Chapter 8
‘I always knew he had it in him!’ Letizia smiled
in delight as she brandished the school report in front of her
husband’s eyes when he returned from the courthouse. Carlos took
the report and read it through while his family sat round the table
expectantly. The two years at Abbot Rocco’s school appeared to have
paid off.Two years and two more children, Carlos reflected. In
addition to Giuseppe and Naboleone there were now three more mouths
to feed: Lucien, Elisa and young Louis, who had yet to master the
correct application of cutlery and was busy trying to stick the
handle of a spoon up his nose.
Abbot Rocco was extremely complimentary about
Naboleone’s progress. The boy had excelled in maths and history but
as ever, his performance in arts subjects and languages was lagging
well behind. His behaviour had improved too - far fewer tantrums
and fights with the other boys - and while he still tended to
question authority from time to time, on the whole he was causing
no problems. Carlos laid the sheet of paper down and nodded slowly
at his son.
‘Most respectable. Well done.’
Naboleone’s eyes sparkled with pleasure.
‘Father!’ Giuseppe piped up. ‘Read my
report!’
‘Where is it?’
‘Here.’ Letizia lifted it up from the chopping
board and handed it to her husband. ‘No surprises there.’
It took far less time to read about the older boy’s
academic progress. Giuseppe was a kind, considerate and polite boy
who was making good progress in every subject and seemed to show a
particular interest in ecclesiastical matters. Carlos laid the
report down on top of Naboleone’s.
‘Well done, boys. I’m proud of you both. Giuseppe,
have you considered a career in the Church? It would seem to suit
you.’
‘I had thought of it, Father.’
Letizia nodded. ‘A good career. You have the
temperament for it.’
‘Do I?’
‘Oh, yes.’
As Giuseppe smiled at her, Carlos turned to his
younger son. ‘And you, Naboleone, what do you want to be when you
grow up?’
‘A soldier,’ he said without an instant’s
hesitation.
Carlos smiled. ‘That’s an admirable aim, my son. I
think you might make an excellent soldier, although you must
realise that you will have to obey orders.’
‘But, Father, I want to give orders, not obey
them.’
‘Well then, you must be prepared to do both if you
are to be a good soldier.’
‘Oh . . .’
Letizia began to serve up the evening meal: a rich
stew of goat and stewed hazelnuts - a favourite recipe of the
family. When every bowl was filled she took her place and the
children fell silent, closed their eyes and pressed their hands
together as Carlos said grace. As the children started eating she
looked down the table at her husband.
‘Has there been any word on the boys’
scholarships?’
‘No. I’ve heard nothing from the academy at
Montpellier. It looks as if they’ll be going to Autun after
all.’
Letizia frowned. ‘Autun?’
‘Autun will do to start with,’ Carlos said.‘They
have good links with some of the military schools. If Naboleone
wants to join the army it would be a good start for him until I can
find a better opening. I sent an application to Brienne this
morning.’
‘That’s all very well,’ Letizia said quietly, ‘but
even if the boys do get the scholarships, how can we afford to pay
the balance of the fees?’
‘We might not have to,’ Carlos continued. ‘The
governor has promised to pay our share of the fees.’
Letizia froze for a moment, then shook her head.
‘To think we have sunk so low as to accept common charity.’
‘It’s not charity, my dear,’ Carlos said, forcing
himself to keep his tone even. ‘He places great value on our
service to France.’
‘Oh, I’m sure he does.’
‘Besides, he can easily afford it and we can’t. It
would not be very gracious to refuse his offer.’
‘Huh!’
Letizia continued eating for a while before she
addressed her husband again. ‘Do you really think it’s for the
best?’
‘Yes. Their future is in France. That’s their best
hope for advancement. So, that’s where they must be
educated.’
‘But they’ll leave home. When will we see them
again?’
‘I don’t know,’ Carlos replied. ‘When we can afford
it, we can have the boys home for holidays, or travel to see
them.’
‘And how will they cope without me?’
‘Ask them,’ he said firmly. ‘See what they think.
Naboleone!’
‘Father?’
‘Do you want to go to school in France?’
The boy glanced quickly at his mother. ‘If I must .
. .’
Carlos looked at him, and smiled. ‘Bravo! See,
Letizia, he understands.’
‘But I don’t.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘I don’t
understand what I have done that my children should want to leave
me before they have even grown up. Leave home and forget me.’
‘Mother,’ Naboleone spoke earnestly, ‘I shall never
forget you. I will come back as often as I can. I swear it.
Giuseppe too.’ He turned to his older brother. ‘Swear it!’
‘I promise, Mother.’
She shrugged her thin shoulders. ‘We’ll see.’