Page 16 of One Last Goodbye

“So there have been other Hugos?”

“Actually, I don’t think Hugo is among the number of Catherine’s conquests.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Really? They sure behave as though they’re involved.”

“No doubt Hugo wishes they were,” she replies, “as for Catherine’s behavior, that’s just how the fashion world works. The touching and petting and everything. It’s just what people in fashion do. Perhaps a psychologist could explain why, but Catherine treats all of her friends in the fashion industry that way—women and men.”

“So Hugo is in fashion.”

“Oh yes. He manages fashion models. He was her manager for many years.”

“I see. I’m afraid you’ve failed to convince me that they’re not involved.”

She shrugged. “They might be. I’m only saying I don’t think so. Hugo isn’t Catherine’s type.”

“What is Catherine’s type?”

“Men who are noticeably less attractive than she is.”

My brow furrows. “Really? Even when they’re not seen publicly?”

“But she and Hugoareseen publicly. Hugo has allowed himself to age naturally, so perhaps he doesn’t seem so attractiveas he did in his younger days, but if you look at photos of him twenty years ago, you’ll understand why Catherine wouldn’t have dated him.”

“Appearances are that important to her?”

Sophie smiles patiently. “Oh, Mary. In the fashion world, appearances areeverything.That is why Catherine resents Frederick’s affairs. She doesn’t care one whit that she doesn’t satisfy him. She cares that her reputation will be damaged if people learn that her husband philanders.”

“Do they not love each other at all?” I ask in amazement.

Sophie sighs. “Love means something different to them. If you asked them if they loved each other, they would say of course they do. And they would mean it. But…” She sighed again. “It’s all about possession to them. About ownership. Frederick wanted Catherine because she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Having her would mean he was the man who possessed the most beautiful woman on Earth. Catherine wanted Frederick because she wanted to be a more valuable prize than any of the other women he admired. He was a known rake in the fashion world, and she made him hers.

“They’re not happy, of course. When you define happiness by what you possess, you can never possess enough. When you define your worth by how it compares to others, you never stop comparing yourself, and you never stop finding ways to come up short.”

“It’s just so terrible for the children,” I lament. “They want so much to lead normal lives, but they aren’t allowed to.”

“Of course not. They will never lead a normal life.”

She says this as though she’s surprised I would imagine it any other way. I feel a touch of anger settle over me when I say, “They will. If I have to spirit them away from here, they will.”

Sophie smiles sadly at me. “You have a good heart, Mary. I pray it won’t be hardened by your time with us.”

The conversation turns to small talk. Perhaps we both sense that we’ve exhausted our emotional reserves and avoid dwelling on a topic that so drains both of us.

I think about the revelations I’ve received today. The family’s sickness makes more and more sense the more I learn who Frederick and Catherine really are.

And the more I know, the greater my sense of dread. The wealthy can get away with their hedonism for a while, but not forever. Eventually, their actions catch up to them.

And when they suffer, they don’t suffer alone.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The rest of the week progresses smoothly. I gradually introduce a new routine to the children. On Wednesday, we open with a short reading then a discussion. Since Ethan is readingA Tale of Two Cities, I select that for the discussion.

On Thursday, I include a social studies lesson after lunch. The children aren’t enthuses to the idea of school in the afternoon, but they relent when they see I won’t budge.

On Friday, we separate each subject in their pamphlet. I give a short lesson, answer questions, then issue the homework for each subject. This carries our day to two hours after lunch, and when I warn them that Monday will begin the new, full curriculum, they groan.

Still, their protests are refreshing, especially Ethan’s. The more involved I am, the more like children they become. Olivia, perhaps, is a bit too childish for a young woman of sixteen, but I can’t imagine she’s had many chances, so for the time being, I tolerate her immaturity. Both of them seem to like me, and that’s what really matters.

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