind these things in the slightest, she knew that her family would never accept him or give them their blessing.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” Tears flooded Helaine’s eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks.

“Why not?”

Helaine hesitated. He had to know the whole truth now in order to understand why it would be so very hard for her parents to let go. “You see, I was very ill as a child, and my parents, well, they kept me home so that I would not get sick again.”

“All of the time?”

“Yes, until very recently.” Describing her childhood, Helaine felt like an oddity in a museum.

“I’m sorry. That must have been dreadful.”

“In some ways, yes. They meant only the best, but it was very hard. Anyway, to tell them now that I want to marry someone I’ve only just met…they would forbid it.”

“But, Helaine, it’s your life.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.” Overwhelmed, she stood, finished dressing and gathered her things. “You should forget me.” She kissed him, her tears falling between their lips. Then she turned and ran from his flat.

Helaine fled down the stairs, trying to block the sound of Gabriel calling her name from her ears. She reached the darkened street and began to run, turning this way and that, trying to retrace the route they had taken in reverse, going this time from Montmartre to the city center. She got lost, though, and a few minutes later, she had to stop to catch her breath under a yellow streetlight. She looked back over her shoulder, half hoping Gabriel had come after her. But the pavement behind her was empty and still.

Forty minutes later, Helaine reached her house. She prayed that her mother was asleep and that she might slip in undetected. However, in the grand foyer, she noticed a black umbrella in the stand that had not been there when she left. Papa. Helaine questioned if his return was unexpected. Then remembering how her mother seemed more tense the day before, she knew that it was not. Maman always cooked and cleaned more fiercely than usual before Helaine’s father came home, like preparing for inspection by a general. It was as if she thought that a perfect house and some delicious treats might magically transform them back to the family of yesteryear, before all of the troubles began.

Steeling herself, Helaine started up the stairs into the sitting room. “Hello,” she said, trying to sound natural, as though there was nothing at all odd about her being out, or coming home so late.

“Where were you?” Papa roared, his normally kind face a mixture of concern and anger.

Who are you to ask? Helaine wanted to retort. You who are never here. Her mother’s concern made sense, but Papa’s seemed unearned. Of course, Helaine did not dare. She searched for an explanation that would make her coming home this late all right. “Just out for a walk,” Helaine replied lamely at last. She looked to Maman for some sort of assistance, but her mother’s eyes were cast downward.

“A walk? You’ve been out all night.” Helaine’s father turned to her mother. “You knew about this?”

“Helaine wanted to go outside one morning,” Maman explained meekly.

“You let her go out? By herself?”

“It was just a few times for a short while.”

Before Helaine’s father could berate either of them further, there was a knock at the door. He went to answer it, his expression perplexed. Who could be calling unannounced at such an hour? Knowing, a sense of dread formed in the pit of Helaine’s stomach. Still, as she watched from the top of the stairs, she was stunned by the sight below.

There, in the doorway to their home, stood Gabriel.

“Yes?” Helaine’s father said, trying to be polite over his surprise and irritation at being disturbed. People did not visit unannounced, and certainly not in the middle of the night. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

Helaine froze, wishing she could melt into the floor. Gabriel had come for her. “I apologize for calling at such an hour,” Gabriel began politely. Then, seeing Papa’s glowering expression, Gabriel squared his shoulders. “My name is Gabriel Lemarque and I’ve come to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

Helaine stared at him in disbelief. Even after she had run away, Gabriel still wanted her. He must have followed her home. And he was courageous enough to come to their grand house and ask her imposing father. Papa looked aghast. “Helaine? But you don’t even know her! How could you possibly?” He turned to Helaine, as if seeking confirmation of this. Then, taking in Helaine’s eyes, he seemed to understand all that had transpired in his absence.

“I do know him, Papa.” Helaine walked down the steps to the foyer, where they both stood. If Gabriel could be brave, then so could she. Helaine reached around her father and took Gabriel’s hand and urged him through the doorway, into their home. “And yes, I want to marry him.” Helaine realized as she said this last part how true the words were.

“You do?” Gabriel’s eyes met Helaine’s and held them. She nodded.

“Impossible!” Papa thundered. He turned to Gabriel. “You need to leave now.”

But Gabriel remained, feet planted, firmly by Helaine’s side. “Papa, Gabriel and I have feelings for each other,” Helaine offered.

