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elen_nareTitle: Broken Trust and Broken Hearts
Fandom: Chalet School
Rating: G
Length: 5113 words
Author's Notes: Title taken from "Impossible", by Shontelle.
The timeline for this fic assumes Hilda was 30 or 31 when she became Head in New Chalet School; she did say she was "not much over thirty" in Challenge for the Chalet School... of course, followed by "barely a year older than Miss Wilmot is now", when Nancy would have been 37! But that would make Hilda eight years older than Nell, when they always seemed much of an age to me, so I blame EBD's maths for that ;)
With thanks to the lovely readers at Lime Green Musing, whose comments helped make this story what it is.
Summary: Hilda and Nell have both known heartbreak. After the School's first term in England, they share their stories with each other.
Plas Howell was strangely quiet, that warm summer evening. The Chalet School’s first term there had just ended. The girls, and most of the staff, had left that day; only the Head, the Senior Mistress, and the domestic staff remained.
Pouring out two drinks, Hilda handed one of them to Nell before taking her place in one of the armchairs that adorned their little sitting-room. Nell had abandoned her own usual armchair for the couch, where she could feel the faint breeze from the open window.
“Here’s to our first term at Plas Howell,” Hilda said, raising her glass.
“May the next one be less eventful!” Nell replied with a grin, lifting her own glass to clink against Hilda’s.
“A quiet term at the Chalet School? We wouldn’t know what to do if such a thing happened,” Hilda answered, laughing.
Nell joined in the laughter, but soon sobered. “It won’t really be very quiet with the war on, will it?”
Hilda shook her head, sighing. “The Great War was supposed to be the one to end all wars. Oh, I didn’t believe it would do that really, but I never thought I would live to see another.”
“I know... I wish it needn’t happen, but Hitler must be stopped, you know that as well as I do.”
Both fell silent for a while, caught in dark memories of their last days in Austria, of Nell’s mad escape, of the School’s departure from Tirol.
“You were right, you know,” Nell said abruptly. “Right to bring the School here as quickly as could be managed, instead of staying in Guernsey,” she clarified at Hilda’s puzzled look. “I’m sorry I didn’t support you when you proposed it.”
“At the time, even I wasn’t sure I wasn’t being overcautious,” Hilda replied.
“I should have backed you up, though. I don’t know why I didn’t, I knew deep down you were right - and I’d seen first hand what Nazism does. I suppose... I suppose I wanted to forget. To pretend I didn’t know, to pretend that things could carry on as usual.” She sipped her drink. “Actually, what I really wanted was to go back, but since that was impossible, I must have thought the next best thing was not going forwards. Except you can’t do that, can’t freeze time. It keeps moving, and takes you with it whether you want to go or not.”
Hilda hesitated, unsure what to reply. Perhaps this was the time to ask, to get a reply to the question Nell had been avoiding all term... But she doubted, and before she could make up her mind Nell began to talk about exams, and the moment passed.
They talked about the various happenings of the term for a while. Finally, as she refilled both their glasses, Hilda decided she had to tackle it.
“Simone had a beautiful wedding, didn’t she?” she began obliquely. “I’m happy for her, but I do hope no more fiancés turn up out of the blue, or we shall have trouble maintaining the Staff! Simone married this term, Con the term before...”
As Hilda had expected, Nell flinched slightly at Con’s name, gripping her glass tightly. It was now or never.
"Nell? What happened between you and Con?” she asked gently.
“Does it matter?” Nell said sharply, not without bitterness. “She's married. Gone. That's all there is to say.”
“It isn't, though, is it?” Hilda insisted.
“Why do you want to know?” Nell asked defensively.
“Because I know what a broken heart is, and I know you shouldn't - can’t - deal with it alone. You're my friend, Nell, and I want to help you. Please don't push me away.”
Nell didn't answer for a while, turning her glass in her hands and staring into the amber depths of her whisky. Hilda watched her with bated breath, afraid she’d said the wrong thing, pushed too hard, or too soon, or too late, and Nell would shut her out again as she had all this term.
Nell turned Hilda’s words over in her mind, trying to decide what to reply. The straight question had been unexpectedly painful - so far, she had managed to avoid Hilda’s delicately worded queries, pretending to miss their meaning, and buried herself in work. There was no work to be done now, though, no misunderstanding to pretend. And suddenly, she realised what a relief it would be to share the thoughts that burdened her.
“It... it was several things, I suppose,” she said slowly, not sure how to begin. “It ties into what I said earlier, in a way. You can’t go back. My escape from Austria, and what happened before it... it changed more than my hair.” Unconsciously, she lifted a hand to touch the now white curls. “To see that mob chasing Herr Goldmann, people we knew, people who knew him, just because he was a Jew... I was so terrified for the girls, even though I knew that trying to save him was the right thing. And Vater Johann, rescuing us from the crowd at the cost of his own life - I feared from the moment he shut the trapdoor that he’d sacrificed himself for us. If he’d only come with us...”
“Don’t torment yourself with it, Nell. You weren’t to blame,” Hilda said, placing her glass on the table and reaching out to take Nell’s free hand. “He chose to rescue you, and he knew what the price would be. Even if he hadn’t chosen to save you, he would have fallen foul of the Nazis soon enough, rescuing some poor unfortunate from their hands. He would never have stood idly by while atrocities were committed against his people.”
Nell sighed. “It just seems such a waste. It isn’t even as if Herr Goldmann had managed to escape, they caught him in his house with his wife and killed them both.” She sniffed and gulped.
“You did your best, and you gave them time to see each other again, to say goodbye. You could never forgive yourself if you’d just stood by and done nothing.” Hilda spoke forcefully, looking straight into Nell’s eyes. Had this brave, stubborn woman been tormenting herself with these thoughts all this time?
“I know that really, but... the lesser of two evils is still an evil. I know we tried to do the right thing, I just wish it had ended differently.”
She pressed Hilda’s hands softly in thanks, then lifted her glass to her lips and drank deeply from it before speaking again.
“I seem to have got a bit sidetracked, you wanted to know what happened with Con. Like I said, everything in Austria changed me. The person who arrived in Guernsey wasn’t the same one who had left Tirol.”
