Topaz - Leon Uris [108]
She returned with Michele to France to join André in Montrichard as he plunged into the business of preserving the family fortunes.
The backlash of war had created a listless French people who had lost much of their pride and ambition. They were lethargic and exhausted by wars and defeats. The land was neglected and the machinery obsolete.
A small but elite Devereaux winery and some scattered resources proved solid, but many of the other Devereaux holdings had become liabilities. André and his father consolidated and reorganized as best they could and were able to retain the magnificent family home and enough income to support it.
But after his adventures during the war, Montrichard seemed a dull affair. Nonetheless André, as the heir and dutiful son, was determined to adjust and carry on.
Nicole was particularly unsuited for country life and after a time became vocal about her discontent, which increased as she became pregnant again. Petty squabbles came with the morning sickness, and soon there were full-dress arguments.
As if by prearranged fortune, Jacques Granville made a hearty and welcome appearance over a weekend with his new, second wife, heiress of a banking fortune. Jacques’ first marriage, which he claimed really didn’t count, had been in Algeria during the war. It was barely decently consummated between Jacques’ liaison missions for General La Croix, and was dissolved along with other peace treaties of the times.
“André, damn it, you’re rotting here,” Jacques said when the two comrades were alone.
“Of course, you’re right,” André answered. “Strange, all during the war I dreamed of nothing but returning to Montrichard and the quiet life. But what’s the use of lying to myself? Everything here has grown small. And what is more, Nicole hates it.”
“Yes, we all enlarge our memory of home. Then when we return, it is so small.”
“Anyhow,” André said, “things are stabilized here. If this American Marshall Plan works, perhaps France will snap out of its funk. I want to start building again.”
“For what?”
“Generations of Devereaux have always built in Montrichard ... for the coming generations of Devereaux, I suppose.”
“I know we worship tradition,” Jacques said, “but hasn’t the day really come that a Devereaux leaves home?”
“It’s just not done,” André answered.
“André, opportunity is calling ... begging. Pierre La Croix has placed himself above partisan politics. He waits in the wings for the people to summon and, believe me, the way France continues to flounder, he will receive his summons. La Croix will lead an awakening. Those of us smart enough to be on the inside now and stay with him will be calling the shots later.”
“You know, Jacques, I’ve always had misgivings about the General’s personal ambitions.”
“Reality, André, reality. No one but La Croix can pull France together.”
André grunted. “Unfortunately, you are right.”
“Then deal yourself in now. You’re an intelligence man. The Secret Service is in a shambles and will have to be rebuilt from the ground up. For the right kind of loyalty now, you can be one of the top people in France when the General takes over. What is more important is Nicole’s happiness. You have a family now, and in this case she’s right. She belongs in Paris and so do you.”
“Jacques, if I ever go, it will be because I want to return to the service. I will not declare for La Croix.”
“Then come now and make your mind up about the other later.”
The elder Devereaux accepted the departure of his son with good grace.
André entered the Secret Service earmarked as one of its bright young leaders. Working in the reorganization, he helped section after section return to professional respectability in a few short months.
But then, true to the tradition of the French civil services, the ranks became cluttered with mediocrities, bureaucrats, and opportunists.
André detested the constant tug and pull of internal service politics which weakened the efficiency of the entire organization.