“How long have you even known one another?” Papa demanded.

“Only a short time, but…”

“We are in love,” Gabriel finished for her, his voice unabashed. Hearing the words for the first time, Helaine knew that she felt the same.

“Ridiculous!” Helaine’s father turned to her mother, who had come down to the foyer as well. “Did you know?” Maman shook her head, too astonished to speak. Her eyes were wide with puzzlement. “But how did you even meet?”

“I passed by Gabriel’s studio when I was walking. He’s a cellist.”

“A musician?” Papa’s expression grew even darker. He turned to Helaine’s mother. “You see what came of letting her go outside?” Helaine could see Maman’s regret that she had let Helaine take walks in the morning and that this was what it had wrought.

Watching her mother’s eyes flicker with fear, Helaine felt guilty at the trouble she had caused for her. Helaine knew then that fear had kept her mother every bit as much of a prisoner as the walls of her childhood home had kept Helaine herself. “Papa, this is not her fault! I am eighteen, no longer a child. I want to live my life like a normal person.”

“But with your condition, you are not like other people.” Helaine’s father turned to Gabriel. “She’s sick. Didn’t she tell you?”

“ Was sick,” Helaine countered. “And I did tell him. As I said earlier, Gabriel, I’m fine now.” Helaine worried again that Gabriel would not want her. She had been a burden her whole life. Who would want to take that on? She braced herself, preparing for him to turn and go.

Instead, Gabriel moved closer. “Thank God you are well.” His voice was full with relief.

See , Helaine said silently, looking at her father with defiance. Not everyone sees me as broken.

But her father would not be placated. “Helaine, he’s a musician.” The last word came out with disdain. “How will he support you?”

“Gabriel is an acclaimed cellist. He plays with the Orchestre National in the finest halls of Europe.”

“Bah!” Helaine’s father waved his hand.

“We ask nothing of you, sir,” Gabriel said, a quiet dignity in his voice. “We will make our own way.”

Ignoring him, Papa spoke again to Helaine. “Surely you can’t mean to give up all of this for him?” That, Helaine realized, was exactly what she meant to do. There was more joy in sharing Gabriel’s tiny apartment and the freedom of the city than in this enormous, cold house where she felt so caged.

“Is he even Jewish?” Papa demanded.

Helaine hesitated. “No, monsieur, I am not,” Gabriel replied. For Papa, this was another strike against him.

“I’m going to marry him, Papa,” Helaine replied firmly. “We would like your blessing.”

“Troubles are coming,” Papa said, his voice ominous. “This is no time for rash decisions.”

“I know all about Hitler and the rise of fascism,” Helaine retorted.

Her father looked surprised. Helaine knew he did not think she was aware of such things. Only then did he seem to realize how deep her connection to the outside world had become. He turned to Maman with a look of recrimination on his face. “I trusted you to keep her safe.”

“Safe and hidden are not the same thing,” Helaine interjected. “I want to see the world.” Suddenly, Helaine was angry as well. They had spent their whole lives playing at the charade her par ents had created. Now she had something real and true and good for the first time in her life, and they were blaming her for it. Why couldn’t they be happy for her? “Maybe you would have known that if you were ever here.”

“Helaine,” her mother warned sternly, “you won’t be disrespectful.”

Helaine looked at her mother with disbelief. Papa had betrayed her over and over. Was she really standing up for him? Through it all, her mother still loved him. And even in their most painful moment, Helaine knew that her father loved her and that his anger came from a place of concern. Helaine softened. “Papa, please. I don’t want to quarrel. But I love Gabriel and I will be marrying him.”

Papa’s expression grew angrier. Love or no, he was a powerful man and not accustomed to being crossed like this. “Then you will do it without my blessing.” He faced Gabriel. “Get out of my house. And you—” he turned back to me “—will stay here.”

Gabriel gave Helaine a long, sorrowful look. “I’m sorry.” He turned to go.

“Wait!” Helaine cried. Then she hesitated, feeling all eyes on her. Her entire future seemed to hang in the balance of what she did next. Helaine’s spine straightened. “If he goes, I go, too.”

Helaine expected her father to force her to stay, or at least forbid her once more from leaving. She drew herself up to her full height of five feet two inches, but to her surprise, he seemed to crumble. “Then go.” Her father turned slowly, painfully away. Despite all of the acrimony between them, Helaine’s heart broke.