“You’re still you,” Hilda disagreed. “Still loyal, and a wonderful teacher - and stubborn as a mule!” she added, as Nell shook her head obstinately. “You have changed in some ways, we all have, but you’re not an entirely different person.”
“I think we’re arguing about semantics, which means I may as well give up, since I’ll never win such an argument against an English mistress!”
The cheeky smile would have fooled most people, but Hilda could see it was forced. It faded quickly, and Nell fell silent, her eyes thoughtful as she stared into the distance, lost in her memories.
“Anyway,” she finally continued, “I had changed, and Con found it hard to cope with. She didn’t really understand, and I didn’t know how to explain it... I suppose she had changed too, and we couldn’t seem to find a way back to what we had been. And there was Jock, too...”
“Did she love him?” Hilda asked quietly, then wished she could take her words back at the look on Nell’s face.
That question... Nell couldn’t help wincing when she heard it. It was the same one that she had tortured herself with through long sleepless nights, simultaneously wishing for both ‘yes’ and ‘no’ to be the answer. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to seem careless and suspecting she wasn’t succeeding.
“She cared for him, though I was never quite sure how much. I tried to ignore it for as long as possible, tried to forget he existed. We lived in the moment a great deal. I do know she wanted what he could give her; a home of her own, children... she really wanted children - well, she still does, I shouldn’t be talking about her in the past tense! You remember Con and I lived together in my cottage for a while, before we started up in Guernsey?”
Hilda nodded in answer to her inquiring look, and she went on.
“In a way, that was a last attempt to get our relationship back on its feet, but it couldn’t be done. There were just too many things in the way. I think we both knew, by the time the School restarted, that it was over, but we didn’t want to admit it. We spent most of that term arguing...” There was pain in her face as she recalled that time, and she hurried to wind up her speech. “Well, you know how it ended. I came to England before the rest of you, Jock showed up at Guernsey, and he and Con got married and left for Singapore.” She hesitated. “Hilda, you were at the wedding. Did she... did she seem... happy?”
Hilda thought back, remembering Con’s wedding. She had seemed to be happy, and truly in love. Hilda, knowing of her relationship with Nell, had wondered; but in the frantic rush of those days, she had never been able to get Con alone for long - and even if she had managed it, what could she have said?
“Yes, I think she was,” she finally replied. “It all happened in such a hurry, and we were so busy trying to get the School things packed at the same time; but I think she was happy.”
Nell gave a strange, twisted smile. “I’m glad of that,” she said, her voice choked. “I want her to be happy - but, oh, Hilda, I do miss her so!” Her self-control, strong as it was, could hold no longer. Burying her face in her hands, she wept bitterly.
Swiftly, Hilda moved from her armchair to the couch, where she sat next to Nell and pulled her into a tight hug. She didn’t try to hush the sobs or soothe away the tears, aware that Nell had been holding them in for far too long as it was. She just held her close and let her cry, hoping to comfort her by simply being there. She knew how much it helped to have a friend by your side at times like this.
Nell never knew how long she sat like that, sobbing, Hilda’s arms around her. Eventually, the worst of the storm passed, and she felt able to pull herself together once more.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice shivery, doing her best to smile at Hilda. “I’m sorry.”
Keeping one arm around Nell’s shoulders, Hilda felt in her pocket with her other hand. Pulling out a handkerchief, she passed it to her. Nell took it and rubbed her face fiercely, as if she wanted to wipe away not just the tears but also the sorrow that had caused them.
“Don’t be sorry,” Hilda said firmly. “You needed that. In fact, you’ve probably needed it for a while. I should have asked sooner...”
“I wouldn’t have answered,” Nell replied honestly. “I think I needed time to come to terms with it on my own first. And you have tried, I’ve just pretended not to understand what you were asking.”
“I should have asked in a way that didn’t allow that pretence,” Hilda said, feeling guilty as she thought of how much pain Nell had been bearing all term. “I was afraid of pushing you away, of hurting you more... and with all the dreadful things that happened this term, I needed you by my side. I’m sorry, Nell. I should have been braver, and less selfish.”
“Don’t be such an ass!” Nell retorted, leaning against her friend. She felt suddenly exhausted, and was grateful for Hilda’s arm still around her, for the strength, belied by the slender frame, which supported her. “It was the right thing to do. You gave me the chance to talk if I needed it, and the chance not to if I wasn’t ready - and I wasn’t, not then. I’d just have felt worse for wailing about my own problems when there were so many bigger troubles around us. So don’t blame yourself!”
Before Hilda could reply, the clock chimed, and she was horrified at the time it struck. A glance at Nell’s tear-stained face showed how tired she was; her eyes, still red from crying, were half closed. Even more than her expression, though, it was the way she leant against Hilda which told her that Nell was bone-weary. “I think it’s time we were in bed,” she said. “You look worn out, my dear.”
“Sleep does sound like a good idea,” Nell agreed, rising slowly to her feet. Working in companionable silence, they quickly set the sitting-room to rights and headed for their own bedrooms. They moved quietly through the corridors; even if there were no students at the School now, Matey had trained them well.
At the door to Nell’s room, Hilda paused.
“Will you be all right?” she asked, her keen blue eyes searching Nell’s face.
Slowly, Nell nodded, returning her gaze frankly. “Yes, I think so. Thank you for making me talk, I needed it.”
“What are friends for?” Hilda said, smiling. What she had seen relieved her; Nell’s face showed the signs of her bitter tears, and there was still grief in her eyes, but Hilda could see a new hope there, too. “Good night, Nell.”
“Good night, Hilda,” Nell answered, then suddenly gave her a fierce hug. “I’m glad you’re my friend,” she whispered in Hilda’s ear.
Stepping back, she vanished into her bedroom, leaving Hilda to go on to her own, alone with her thoughts.
“Nell Wilson! What do you think you’re doing?” Hilda exclaimed in scandalised tones as she walked into their sitting-room the next evening.
“Well, I thought I was having an enjoyable read, but judging by your voice I must actually be committing murder!” Nell retorted, lowering her copy of ‘Hercule Poirot’s Christmas’ to give Hilda an amused look from where she lay on the couch.
“You’ll ruin your eyesight reading while lying down like that,” Hilda scolded, returning Nell’s look with the frown that made naughty Middles quake.
