Story Snip from Larksong: Chapter 12, Johnny Marr, and the Rath Museum

hapter 12!

Larksong is set in Montreal, July 1914.

In chapter 1, Alice, after her grandmother's funeral, arrived at the family cottage to take care of her grandmother's aviary, only to find that her parents had already leased the cottage to another family for the summer.

The only way she could have one more summer in her favourite place was to surreptitiously take on the role of governess to the two young girls...

In chapter 2, we met George, laid up at the hospital with a broken leg. Instead of joining his friends on a Grand Tour of Europe, he's being sent off to recuperate at a rented cottage in the country...

In chapter 3, we returned to Alice's point of view, and saw her bonding with George's younger sisters. Then she got a surprise -- George was arriving at the cottage that very day!

In chapter 4, we had a hint that Alice finds George attractive and interesting -- but also unbearably rude.

In chapter 5, they had their first argument.

In chapter 6, they argued once more, but the stakes were higher: war is on the horizon.

In chapter 7, George attempted a rapprochement. The chapter ended with him asking, "Why don't we both go sit in the parlour?"

In chapter 8, Alice had some feelings stirring...

In chapter 9, during their first evening together, they began to suss each other out over a card game.

In chapter 10, we reached the end of the evening, with harsh words from George, but a détente of sorts before they went their separate ways for the night.

In chapter 11, we started the next morning in George's point of view, with his dawning realization of his attraction to Alice.

In chapter 12, we see that this realization does not lead to greater friendliness...

Alice had kept warning the girls they mustn't expect to splurge in such a willy-nilly fashion every time she took them down to the village, but she knew they did not take her seriously. Already on the return they'd been planning purchases for the next trip. How could they imagine she was in earnest when she'd racked up a bill at every shop? They'd gone from Beaudoin's dry goods all the way down Main Street to Deraiche's drugstore, where they'd shared a banana split and downed a sarsaparilla each.

It had been short work to locate the true governess' address with the aid of the post office's directory, while the girls were still slurping their sarsaparilla, and to send a telegram cancelling the job but promising a small renumeration. She'd cabled her parents as well, indicating that she'd determined it would be easier to handle transactions regarding the birds from the house, and cashed a cheque at the bank. George––or James––would presumably reimburse her at some point, for purchases made for what was now their rented house and kitchen.

Lucy and Eleanor seemed to think it delightful that their governess was somehow acquainted with every shopkeeper, and why wouldn't they? After all, it earned them a treat at nearly every establishment. Fortunately, the goodies distracted them from overhearing too much of the condolences Alice received and the appropriate words she murmured in reply. Courtesy, not to question her overmuch while she was grieving, kept the villagers from asking too many queries about the girls, and they returned home with no cracks in Alice's identity.

She was hard put to it to keep the girls from gobbling at once all the fudge and pickles and nuts they'd been gifted. She'd get no work out of them until they'd settled down a bit, so after a hasty luncheon, she ordered them upstairs for what she called quiet time, saving Eleanor's older-sister feelings by refraining from using the word naptime but hoping that Lucy, at least, would sleep for a little while.

She'd already made certain that the shelf in their room held age-appropriate books, removing, among others, Fanny Hill, to the parlour shelf. She went up to check on them after her own quick meal and was pleased to see Lucy drowsing with a volume of Beatrix Potter in hand, and Eleanor engrossed in Alice's childhood copy of Heidi.

That done, and the shopping put away, and dinner plans arranged with Elsie, she took a cup of tea out onto the porch, feeling rather virtuous.

She'd successfully carried out her duties as governess for a full afternoon, evening, and morning now. At this hour, with the high sun lending a haze and quietness to the afternoon, the prospect of filling that role for the rest of the summer did not daunt her. She grinned at her own cleverness in organising all of these details in less than a day, despite the sadness inherent in the thought that Granny's birds would soon be gone out of her family for good, and quite possibly the house as well, if she could not convince her parents of its value. Easing back against the cushions, she let her thoughts wander.

If her mind took the opportunity to suddenly unleash a cascade of images of George, well, perhaps she might be permitted to indulge for a few moments. Dwell on memories of his elegant fingers deftly shuffling the cards. Of his mouth, lips pursed, sipping at his drink. Of the warmth in his eyes now and again, as his gaze landed on her...

"Why the long face?" George's voice carried up the path as he made his way over from the garden.

"Excuse me?" Perhaps her expression had turned slightly moon-faced. Still, George seemed to grow ruder by the minute! There was only so much allowance she might make for his invalid state.

Only he did look dashing, with the top two buttons of his shirt undone, exposing his tanned neck, and with strong arms propelling him forward on his crutches at almost walking speed.

He wore the same trousers as the day before, fawn-coloured and well-fitted on his good leg. The other trouser leg had been split up to the thigh to accommodate his cast, with the two ends pinned just above his shoeless foot, keeping them from flapping.

Her own cast had been easier to manage, as it had reached only to her knee–and skirts were more accommodating of broken legs.

"And now you're grinning," he said, looking up at her from the bottom step. "First a crumpled face, then a grin. You remind me of Lucy after she's decided it's not worth throwing a tantrum over whatever it is she wants at the time."

She decided not to call attention to the fact that he seemed to be enamoured of closely watching her face. Instead, she retorted, "What of your own expression? If you don't stop gritting your teeth as you walk, your features will stick that way."

All humour vanished from his face then, and he scowled and turned aside. "That's an old wives' tale. Fetch Elsie for me, will you? I could do with a cup of tea."

"Yes, Mr. McKerrow," she said, putting on her demure governess voice, and went in.

Last night, I attended this event online!

Johnny Marr talking about some of his favourite guitars, and playing snatches of classic, iconic songs. It was a treat!


A couple of weeks ago, I visited the Rath Museum in Geneva for the first time.

A clock!

Four-hundred-year-old armour!

Clock innards!

A teeny tiny model of a ship!

Watch innards!

Swiss art

Art by an Englishman in Switzerland

A chronicle of Nuremberg from 1493

Lake Thun

Lunch interlude at a Turkish restaurant!

Köfte

Baklava

Reading my fortune in my coffee cup...

Description of the temporary exhibit

Street view!

Ottoman paintings by Jean-Etienne Liotard
these were in the catalogue; I didn't see them in person, unfortunately)

A fun day out!

What's your favourite musical instrument?