“Darling, please,” Helaine’s mother said, pleading in vain with her husband to show reason and reconsider. “Helaine is our daughter, our only child.” Helaine’s mother put her hand on Papa’s arm as he passed her going up the stairs, but he shook it off. Helaine hoped that her mother might protest and stand up to him. But she had never had that kind of strength. Instead, she pleaded with Helaine now, tears streaming down her face. “Laina, don’t go.”

Looking around the house, Helaine felt a sense of guilt. Her mother had undoubtedly stayed all of these years for her. Now she stood alone. Don’t leave me , her face seemed to say. With Helaine gone and Papa away so much, she would be truly by herself. But she could accept Helaine and Gabriel and choose to be part of their lives. She was siding with Helaine’s father despite his years of betrayal—and it left Helaine with no other choice.

Helaine longed to have Maman wrap her in her embrace one more time, to bury her nose in her mother’s neck and breathe her sweet smell. Helaine did not want to lose her family. But there was no choice. Her father was not going to relent. And if she let Gabriel walk out that door without her, Helaine would spend her whole life a prisoner, alone.

“I’m sorry,” Helaine said to her mother. Then she turned to Gabriel. “Wait here.”

Helaine ran up the stairs and into her room one last time before anyone could stop her. Her childhood things screamed at her, begging to be taken. But there wasn’t time to properly pack. She grabbed a change of clothing and some toiletries and stuffed them in a bag. Helaine’s hand rose instinctively to her neck, where she wore a half-heart locket. Helaine’s grandmother had sent it to her during her childhood illness. Helaine had worn one half and her grandmother had worn the other, creating a kind of connection between them when they could not see one another. After her grandmother’s death, Maman had given Helaine the second half of the necklace. She took the second half of her grandmother’s locket now and put them in her pocket.

Then, steeling herself, Helaine turned and left the room. She walked downstairs to the foyer. Maman was gone and only Gabriel awaited. She started to follow him out the door. Then something on the low table in the foyer caught her eye. There were several francs that had not been there previously. “Your mother left that,” Gabriel said in a low voice. “I think she wanted you to take it.”

Tears sprang into Helaine’s eyes. Her mother was trying to help her still, in whatever small way she could. Helaine pocketed the money, then followed Gabriel outside. She thought her mother might reappear and beg her to reconsider. But the street was silent behind them, except for the echoing of their footsteps.

When they reached the corner, Helaine looked back at the house. She saw her mother peeking through the curtains, her expression sad yet hopeful for Helaine. She raised her hand and blew a kiss before disappearing behind the curtains.

Gabriel turned to Helaine and took her hand. “Are you certain?” His eyes searched her face.

“Yes.” Helaine worried that he was having second thoughts. “You?”

“Of course…it’s just that you are giving up so much.” He gestured toward the grand house behind her. “How can my world possibly be enough?”

It was not just enough. It was everything. Still, Helaine hesitated.

“I know I don’t have much to give,” Gabriel added.

“It isn’t that,” she replied quickly. Truly it wasn’t. Gabriel’s world of music and laughter felt so much richer than her staid home. Still, Helaine could not start a life with him with secrets between them. “There’s one thing I have to tell you, though. The illness when I was young, it left me unable to have children. I wanted you to know, in case you were hoping for a family.”

“That’s it?” he asked. She nodded. “So you had a childhood illness.” The way he described it made it sound like a minor event in her past, not something that had defined nearly two decades of her life. “I have a limp. I fell off my bicycle when I was nine and broke my leg,” he said, offering the answer to a question she had been curious about but had not dared to ask. “It never healed properly. We are both imperfectly perfect for each other.” Gabriel took both of Helaine’s hands in his and smiled broadly. “Did you think I would love you less? Because that would never happen. My forever is forever.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“I understand. Let’s have no more secrets, though.”

“I promise.” Helaine threw herself into his arms.

When they broke apart, Helaine looked back, suddenly sad. The last thing she wanted in this world was to be estranged from her family, kicked out from the only home she had ever known.

No, that was the second to last thing she wanted. The last thing was to remain alone and a prisoner in her parents’ house.

Helaine took one last look at the only home she had ever known and left.