“If I did it every day, maybe. But I’m hardly going to lose my sight from reading lying down for ten minutes,” Nell protested, glaring back at her.
“All I can say is, when the doctor tells you you need glasses don’t complain to me!” Hilda answered sternly. “Now, would you like a cup of tea?” she continued in a more conciliatory manner.
“Haven’t we got anything stronger?” Nell asked, as she swung herself into a sitting position. “We can’t have finished it all off last night, surely.”
“A nice state we’d have been in if we had,” Hilda replied, casting a quick glance at Nell at the mention of the previous evening. Nell caught it, and smiled at her reassuringly before rising to prepare their drinks.
Returning to her seat, she said lightly, “You know, Hilda, I’ve been thinking today, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve been what the Middles would call an utter beast.”
“And why are you abusing yourself and the English language so?” Hilda asked drily.
“It’s something you said last night,” Nell replied. “You said you knew what a broken heart was, and... you don’t have to tell me, of course, but if you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”
Nell had watched Hilda’s face intently as she spoke, and seen both the initial surprise at her question and the sadness which followed it. She hoped fervently Hilda would overcome her reserve and talk about it; she wanted to share her friend’s pain, lightening the burden, as Hilda had done for her the night before.
Hilda bit her lip, hesitating. At the time, she’d barely noticed what she’d admitted, she was so focussed on getting Nell to talk to her. It wasn’t till now that the realisation hit her, and she was unsure what to do. Would it hurt or help Nell to hear her story? Would it hurt or help her to tell it? Finally, she made up her mind. Nell had trusted her enough to tell her of her heartbreak, she could hardly do less than repay that trust. Besides, she wanted to tell her, wanted Nell to know, to understand.
“Her name was Vivien,” she began deliberately.
Nell’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t seem nearly as surprised as Hilda had expected. Of course, Nell knew her so well. She must have guessed.
“How long have you known?” she asked.
“I’ve wondered for a while, though I didn’t quite dare to ask you,” Nell answered honestly. “You were so understanding about me and Con, it made me suspect.”
“People who aren’t... this way... can be understanding too,” Hilda replied, but Nell shook her head.
“They can be accepting, but there’s a difference. You didn’t just accept it, you understood it.”
“Semantics again,” Hilda said with a soft smile. “I should probably start again at the beginning; I just wanted to make it clear from the start that she was a woman.”
Nell nodded, understanding, and she started her tale.
“It began the year after I left university. I was at my first post, a big day school in York. I was thrilled with it - I liked the school, and I was proud to be so independent; but at the same time, I was lonely, since I didn’t really know anyone in the city. Some of the Staff took pity on me, and introduced me to their friends, but I still felt rather an outsider. I’d joined the local library as soon as I arrived -”
“Naturally,” Nell interjected with a wicked grin.
“I couldn’t possibly have bought all the books I wanted to read,” Hilda retorted, smiling back.
“Not if you wanted to eat, no! Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Go on!” There was no real apology in her voice, though. She had meant to interrupt Hilda, teasing her gently to lighten the mood and make it easier for her to tell her story.
“It was at the library that I first met Vivien. We were browsing the same shelves... I think I fell for her the moment I saw her. I felt too shy to speak to her, but Vivien didn’t know what shyness was. She started talking to me about the books we were looking at, and before I knew where I was she’d invited me to a tea room. We must have talked for hours, and by the end of it I was completely infatuated with her.” She looked at Nell, blushing slightly. “I suppose you must think me very silly to fall so badly for someone I’d just met!”
“Not in the least!” Nell exclaimed. “You were young, and lonely, and she was friendly. Heaven knows I formed violent crushes on people with far less reason when I was that age!”
Hilda regarded her curiously, trying to imagine what her friend would have been like then. Noticing the look and interpreting it correctly, Nell added, “I’ll tell you about them some day if you like, not that there’s much to tell in most cases. I won’t interrupt your story with it now - unless you want to stop?” she asked anxiously.
Hilda shook her head. “Now I’ve started, I’d like to go on. As I said, I fell for her completely. I spent the next few days making excuses to go to the library all the time, hoping to find her - don’t ask why I hadn’t got her address the first time! I was so flustered, and so busy trying to pretend I wasn’t, that I never even thought of it.”
She grimaced at her younger self’s foolishness, and Nell smiled sympathetically. She’d done that herself, been so caught up in the excitement of the moment she’d completely forgotten about little things like contact details.
“But when I got near the place,” Hilda continued, “I’d slow down because I was suddenly terrified that she wouldn’t remember me, or wouldn’t be interested in being my friend... I didn’t dare even think about the possibility of being more than friends, or I’d have run home in wild panic and never gone past my front door again! From the books we’d been discussing at our first meeting, I did suspect she might like women, but I didn’t have the nerve to think she might like me specifically. I was hovering in front of the library on the third day, trying to work up enough courage to go in, when Vivien came out. She took one look at me - I must have looked completely frozen, for it was a horrible day - and insisted I go to her house and have a cup of tea. When we got there... well, she made it very clear she was interested in me.”
She stopped there, blushing again, and Nell bit back a grin. From the colour Hilda had gone, she felt she could make a good guess at just how Vivien had made her interest clear. She didn’t say anything, though. Hilda was embarrassed enough as it was; if Nell spoke now, it would be too much for her. So she stayed silent, and after a little while Hilda resumed the tale.
“You know I hate clichés, Nell, but I really did feel like I was walking on air then. I was so happy... I wanted to tell everyone I knew, but I couldn’t, of course. The only person I told was my best friend from school, Carrie. She wasn’t... like me... but she knew, and she understood it - or accepted it, since you’re so picky.” She flashed Nell a sudden smile before continuing. “Some of Vivien’s friends knew, but they were Vivien’s friends, not mine. They overawed me, and I was never really comfortable around them.”
“I can’t imagine you being overawed by anyone,” Nell said thoughtfully.
