And so they packed their trunks and boarded yet another carriage to get to the Marseilles train to Paris. It took two days to get there, given the weather, but upon arrival, the trains whisked them off in relative comfort. Until Strasbourg.
In Strasbourg, a warm week had melted the snow and, coupled with rain, flooded the city of canals. The bridge over the Rhine was imperiled, and the trains could not run underwater. Prudence and her group, like many other passengers, were turned away at the train station, with no idea when they could leave the flooded town.
They holed up at Strasbourg’s “English” hotel, reassured that they would be comfortable there as they waited out the storms. Two days passed, with daily treks to the train station in the rain, checking once again on conditions. Finally, on the third day, they were reassured that the train would run the following morning, and told to return with their luggage.
Tristan didn’t mind being the pack horse, and of course there were no complaints out of Georgie or Eleanor. Joanna bore the inconvenience with aplomb. It made Prudence feel surprisingly petulant. She was already out of sorts, and this delay had not made her feel any better.
The next morning, they trundled over to the train station early, hoping to get their first-class tickets. The station was already full of four days’ worth of irritated passengers. Prudence made her way to the ticket line with Tristan, jostled by the sheer number of people. Once, in a flash, she could have sworn she saw Leo. It only added to what felt like the sheer mayhem of the morning.
They managed to prove their ticket purchase for first class seats, but the clerk told them they would be in second class. Tristan puffed up his chest, and Prudence swore he grew three feet taller as he protested on his mother’s behalf. The clerk would only bend so far, and in the end, they were able to obtain three first class tickets. The rest would be in the second-class car.
“That’s fine,” Prudence said. She and Georgie could be in second class, and it wouldn’t bother her a bit. At least they would be in Switzerland by the end of the day.
But boarding the train proved another feat. Strangers stepped on the hem of her dress, and Georgie, despite being quite a solid woman, was pushed into several times. A less sturdy person would have fallen.
“If you are a single passenger, please queue here,” a clerk shouted between the cars. He shouted the same phrase in French and German, and then back in English again.
Prudence and Georgie boarded and found two seats together, settling in them with a feeling of finding safe harbor at last. Georgie, in rare form, looked disturbed by the experience.
“At least we got on the first train,” Prudence said.
A clerk walked through the car, noting empty seats. One of the seats opposite theirs was empty. An older woman occupied the window seat, and she peered out of it, even though they were still inside the train station. She had white hair, pulled back into a severe bun and a black hat pinned into place.
“Pardon me, madame, do you have a companion with you?” Prudence asked. She certainly didn’t want the clerk to get the wrong idea and give away a seat that was needed.
The woman peered at Prudence with watery blue eyes and blinked. “Kein Englisch.”
Which Prudence took to mean that she didn’t speak any English, and she gave up. The clerk who spoke German could sort it out. The meager words that Prudence had managed to learn in the last year were not enough to have a complex conversation. They were barely enough for a simple conversation.
A gentleman was ushered to sit down next to the older woman. He was round in every way—a round face, a round belly, and his fleshy palms round with short fingers that he curled over his kneecaps. “Guten Morgen,” he said with utmost seriousness.
The old lady returned the greeting as uninterested as she had spoken to Prudence.
“Guten Morgen,” Georgie returned, and Prudence shot her a glance. Georgie shrugged and whispered, “The German colony was the next town over from me.”
Prudence shook her head and was relieved as the train lurched forward. Finally. Finally, she was on her way to the mountain. The one bright spot she had left. She stared out the window just as the old lady did. The train left the station, revealing gray clouds and flooded roads. Once outside of Strasbourg, the landscape was sodden and the rivers were bursting. Mud churned as they slid by on a surprisingly smooth track.
A flurry of German was spoken, but Prudence didn’t bother trying to pay attention. And then Georgie elbowed her. She looked over as the round man stood and made way for another gentleman. A clerk was in the aisle as well.
“This man says he is a business acquaintance of yours?” the clerk asked in accented English.
Prudence looked at the seated man, who still wore his hat, and her heart flipped. It was as if the breath had been knocked out of her. Leo sat there, looking polished and fine and angular and capable.
“He is,” she managed. The clerk looked pleased and shuffled off.
Leo stared at her, and she couldn’t manage to break his gaze. Georgie elbowed her again.
“Switch seats,” she whispered, standing. Prudence slid over, so that she now sat directly in front of Leo. Could touch him if she wished.
“What are you doing here?” Prudence asked.
He examined her, as if memorizing her face. “I came to apologize.”
“You came to France to apologize?” She felt a grin coming unbidden to her face.
“I had never wanted to make an apology in writing. It felt too easy. I needed you to see my face so that I wouldn’t use the wrong words to make things worse.”
Prudence gobbled up the sight of him, the sound of him, but she bided her time. She needed sweet words at last. No one had ever said things like this aloud to her, and she was anxious for them as she was for her mountain. “I see you.”
