Bastian - Chapter 96 - Like a Name Engraved on a Tombstone
Today, just like before, the postman visited the mansion at 2 o’clock. This is the exact moment when the afternoon sun illuminates the Ardenne Bay with a mesmerizing golden hue.
The maid, after having retrieved the mail, made her way to the study. Odette sat at a desk by the window that overlooked the sea. It had become her haven and where she spent most of her time.
Dora observed the piles of documents. “Why don’t you delegate all this to Mr. Lovis?” she said reassuringly.
Odette was preoccupied with the organisation of the mansions decorations and landscaping, and simply nodded to Dora. With the extensive construction projects underway over the years, there were a lot of details that needed to be checked. One could say that Odette had spent the entire summer living and breathing at the mansion.
“Thank you for your concern, Dora,” Odette said with a smile.
Dora was aware of the meaning behind the smile and cleared her throat. “I have a letter for you, mam.”
Odette placed her pen down and looked up at Dora. The letter was stamped with the Berg postmark, it was Bastian’s monthly letter, which never failed to show up in the middle of the month.
Odette carefully put on the practised expression of excitement befitting a devoted wife. She handled the letter delicately. With her task done, Dora backed away, gave a polite bow, then left the room.
Letting her smile drop, Odette stared at the letter like it was a giant, slimy slug. She calmly opened the letter, unfolding the crisp, white paper, she found a cheque nestled inside. This had become a familiar sight. Just simple cheque with no further instructions.
From the moment Bastian had embarked, he had sent her monthly cheques. It wasn’t until the third month that Odette realised the meaning behind them. Payments disguised as love letters. She felt like she had no other choice than to accept the money and pretend to swoon at the imagined words inside if anyone was around when she opened the letters.
Even after being betrayed Bastian didn’t cut her salary. Determined not to linger on the sense of shame she felt, Odette stuffed the letter into the desk drawer and moved on.
The amount of money she had accumulated since sighing the contract with Bastian was becoming substantial. It was reasonable to believe that her target had been achieved.
An idea suddenly struck Odette, would it be wise to send Tira to the new world as well? A place far beyond the reach of even Bastian. She needed to make the decision before he returned.
Taking a sip of tea, Odette looked out to the sunset. With all her hard work, the mansion should be complete in time for Bastian’s return. Although she did not need to oversee the work herself, she felt a deep sense of satisfaction doing so, like she had given herself purpose.
Finishing up her tea, Odette turned her attention to devising a reply to Bastian’s letter. It was important to maintain the appearance of a loving couple and Bastian looked as if he was not yet ready to publicly announce their divorce yet. It was the best she could hope for after a long struggle.
In a moment of respite, a drop of ink fell onto the blank page. Letting out a sigh, she wiped it away with a bit of cloth, but it had already left its mark.
Odette calmly accepted the situation, approaching the fireplace with a folded letter. As she watched it turn to ashes and disappear, she returned to her desk. After making sure there was no trace left, she filled a fresh pen with ink and began writing anew.
She decided that was enough.
*.·:·.✧.·:·.*
The residence for the officers of the North Fleet was situated in the heart of the main island, in a peaceful residential area that one could reach after crossing through the city park.
A military car carrying Major Klauswitz pulled to a stop at the entrance. The driver quickly opened got out and opened the passenger door. Despite being out to sea for a considerable amount of time, the Major had minimal luggage.
“Oh, sir, let me,” the driver said, reaching for Bastian’s bags.
“No, just go back to your duties,” Bastian said, passing by the driver with a brief salute. He never once looked at the boy.
A cold, misty rain fell from the low clouds. August was only just coming to an end, but it felt like the island was already in the midst of autumn.
“Hello Major.” A lively voice called out to him.
Bastian looked up from where the voice came from a young lady stood in front of the officers residence. It was the wife of lieutenant Caylon, who lived next door.
“Have you finished your duties for the day? You must have had a hard time on the rough seas.” The young woman continued.
“I suppose, I just got on with it. Thank you for your concern ma’am.” Bastian gave as polite a response as he could muster, with a ceremonial smile.
Frustrated, Mrs Caylon adjusted her umbrella with an awkward smile. “You’ll be tired, I bet, go and get some rest. I would love to arrange for a little party for you, if you don’t mind.” she said.
“Thank you, Mrs Caylon, but you don’t need to put yourself out like that.”
“What do you mean? I cant just let the benefactor of my family go like this. It would be a great honour if you could allow me this small chance to show my gratitude.” Mrs Caylon was a very stubborn woman that never backed down.
Lieutenant Caylon was a newly commissioned officer and as such, his family had been appointed a single accommodation, barely big enough for them all. While Bastian had been appointed a rather large and lavish accommodation that would suit Lieutenant Caylon and his family, so Bastian made the rash decision to swap. His kindness earned him a reputation for exceptional character, which greatly benefits him.
Bastian bid Mrs Caylon farewell and made his way to his accommodation situated at the end of the row of houses. As soon as he stepped through the front door, he could smell the food prepared by the housekeeper.
After removed his raincoat and officer hat, Bastian went straight to his bedroom to unpack his trunk and following a refreshing shower before heading back downstairs for dinner. The sun had set by the time he felt full and poured himself a brandy in the drawing room.
On the desk were neat piles of mail he needed to sort through. He sat on the small sofa to filter through them and the top most letter was from Odette.
He carefully opened it and stared at the contents. A neat little ink blot signed ‘Odette Theresia Marie-Lore Charlotte Klauswitz.’ Bastian laughed.
The woman that had worked so hard to maintain the appearance of someone who was noble and elegant, to garner a reputation of someone who loved her husband, who was nothing more than a cheap snob that had sold her life for money, sold her faith and everything else for pride, was now nothing more than a cheap joke. She was destined to be someone to be forgotten, much like a name engraved on a tombstone.
Setting the letter aside, Bastian leaned against the armrest of the sofa and swiftly moved on to the remaining letters. Among them was a letter from Sandrine.
My Beloved Bastian it read.
Sandrine’s letter was a language of passion, brimming with love and admiration. She was a fiery woman and was only growing bolder when she finalised her divorce. She was headstrong and an ideal match for Bastian, an opportunity he would be a fool to pass up.
Setting down his now empty glass, he rose from the sofa, brushed back his tangled hair and stood by the rain streaked window. Water droplets from his wet hair fell onto his nose and vanished behind his open bathrobe.
He leisurely smoked his cigar as he looked out into the damp darkness, thinking about Odette. Without the need to issue paychecks this month, as he was returning to the Ardenne, his only remaining task was to finish off that contract so that he could slot everything back into its desired place.
With another puff, Bastian turned and made his way towards his bed, his footsteps blending into the soft echoes of the serene North Sea night.