“I was then! Vivien moved in rather higher circles than a young teacher normally would, which wouldn’t have mattered by itself, but they were all older than me, and far more confident... I used to feel horribly self-conscious around them, though they did try to include me. Then, about five months later, Carrie moved to York. Of course, I insisted she meet Vivien at once. I thought she’d be happy for me, and she was, but she was - cautious, is the best way to describe it. At least, she wanted me to be cautious, to not give my heart to Vivien so completely. I was furious, and we quarreled, but Carrie made it up the next day. She hated arguments. I was still a little angry, but I agreed to let it go. I suppose you can guess that she turned out to be quite right in the end?” Hilda couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of her tone as she said that. She’d thought that this was part of her past, could no longer hurt her, but telling the story for the first time made her realise how much pain was still wound up in it.
“I was hoping she wouldn’t be,” Nell replied sadly. “What happened?”
“We were together for nearly a year. Looking back, I can see the signs I missed then, that Vivien was beginning to tire of the relationship. At the time, though, I was oblivious. I was so utterly in love with her that I couldn’t begin to imagine things ending between us... I think, deep down, I realised her feelings weren’t the same, but I thought if I loved her enough I could change them.” Hilda blinked fiercely, pushing back the tears. She refused to cry over this. “One Thursday, I finished early at school; another teacher had called in sick, so my classes had been moved up. I thought I’d surprise Vivien, so I hurried to her house... Well, I surprised her all right.”
“She wasn’t...” Nell began, dreading the thought of what she was horribly sure was coming next.
“Yes. She was with another woman.” Hilda could keep the tears back no longer, and they rolled down her cheeks.
Jumping up, Nell perched herself on the arm of Hilda’s chair and hugged her.
“Oh, Hilda, I’m so sorry,” she murmured.
Taking out her handkerchief, Hilda determinedly dried her face. “I’m all right, really. It was a long time ago,” she said, patting Nell’s arm.
Nell squeezed her shoulder gently and released her, but remained where she was. “What did you do?” she demanded. “I’d have flown at her!”
“I really thought I was going to be sick, so I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in. Eventually, I heard the front door slam, and Vivien came to talk to me. I can’t tell you what she said...”
“It’s private, I understand,” Nell replied, but Hilda shook her head.
“It’s not that, really... it just... hurts too much.”
She could barely stand even to remember that last argument. ‘I’m sorry you found out like this, but you must have seen we weren’t going anywhere’... ‘We had fun, but it’s been over for a while now’... ‘Don’t be such a goose about it, it isn’t as if we were really serious’... Vivien’s words echoed in her head, and she felt the tears begin again. She’d been so much in love; to discover how little she had really meant to Vivien had broken her heart. Even now, years later, it still hurt.
Shoving the memories away, Hilda wiped her eyes again and looked at Nell, who was hugging her tightly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like this...”
“Cry as much as you need, and don’t you dare apologise,” Nell said fiercely. “If anyone should be saying sorry, it’s me, for making you talk about it.”
“You didn’t make me talk, you daft woman. I chose to tell you. Shall I go on?” she asked.
“Only if you want to,” Nell answered, looking at her seriously.
“There’s not much more to tell, really. Eventually I stormed off home... that night was enough to make me realise I couldn’t deal with it alone. I have no idea how I managed to teach the next day, but I got through it somehow. The moment I was done with school, I went to see Carrie.” She smiled slightly, remembering how kind her friend had been. “She insisted I stay with her that weekend, though I wasn’t exactly an amusing guest; I must have spent quite half the time just crying on her shoulder. She was kindness itself, and never once said ‘I told you so’, though honestly I deserved it.”
“No one would say it!” Nell retorted. “I’m glad you had her with you. But how could she do that to you?”
“How could who do what, Nell?” Hilda asked, her voice not quite as light as she wanted it.
“Must you criticise my English even now, Hilda?” Nell complained. “You know perfectly well who I mean! That - that - viper!” Utterly furious on her friend’s behalf, she began raining insults upon Vivien until Hilda stopped her.
“Nell! That’s enough!” she exclaimed. “I value the sentiment,” she continued more softly, “but I was afraid you might never stop.”
“I could go on for a while longer,” Nell admitted. “How could she hurt you so?”
“I don’t think she meant to,” Hilda replied fairly. “She didn’t realise how much I cared for her, and how badly I would be hurt.”
“Only you, Hilda, would defend her,” Nell said, shaking her head in wonder.
“I loved her,” Hilda replied simply. “That doesn’t just vanish.” She paused for a few seconds, remembering, then went on. “I didn’t want to stay in York after that, so I started looking for other posts. When I saw Madge’s advert it seemed like a dream come true. I applied for the place.... and the rest you know.”
“She didn’t deserve you,” Nell told her, her voice still full of anger.
Hilda sighed reminiscently. “Carrie said the same thing.”
“Good for Carrie! I like the sound of her,” Nell said decisively.
Hilda smiled up at her. “I think you would like each other if you met. If she ever comes back to England I’ll introduce you; she moved to South America when she married, and I haven’t seen her since, though we’ve kept in touch.”
“You must miss her.”
“I do... but I found another fine friend in Tirol,” Hilda replied, looking at her meaningfully, and Nell went red. “It was a good place to heal,” she added thoughtfully, before Nell could say anything.
Nell nearly jumped with the surprise of how close that came to her own thoughts. She had been wondering how many of the Staff had been escaping grief when they came to Austria. Herself, after her parents’ death... Hilda, after her heartbreak... were there others? Perhaps.
“It was,” she answered softly. “But Hilda, I’ve not been half as good a friend to you as you’ve been to me.”
“That I won’t agree to! You’re a wonderful friend, and I couldn’t ask for better. I couldn’t have told you all this if you weren’t.”
“Did it help? Talking about it?” Nell asked.
Hilda nodded slowly. “I hadn’t talked about it since it happened, but I can see now how much I needed to. Thank you for asking, and for listening.” She pressed Nell’s hands affectionately. “Now, shall we talk about something happier? We’re leaving tomorrow, and I’ve heard almost nothing about your holiday plans...”
Examining her friend’s expression, Nell followed the lead to change the subject, realising that it was what Hilda needed now. They passed what was left of the evening in quiet conversation, and bid each other farewell cheerfully enough the next morning.
Though sharing the stories of their heartbreak had helped them, there were still many lonely, tear-filled nights awaiting Nell during the holidays ahead, many moments of pain for Hilda as she finally laid the ghosts of her past relationship to rest. But through it all, both found strength and solace in the memory of those two evenings, in the happiness of having found such a friend.
