“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” she said bravely. She wasn’t fine, but she thought that eventually she would be. And she didn’t want to stand in his way or be a burden to him. She just thought that being a butler sounded like a crazy idea with no future.
“I’ll call them and see what they have to say,” he said, and didn’t mention it again for the rest of lunch. They went for a walk together that afternoon, as she used to do with Francois on a Sunday afternoon, strolling in the park. She didn’t say it to Joachim, but now she had to adjust to one more person she loved missing from her life. It had happened to her much too often. Joachim thought the same thing, as he tucked her hand into his arm, and they walked along in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. She was thinking of Francois, and Joachim was silently mourning his stepfather and his brother and musing about butler school again. It sounded like a crazy idea to him too, but he had nothing else to do, and a lifetime ahead of him, with no set career plan. It might be amusing for six months. And nothing else appealed to him at the moment. Growing older was just no fun without his twin brother and hadn’t been for eight years. He had always thought that Javier would settle down once he got out of his teens, and they would be close again. And instead, he had disappeared.
Chapter 2
When Joachim went to London to visit the butler school two weeks later, he was surprised by how seriously they took themselves. He had asked a friend in Paris who was a desk clerk at the Crillon to check out the school for him. The friend had reported that people in the catering department had heard of it, although they’d never hired anyone who’d trained there. They said the school was respected, but mostly trained people who wanted to work in fancy homes for fancy people, usually in England. So at least it was known and reputable. The question for Joachim was whether that was what he wanted to do when he grew up. And his mother had a point. Did he want to work in England? The weather there was even more miserable than in Paris, nothing like Argentina. He still missed the warm weather and atmosphere in Buenos Aires. South America had a style and energy to it and an innate joie de vivre, a kind of lively, sexy undertone that he had encountered nowhere in Europe. Maybe a little bit in Spain and Italy, but he still preferred Argentina, even though he didn’t plan to go back there. He lived in France now. He didn’t want to leave the only relative he had, his mother, to go back to live in a country with a brother he hadn’t seen in eight years, and probably never would again. Now that Francois was gone, Joachim didn’t want to abandon his mother, and leave her alone at her age. But the chilly formality of England didn’t seem too appealing either.
He went to the school and met with the admissions director. She was a thin-lipped, formal, uptight woman, who had him fill out a long questionnaire about his life experience so far, and why he thought he wanted to be a butler. She told him the school itself occupied two floors of a small house in Knightsbridge. There were proper classrooms, and a conference room set up with an enormously long dining table, where they practiced formal table settings and formal service. The students were all men, they wore white tie and tails in class, and were impeccable. Personal grooming was part of the course. Joachim thought it was funny, like a costume party. But no one else thought it was amusing. He was the only foreigner in the class. The other students were all English.
There was another room set up with every kind of silver serving piece imaginable, which students had to learn to identify infallibly. There was a class on the selection of proper wines, with regular tastings. There were seminars on running staff, and the proper hierarchy in a large formal house. There were still enough of them in England to make the school viable. And there was a class dedicated to running weekend house parties. In spite of wanting to laugh and make fun of it, Joachim was impressed after his visit. This was clearly a life choice, and a career, not simply something one did as a filler between odd jobs. It took concentration, skill, intelligence, and dedication.
The head of students Joachim met with was a tall, dignified, fierce-looking man, who had served in two of the great homes in England for thirty years, and had come to teach at the school when he retired. He explained that in the old days, young men started as hall boys in their teens and worked their way up to footman, then first footman in charge of the others, under-butler, and eventually butler. And by the time they reached the top, they knew their job inside and out. Nowadays, staffs were smaller, there were fewer opportunities to train, and they could learn in the school in six months of intense, diligent study what might have taken them ten years to learn in the past. After that, they needed experience on the job to practice what they’d learned.