Dawson's Fall_A Novel by Roxana Robinson

Author:Roxana Robinson [Robinson, Roxana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Biographical, Fiction, Historical, General, Adult, Literary
ISBN: 9780374719753
Google: SbhuDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B07HF2D2V6
Goodreads: 41940465
Publisher: Sarah Crichton Books
Published: 2019-05-14T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

HÉLÈNE WAS SENT OUT to Sullivan’s Island for the day. The Dawsons had rented a little summer house there, as did everyone they knew. Sarah had asked her to meet with the caretaker, to start getting the house ready.

Hélène came back on the last ferry. It was dark by the time she took the car up Rutledge Avenue. She got down at Bull Street. The air was cool and damp, and the streetlamp cast a glowing circle on the ground. The houses were dim, the streets empty. Night had drawn itself smoothly across the city.

Hélène’s footsteps sounded loud in the silence. As she crossed the street she saw a man standing on the sidewalk, near the corner. He was watching her. When she reached the sidewalk he stepped toward her.

“Good evening,” said the doctor.

She bowed, but kept walking, very erect.

“Good evening, mademoiselle.” He mispronounced the word. He stepped forward, blocking her way, and doffing his hat with a clumsy flourish.

“Good evening, Dr. McDow.” She stopped.

“You’re out very late,” he said.

“I have come from Sullivan’s Island,” she said with some pride. She pronounced the difficult name carefully. “Madame Dawson asks me to make some commissions there.”

“Very nice,” McDow said. “And how is the baby?” He added, “The cook’s baby.”

“He keeps very well,” Hélène said. “Thank you.” She could see his eyes in the dimness.

“Very good,” McDow said. “And how do you like it here in Charleston, mademoiselle?”

“I like it here very much.”

“How long have you been here?” he asked. “Our fair city.” He said this as though it were a joke; she didn’t know why.

“I come two year ago,” she said. “I will stay two more year.”

“Two more years,” he said. “A long time before you see France again.”

She was not from France, but didn’t correct him. People here thought France was more glamorous than Switzerland. “I have made an arrangement with the Dawsons. I will stay two more year.”

“You don’t want to go back before that?” He was smiling still, looking into her eyes, intimate, intent. “You could leave the Dawsons.”

“The Dawsons are good to me,” she said primly. “Captain Dawson is like my father. I could not leave without permission,” she added practically. “They would not give me a reference, and I would not find another position.”

“What if you came to France as my wife,” said the doctor.

“You are already married, monsieur,” Hélène said. She was excited by the word “wife.”

“Not happily married.” He stared, smiling, daring her to respond.

She wondered if he’d been drinking. There was something loose and unpredictable about him.

“You are married now.” She could feel he was attracted to her. Her body had become electric. She glowed, invisibly.

“I should have married you.” His smile spread across his face. He leaned slightly toward her.

“Non,” Hélène said. But she had seen his wife, coarse and heavy, with small eyes like a boar’s. “I must go home. It’s late. I can’t stay in the street.”

She felt herself powerful and beautiful. She felt his gaze on her. She felt his urgency.

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