Fandom: Chalet School
Rating: G
Length: 5113 words
Author's Notes: Title taken from "Impossible", by Shontelle.
The timeline for this fic assumes Hilda was 30 or 31 when she became Head in New Chalet School; she did say she was "not much over thirty" in Challenge for the Chalet School... of course, followed by "barely a year older than Miss Wilmot is now", when Nancy would have been 37! But that would make Hilda eight years older than Nell, when they always seemed much of an age to me, so I blame EBD's maths for that ;)
With thanks to the lovely readers at Lime Green Musing, whose comments helped make this story what it is.
Summary: Hilda and Nell have both known heartbreak. After the School's first term in England, they share their stories with each other.
Plas Howell was strangely quiet, that warm summer evening. The Chalet School’s first term there had just ended. The girls, and most of the staff, had left that day; only the Head, the Senior Mistress, and the domestic staff remained.
Pouring out two drinks, Hilda handed one of them to Nell before taking her place in one of the armchairs that adorned their little sitting-room. Nell had abandoned her own usual armchair for the couch, where she could feel the faint breeze from the open window.
“Here’s to our first term at Plas Howell,” Hilda said, raising her glass.
“May the next one be less eventful!” Nell replied with a grin, lifting her own glass to clink against Hilda’s.
“A quiet term at the Chalet School? We wouldn’t know what to do if such a thing happened,” Hilda answered, laughing.
Nell joined in the laughter, but soon sobered. “It won’t really be very quiet with the war on, will it?”
Hilda shook her head, sighing. “The Great War was supposed to be the one to end all wars. Oh, I didn’t believe it would do that really, but I never thought I would live to see another.”
“I know... I wish it needn’t happen, but Hitler must be stopped, you know that as well as I do.”
Both fell silent for a while, caught in dark memories of their last days in Austria, of Nell’s mad escape, of the School’s departure from Tirol.
“You were right, you know,” Nell said abruptly. “Right to bring the School here as quickly as could be managed, instead of staying in Guernsey,” she clarified at Hilda’s puzzled look. “I’m sorry I didn’t support you when you proposed it.”
“At the time, even I wasn’t sure I wasn’t being overcautious,” Hilda replied.
“I should have backed you up, though. I don’t know why I didn’t, I knew deep down you were right - and I’d seen first hand what Nazism does. I suppose... I suppose I wanted to forget. To pretend I didn’t know, to pretend that things could carry on as usual.” She sipped her drink. “Actually, what I really wanted was to go back, but since that was impossible, I must have thought the next best thing was not going forwards. Except you can’t do that, can’t freeze time. It keeps moving, and takes you with it whether you want to go or not.”
Hilda hesitated, unsure what to reply. Perhaps this was the time to ask, to get a reply to the question Nell had been avoiding all term... But she doubted, and before she could make up her mind Nell began to talk about exams, and the moment passed.
They talked about the various happenings of the term for a while. Finally, as she refilled both their glasses, Hilda decided she had to tackle it.
“Simone had a beautiful wedding, didn’t she?” she began obliquely. “I’m happy for her, but I do hope no more fiancés turn up out of the blue, or we shall have trouble maintaining the Staff! Simone married this term, Con the term before...”
As Hilda had expected, Nell flinched slightly at Con’s name, gripping her glass tightly. It was now or never.
"Nell? What happened between you and Con?” she asked gently.
“Does it matter?” Nell said sharply, not without bitterness. “She's married. Gone. That's all there is to say.”
“It isn't, though, is it?” Hilda insisted.
“Why do you want to know?” Nell asked defensively.
“Because I know what a broken heart is, and I know you shouldn't - can’t - deal with it alone. You're my friend, Nell, and I want to help you. Please don't push me away.”
Nell didn't answer for a while, turning her glass in her hands and staring into the amber depths of her whisky. Hilda watched her with bated breath, afraid she’d said the wrong thing, pushed too hard, or too soon, or too late, and Nell would shut her out again as she had all this term.
Nell turned Hilda’s words over in her mind, trying to decide what to reply. The straight question had been unexpectedly painful - so far, she had managed to avoid Hilda’s delicately worded queries, pretending to miss their meaning, and buried herself in work. There was no work to be done now, though, no misunderstanding to pretend. And suddenly, she realised what a relief it would be to share the thoughts that burdened her.
“It... it was several things, I suppose,” she said slowly, not sure how to begin. “It ties into what I said earlier, in a way. You can’t go back. My escape from Austria, and what happened before it... it changed more than my hair.” Unconsciously, she lifted a hand to touch the now white curls. “To see that mob chasing Herr Goldmann, people we knew, people who knew him, just because he was a Jew... I was so terrified for the girls, even though I knew that trying to save him was the right thing. And Vater Johann, rescuing us from the crowd at the cost of his own life - I feared from the moment he shut the trapdoor that he’d sacrificed himself for us. If he’d only come with us...”
“Don’t torment yourself with it, Nell. You weren’t to blame,” Hilda said, placing her glass on the table and reaching out to take Nell’s free hand. “He chose to rescue you, and he knew what the price would be. Even if he hadn’t chosen to save you, he would have fallen foul of the Nazis soon enough, rescuing some poor unfortunate from their hands. He would never have stood idly by while atrocities were committed against his people.”
Nell sighed. “It just seems such a waste. It isn’t even as if Herr Goldmann had managed to escape, they caught him in his house with his wife and killed them both.” She sniffed and gulped.
“You did your best, and you gave them time to see each other again, to say goodbye. You could never forgive yourself if you’d just stood by and done nothing.” Hilda spoke forcefully, looking straight into Nell’s eyes. Had this brave, stubborn woman been tormenting herself with these thoughts all this time?
“I know that really, but... the lesser of two evils is still an evil. I know we tried to do the right thing, I just wish it had ended differently.”
She pressed Hilda’s hands softly in thanks, then lifted her glass to her lips and drank deeply from it before speaking again.
“I seem to have got a bit sidetracked, you wanted to know what happened with Con. Like I said, everything in Austria changed me. The person who arrived in Guernsey wasn’t the same one who had left Tirol.”
