Coco Chanel_ An Intimate Life - Lisa Chaney [65]
In the first flush of their affair, Arthur’s need for conquest was temporarily held in check, but it wasn’t long before his compulsion had asserted itself once again. As for Gabrielle, she apparently felt reassured in the belief that she was Arthur’s only real love. Saying she felt no jealousy, she even asked him who his other lovers might be. But Arthur’s tastes ranged wide, and he laughed and told Gabrielle that her knowing would only make his life more complicated than he had already made it.1
In addition to these private “complications,” Gabrielle’s lover managed his fleet of ships and his now enormous coal interests and ceaselessly shuttled between the front, Paris and London. Yet whatever his work-related absences or the brief spells in other women’s arms, Arthur always returned to Gabrielle, his most significant companion.
By the beginning of 1916, when the war showed no sign of ending, Arthur’s experiences had stimulated his interest in a more political role. Accordingly, in March, he requested permission to resign his intelligence service commission in the hope of being taken on as a liaison officer instead. He had made it his business to become acquainted with both politicians and senior commanders in the French and British armies. Perhaps with a nudge from someone high up, the British War Office wrote to the commander in chief of the British army in France saying that Arthur wished “to go to Paris in order to carry out his ordinary business. It is probable that this . . . may involve his participation in French political affairs. In these circumstances it would be very inadvisable for him to retain his . . . commission and the status of a ‘British Officer on leave.’”2 It appears that there were also more personal reasons for Arthur’s resignation of his commission. Working in such a stressful occupation near the battlefields of the front—and the death of his friend Hamilton-Grace, for which he held himself responsible—had reduced him to a state of emotional exhaustion. “His health broke down and he had to resign his inter-pretership in the field” was how a commentator would put it.3 Either Arthur himself, or a doctor, had recognized that in order to recover, he must take a job away from the front.
Arthur’s chaotic times and privileged background had made him a worldly skeptic who, until the war, had pretty much done what he wanted. He had, after all, described himself to Gabrielle as a cheerful pessimist whose dictum “One does not have to hope in order to undertake” had enabled him to sign up for active service without much conviction. Yet the appalling suffering and loss of life he had witnessed had not reduced Arthur to a state of bitterness and demoralization. Instead, his religious faith had provoked in him a renewed sense of hope. Ironically, this change was to set in motion a series of grievous results.
For the moment, however, Arthur did believe in a future, and in a utopian spirit away from the front, he set out to write a book. He often showed Gabrielle what he was writing.
By the end of that year, 1916, Gabrielle was becoming more self-reliant. Her business was so prosperous she chose to return all of the three hundred thousand francs Arthur