Liese continued working after Francois died, with no intention of retiring. More than ever, she needed her job now. It gave her some purpose in life, a place to go every day, and contact with people. She was doing some good, or trying to, tracking down art and returning it to people who had been so severely wronged. She felt as though she was part of some form of justice, compensating in some small degree for all that had been lost or taken from them, most of it so enormous that no one could ever really make it up to them. But what she was able to return to them gave them something, and in some cases, with important works of art, it gave them an object of great monetary value. She was only a child when most of the art had been taken from them, or their relatives, during the war, but at least as an adult, she could be part of the restitution. It was very meaningful work for her, and she was proud of what she was doing. And Francois had been proud of her.
Joachim was shocked that Francois had left him anything at all and was deeply touched by it. Two months after he died, with his new inheritance, Joachim was having Sunday lunch with his mother at her apartment and saw an ad in the newspaper that intrigued him. He folded the paper and handed it to his mother, who looked at the page blankly. She couldn’t see why he had shown it to her. She didn’t see anything of interest.
“What am I supposed to look at?” she asked. They were both still shocked to have lost Francois, and Joachim had been checking on her a lot, to make sure she was all right. They were both doing the best they could to get used to it. He had been a benevolent force in both their lives, a truly kind and loving man. And Joachim knew how lonely she was without him.
Joachim pointed to the newspaper. It was a fairly large ad for a butler school in England.
“That?” She looked surprised and he nodded. “Butler school? Why would you want to do that?” It sounded like another dead end to her, like all the jobs he had had since he’d dropped out of the Sorbonne.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I do. But it sounds like fun, at least for a while anyway. Like a part in a movie.” He was twenty-five years old, and wanted a job that was fun, and so far none had been. He had no passions, like his mother’s love of art, or Francois’s. All he had was a bright mind, the strength of youth, and the fact that he spoke four languages, which wasn’t unusual in Europe. Many people did.
“You don’t need a part in a movie,” she said, frowning. “You need a real job, a career, something you’ll want to do at forty or fifty. Why would you want to be a butler? What gave you that idea?”
“The ad makes it sound interesting. You learn to run a fine home, have a supervisory position over other staff, how to take care of silver, fine porcelain, and antiques, and impeccable service, how to serve at table. It sounds like a very varied and responsible job.”
“Those days are gone,” she reminded him. “Everyone had formal staff, in full uniform, in Argentina when I was a girl. I’m sure no one there does now. And I don’t think anyone has a butler here either.”
“They have them in England. That’s where the school is. The course lasts six months, it might be fun.”
“Would you want to work in England?” She was surprised. He was so Latin by nature. He’d been in France for eight years by then and was at home there.
“I don’t know where I want to work, or what I want to do. But I’ve got time to spare. I’m only twenty-five, Mom. I can afford to waste six months of my life, especially now, thanks to Francois.” He was frustrated by his own lack of direction, but nothing interested him and there was nothing he wanted to do.
“I don’t think he intended the money for you to study for a job you’ll never want.”
“Maybe I will want it. Maybe being the head man in a grand house would be interesting.”
“You need to do more in life than learn how to set a table,” she said sternly.
“I don’t think I’d mind a life of service. I kind of like the idea of keeping people’s lives in good order. I wouldn’t mind that at all, especially if the house is impressive. I have nothing else to do at the moment, and shoving furniture around at the auction house has no future either. It’s a laborer’s job. I don’t like leaving you, though. I could come home on weekends, while I’m taking the course.”