“You’re still you,” Hilda disagreed. “Still loyal, and a wonderful teacher - and stubborn as a mule!” she added, as Nell shook her head obstinately. “You have changed in some ways, we all have, but you’re not an entirely different person.”
“I think we’re arguing about semantics, which means I may as well give up, since I’ll never win such an argument against an English mistress!”
The cheeky smile would have fooled most people, but Hilda could see it was forced. It faded quickly, and Nell fell silent, her eyes thoughtful as she stared into the distance, lost in her memories.
“Anyway,” she finally continued, “I had changed, and Con found it hard to cope with. She didn’t really understand, and I didn’t know how to explain it... I suppose she had changed too, and we couldn’t seem to find a way back to what we had been. And there was Jock, too...”
“Did she love him?” Hilda asked quietly, then wished she could take her words back at the look on Nell’s face.
That question... Nell couldn’t help wincing when she heard it. It was the same one that she had tortured herself with through long sleepless nights, simultaneously wishing for both ‘yes’ and ‘no’ to be the answer. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to seem careless and suspecting she wasn’t succeeding.
“She cared for him, though I was never quite sure how much. I tried to ignore it for as long as possible, tried to forget he existed. We lived in the moment a great deal. I do know she wanted what he could give her; a home of her own, children... she really wanted children - well, she still does, I shouldn’t be talking about her in the past tense! You remember Con and I lived together in my cottage for a while, before we started up in Guernsey?”
Hilda nodded in answer to her inquiring look, and she went on.
“In a way, that was a last attempt to get our relationship back on its feet, but it couldn’t be done. There were just too many things in the way. I think we both knew, by the time the School restarted, that it was over, but we didn’t want to admit it. We spent most of that term arguing...” There was pain in her face as she recalled that time, and she hurried to wind up her speech. “Well, you know how it ended. I came to England before the rest of you, Jock showed up at Guernsey, and he and Con got married and left for Singapore.” She hesitated. “Hilda, you were at the wedding. Did she... did she seem... happy?”
Hilda thought back, remembering Con’s wedding. She had seemed to be happy, and truly in love. Hilda, knowing of her relationship with Nell, had wondered; but in the frantic rush of those days, she had never been able to get Con alone for long - and even if she had managed it, what could she have said?
“Yes, I think she was,” she finally replied. “It all happened in such a hurry, and we were so busy trying to get the School things packed at the same time; but I think she was happy.”
Nell gave a strange, twisted smile. “I’m glad of that,” she said, her voice choked. “I want her to be happy - but, oh, Hilda, I do miss her so!” Her self-control, strong as it was, could hold no longer. Burying her face in her hands, she wept bitterly.
Swiftly, Hilda moved from her armchair to the couch, where she sat next to Nell and pulled her into a tight hug. She didn’t try to hush the sobs or soothe away the tears, aware that Nell had been holding them in for far too long as it was. She just held her close and let her cry, hoping to comfort her by simply being there. She knew how much it helped to have a friend by your side at times like this.
Nell never knew how long she sat like that, sobbing, Hilda’s arms around her. Eventually, the worst of the storm passed, and she felt able to pull herself together once more.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice shivery, doing her best to smile at Hilda. “I’m sorry.”
Keeping one arm around Nell’s shoulders, Hilda felt in her pocket with her other hand. Pulling out a handkerchief, she passed it to her. Nell took it and rubbed her face fiercely, as if she wanted to wipe away not just the tears but also the sorrow that had caused them.
“Don’t be sorry,” Hilda said firmly. “You needed that. In fact, you’ve probably needed it for a while. I should have asked sooner...”
“I wouldn’t have answered,” Nell replied honestly. “I think I needed time to come to terms with it on my own first. And you have tried, I’ve just pretended not to understand what you were asking.”
“I should have asked in a way that didn’t allow that pretence,” Hilda said, feeling guilty as she thought of how much pain Nell had been bearing all term. “I was afraid of pushing you away, of hurting you more... and with all the dreadful things that happened this term, I needed you by my side. I’m sorry, Nell. I should have been braver, and less selfish.”
“Don’t be such an ass!” Nell retorted, leaning against her friend. She felt suddenly exhausted, and was grateful for Hilda’s arm still around her, for the strength, belied by the slender frame, which supported her. “It was the right thing to do. You gave me the chance to talk if I needed it, and the chance not to if I wasn’t ready - and I wasn’t, not then. I’d just have felt worse for wailing about my own problems when there were so many bigger troubles around us. So don’t blame yourself!”
Before Hilda could reply, the clock chimed, and she was horrified at the time it struck. A glance at Nell’s tear-stained face showed how tired she was; her eyes, still red from crying, were half closed. Even more than her expression, though, it was the way she leant against Hilda which told her that Nell was bone-weary. “I think it’s time we were in bed,” she said. “You look worn out, my dear.”
“Sleep does sound like a good idea,” Nell agreed, rising slowly to her feet. Working in companionable silence, they quickly set the sitting-room to rights and headed for their own bedrooms. They moved quietly through the corridors; even if there were no students at the School now, Matey had trained them well.
At the door to Nell’s room, Hilda paused.
“Will you be all right?” she asked, her keen blue eyes searching Nell’s face.
Slowly, Nell nodded, returning her gaze frankly. “Yes, I think so. Thank you for making me talk, I needed it.”
“What are friends for?” Hilda said, smiling. What she had seen relieved her; Nell’s face showed the signs of her bitter tears, and there was still grief in her eyes, but Hilda could see a new hope there, too. “Good night, Nell.”
“Good night, Hilda,” Nell answered, then suddenly gave her a fierce hug. “I’m glad you’re my friend,” she whispered in Hilda’s ear.
Stepping back, she vanished into her bedroom, leaving Hilda to go on to her own, alone with her thoughts.
******
“Nell Wilson! What do you think you’re doing?” Hilda exclaimed in scandalised tones as she walked into their sitting-room the next evening.
“Well, I thought I was having an enjoyable read, but judging by your voice I must actually be committing murder!” Nell retorted, lowering her copy of ‘Hercule Poirot’s Christmas’ to give Hilda an amused look from where she lay on the couch.
“You’ll ruin your eyesight reading while lying down like that,” Hilda scolded, returning Nell’s look with the frown that made naughty Middles quake.
“If I did it every day, maybe. But I’m hardly going to lose my sight from reading lying down for ten minutes,” Nell protested, glaring back at her.
“All I can say is, when the doctor tells you you need glasses don’t complain to me!” Hilda answered sternly. “Now, would you like a cup of tea?” she continued in a more conciliatory manner.
“Haven’t we got anything stronger?” Nell asked, as she swung herself into a sitting position. “We can’t have finished it all off last night, surely.”
“A nice state we’d have been in if we had,” Hilda replied, casting a quick glance at Nell at the mention of the previous evening. Nell caught it, and smiled at her reassuringly before rising to prepare their drinks.
Returning to her seat, she said lightly, “You know, Hilda, I’ve been thinking today, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve been what the Middles would call an utter beast.”
“And why are you abusing yourself and the English language so?” Hilda asked drily.
“It’s something you said last night,” Nell replied. “You said you knew what a broken heart was, and... you don’t have to tell me, of course, but if you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”
Nell had watched Hilda’s face intently as she spoke, and seen both the initial surprise at her question and the sadness which followed it. She hoped fervently Hilda would overcome her reserve and talk about it; she wanted to share her friend’s pain, lightening the burden, as Hilda had done for her the night before.
Hilda bit her lip, hesitating. At the time, she’d barely noticed what she’d admitted, she was so focussed on getting Nell to talk to her. It wasn’t till now that the realisation hit her, and she was unsure what to do. Would it hurt or help Nell to hear her story? Would it hurt or help her to tell it? Finally, she made up her mind. Nell had trusted her enough to tell her of her heartbreak, she could hardly do less than repay that trust. Besides, she wanted to tell her, wanted Nell to know, to understand.
“Her name was Vivien,” she began deliberately.
Nell’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t seem nearly as surprised as Hilda had expected. Of course, Nell knew her so well. She must have guessed.
“How long have you known?” she asked.
“I’ve wondered for a while, though I didn’t quite dare to ask you,” Nell answered honestly. “You were so understanding about me and Con, it made me suspect.”
“People who aren’t... this way... can be understanding too,” Hilda replied, but Nell shook her head.
“They can be accepting, but there’s a difference. You didn’t just accept it, you understood it.”
“Semantics again,” Hilda said with a soft smile. “I should probably start again at the beginning; I just wanted to make it clear from the start that she was a woman.”
Nell nodded, understanding, and she started her tale.
“It began the year after I left university. I was at my first post, a big day school in York. I was thrilled with it - I liked the school, and I was proud to be so independent; but at the same time, I was lonely, since I didn’t really know anyone in the city. Some of the Staff took pity on me, and introduced me to their friends, but I still felt rather an outsider. I’d joined the local library as soon as I arrived -”
“Naturally,” Nell interjected with a wicked grin.
“I couldn’t possibly have bought all the books I wanted to read,” Hilda retorted, smiling back.
“Not if you wanted to eat, no! Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Go on!” There was no real apology in her voice, though. She had meant to interrupt Hilda, teasing her gently to lighten the mood and make it easier for her to tell her story.
“It was at the library that I first met Vivien. We were browsing the same shelves... I think I fell for her the moment I saw her. I felt too shy to speak to her, but Vivien didn’t know what shyness was. She started talking to me about the books we were looking at, and before I knew where I was she’d invited me to a tea room. We must have talked for hours, and by the end of it I was completely infatuated with her.” She looked at Nell, blushing slightly. “I suppose you must think me very silly to fall so badly for someone I’d just met!”
“Not in the least!” Nell exclaimed. “You were young, and lonely, and she was friendly. Heaven knows I formed violent crushes on people with far less reason when I was that age!”
Hilda regarded her curiously, trying to imagine what her friend would have been like then. Noticing the look and interpreting it correctly, Nell added, “I’ll tell you about them some day if you like, not that there’s much to tell in most cases. I won’t interrupt your story with it now - unless you want to stop?” she asked anxiously.
Hilda shook her head. “Now I’ve started, I’d like to go on. As I said, I fell for her completely. I spent the next few days making excuses to go to the library all the time, hoping to find her - don’t ask why I hadn’t got her address the first time! I was so flustered, and so busy trying to pretend I wasn’t, that I never even thought of it.”
She grimaced at her younger self’s foolishness, and Nell smiled sympathetically. She’d done that herself, been so caught up in the excitement of the moment she’d completely forgotten about little things like contact details.
“But when I got near the place,” Hilda continued, “I’d slow down because I was suddenly terrified that she wouldn’t remember me, or wouldn’t be interested in being my friend... I didn’t dare even think about the possibility of being more than friends, or I’d have run home in wild panic and never gone past my front door again! From the books we’d been discussing at our first meeting, I did suspect she might like women, but I didn’t have the nerve to think she might like me specifically. I was hovering in front of the library on the third day, trying to work up enough courage to go in, when Vivien came out. She took one look at me - I must have looked completely frozen, for it was a horrible day - and insisted I go to her house and have a cup of tea. When we got there... well, she made it very clear she was interested in me.”
She stopped there, blushing again, and Nell bit back a grin. From the colour Hilda had gone, she felt she could make a good guess at just how Vivien had made her interest clear. She didn’t say anything, though. Hilda was embarrassed enough as it was; if Nell spoke now, it would be too much for her. So she stayed silent, and after a little while Hilda resumed the tale.
“You know I hate clichés, Nell, but I really did feel like I was walking on air then. I was so happy... I wanted to tell everyone I knew, but I couldn’t, of course. The only person I told was my best friend from school, Carrie. She wasn’t... like me... but she knew, and she understood it - or accepted it, since you’re so picky.” She flashed Nell a sudden smile before continuing. “Some of Vivien’s friends knew, but they were Vivien’s friends, not mine. They overawed me, and I was never really comfortable around them.”
“I can’t imagine you being overawed by anyone,” Nell said thoughtfully.
“I was then! Vivien moved in rather higher circles than a young teacher normally would, which wouldn’t have mattered by itself, but they were all older than me, and far more confident... I used to feel horribly self-conscious around them, though they did try to include me. Then, about five months later, Carrie moved to York. Of course, I insisted she meet Vivien at once. I thought she’d be happy for me, and she was, but she was - cautious, is the best way to describe it. At least, she wanted me to be cautious, to not give my heart to Vivien so completely. I was furious, and we quarreled, but Carrie made it up the next day. She hated arguments. I was still a little angry, but I agreed to let it go. I suppose you can guess that she turned out to be quite right in the end?” Hilda couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of her tone as she said that. She’d thought that this was part of her past, could no longer hurt her, but telling the story for the first time made her realise how much pain was still wound up in it.
“I was hoping she wouldn’t be,” Nell replied sadly. “What happened?”
“We were together for nearly a year. Looking back, I can see the signs I missed then, that Vivien was beginning to tire of the relationship. At the time, though, I was oblivious. I was so utterly in love with her that I couldn’t begin to imagine things ending between us... I think, deep down, I realised her feelings weren’t the same, but I thought if I loved her enough I could change them.” Hilda blinked fiercely, pushing back the tears. She refused to cry over this. “One Thursday, I finished early at school; another teacher had called in sick, so my classes had been moved up. I thought I’d surprise Vivien, so I hurried to her house... Well, I surprised her all right.”
“She wasn’t...” Nell began, dreading the thought of what she was horribly sure was coming next.
“Yes. She was with another woman.” Hilda could keep the tears back no longer, and they rolled down her cheeks.
Jumping up, Nell perched herself on the arm of Hilda’s chair and hugged her.
“Oh, Hilda, I’m so sorry,” she murmured.
Taking out her handkerchief, Hilda determinedly dried her face. “I’m all right, really. It was a long time ago,” she said, patting Nell’s arm.
Nell squeezed her shoulder gently and released her, but remained where she was. “What did you do?” she demanded. “I’d have flown at her!”
“I really thought I was going to be sick, so I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in. Eventually, I heard the front door slam, and Vivien came to talk to me. I can’t tell you what she said...”
“It’s private, I understand,” Nell replied, but Hilda shook her head.
“It’s not that, really... it just... hurts too much.”
She could barely stand even to remember that last argument. ‘I’m sorry you found out like this, but you must have seen we weren’t going anywhere’... ‘We had fun, but it’s been over for a while now’... ‘Don’t be such a goose about it, it isn’t as if we were really serious’... Vivien’s words echoed in her head, and she felt the tears begin again. She’d been so much in love; to discover how little she had really meant to Vivien had broken her heart. Even now, years later, it still hurt.
Shoving the memories away, Hilda wiped her eyes again and looked at Nell, who was hugging her tightly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like this...”
“Cry as much as you need, and don’t you dare apologise,” Nell said fiercely. “If anyone should be saying sorry, it’s me, for making you talk about it.”
“You didn’t make me talk, you daft woman. I chose to tell you. Shall I go on?” she asked.
“Only if you want to,” Nell answered, looking at her seriously.
“There’s not much more to tell, really. Eventually I stormed off home... that night was enough to make me realise I couldn’t deal with it alone. I have no idea how I managed to teach the next day, but I got through it somehow. The moment I was done with school, I went to see Carrie.” She smiled slightly, remembering how kind her friend had been. “She insisted I stay with her that weekend, though I wasn’t exactly an amusing guest; I must have spent quite half the time just crying on her shoulder. She was kindness itself, and never once said ‘I told you so’, though honestly I deserved it.”
“No one would say it!” Nell retorted. “I’m glad you had her with you. But how could she do that to you?”
“How could who do what, Nell?” Hilda asked, her voice not quite as light as she wanted it.
“Must you criticise my English even now, Hilda?” Nell complained. “You know perfectly well who I mean! That - that - viper!” Utterly furious on her friend’s behalf, she began raining insults upon Vivien until Hilda stopped her.
“Nell! That’s enough!” she exclaimed. “I value the sentiment,” she continued more softly, “but I was afraid you might never stop.”
“I could go on for a while longer,” Nell admitted. “How could she hurt you so?”
“I don’t think she meant to,” Hilda replied fairly. “She didn’t realise how much I cared for her, and how badly I would be hurt.”
“Only you, Hilda, would defend her,” Nell said, shaking her head in wonder.
“I loved her,” Hilda replied simply. “That doesn’t just vanish.” She paused for a few seconds, remembering, then went on. “I didn’t want to stay in York after that, so I started looking for other posts. When I saw Madge’s advert it seemed like a dream come true. I applied for the place.... and the rest you know.”
“She didn’t deserve you,” Nell told her, her voice still full of anger.
Hilda sighed reminiscently. “Carrie said the same thing.”
“Good for Carrie! I like the sound of her,” Nell said decisively.
Hilda smiled up at her. “I think you would like each other if you met. If she ever comes back to England I’ll introduce you; she moved to South America when she married, and I haven’t seen her since, though we’ve kept in touch.”
“You must miss her.”
“I do... but I found another fine friend in Tirol,” Hilda replied, looking at her meaningfully, and Nell went red. “It was a good place to heal,” she added thoughtfully, before Nell could say anything.
Nell nearly jumped with the surprise of how close that came to her own thoughts. She had been wondering how many of the Staff had been escaping grief when they came to Austria. Herself, after her parents’ death... Hilda, after her heartbreak... were there others? Perhaps.
“It was,” she answered softly. “But Hilda, I’ve not been half as good a friend to you as you’ve been to me.”
“That I won’t agree to! You’re a wonderful friend, and I couldn’t ask for better. I couldn’t have told you all this if you weren’t.”
“Did it help? Talking about it?” Nell asked.
Hilda nodded slowly. “I hadn’t talked about it since it happened, but I can see now how much I needed to. Thank you for asking, and for listening.” She pressed Nell’s hands affectionately. “Now, shall we talk about something happier? We’re leaving tomorrow, and I’ve heard almost nothing about your holiday plans...”
Examining her friend’s expression, Nell followed the lead to change the subject, realising that it was what Hilda needed now. They passed what was left of the evening in quiet conversation, and bid each other farewell cheerfully enough the next morning.
Though sharing the stories of their heartbreak had helped them, there were still many lonely, tear-filled nights awaiting Nell during the holidays ahead, many moments of pain for Hilda as she finally laid the ghosts of her past relationship to rest. But through it all, both found strength and solace in the memory of those two evenings, in the happiness of having found such a friend.
