But he nodded agreement, without shame. “What a victory for France.”
By then Marie-Ange had joined her sister, and the two girls were hopping up and down with glee. “Can we go on board now, Papa? Can we? Can we?”
Liane took them each by the hand, and Armand busied himself giving orders to the porter and the chauffeur, and five minutes later they passed through the enormous archway marked COMPAGNIE GÉNÉRALE TRANSATLANTIQUE, and stepped into an elevator that took them to an elevated section of the quay. There were three separate entrances for the 1,972 passengers who would come aboard, discreetly separate and labeled PREMIÉRE CLASSE, TOURISTE, and CABINE. “Premiére classe” was first of course, and there would be 864 passengers entering through that archway before the ship sailed that afternoon. And when Armand, Liane, and the girls stepped onto the Normandie's deck, it was shortly after noon. They had left Washington at 5:00 A.M., by train, and reached New York half an hour before. They had been met by a limousine from the Consulate in New York and whisked directly to Pier 88, on West 50th Street.
“Bonjour, monsieur, madame.” The uniformed officer smiled down at the two impeccably dressed little girls in matching pale-blue organdy dresses with white gloves and straw hats and shining black patent leather shoes. “Mesdemoiselles, bienvenue à bord.” He looked pleasantly at Armand then. The young officer loved his job, and in the years that he had been assigned to checking passengers on board, he had met Thomas Mann, Stokowski, Giraudoux, Saint-Exupéry, movie stars such as Douglas Fairbanks, heads of states, giants of the literary world, cardinals and sinners, and crowned heads from almost every European country. It was exciting just waiting for them to say their names, if one did not recognize them at first glance, which, more often than not, he did. “Monsieur?”
“De Villiers,” Armand said quietly.
“Ambassadeur?” the young man inquired, and Armand confirmed it with a silent nod.
“Ah, bien sûr.” Of course. He noted as he glanced at his passenger list again that the De Villierses would be occupying one of the ship's four most luxurious suites. He had no way of knowing that it was a courtesy of the “Transat,” as the CGT was called, and he was impressed to realize that the ambassador and his family would be occupying the Grand Luxe suite Trouville. “We will show you to your cabin at once.” He signaled to a steward who materialized at his side and immediately took Liane's small carrying bag. The rest of their trunks had been sent ahead several days before, and what they had brought with them on the train would meet them in their stateroom only moments after they reached it themselves. The service on the Normandie was supreme.
The Trouville suite was on the promenade deck, and it was one of two suites available on that deck, with a promenade of its own, looking out over the handsome open air space of the Café-Grill. There were benches and lamps, and the stairways and railings formed a graceful design as Armand glanced down from their private terrace. Inside, there were four large elegant bedrooms, one for Liane and himself, one for each of the girls, and one for their nurse as well.
There were additional rooms available on the same deck for extra servants they might have brought along. One of these was needed for Armand's male assistant, Jacques Perrier, who was traveling on the ship as well, so that Armand could continue his work. But the rest of the “studios” would not be used by them, and would be kept locked. The only other inhabitants of this rarefied upper deck would be the family in the Deauville suite, which was identical to the Trouville in its grandeur and expense, but in no way similar to the De Villierses' suite of rooms. Each first-class cabin on the ship was done in an entirely different decor, with no repetitions from suite to suite. Down to the last detail, each single room was totally unique. And as Armand and Liane looked around their suite, their eyes met, and Liane began to laugh. It was so outrageously extravagant, so elegant, so beautiful, that she felt as excited as their girls.
“Alors, ma chérie.” He smiled at her as the steward left them in the main foyer, standing beside the promised baby grand piano. “Qu'en penses-tu?” What do you think? What could she think? It was a miraculous place to spend five days, five weeks … five months … five years…. One would like to stay aboard the Normandie forever. And she could see in her husband's eyes that he thought so too.
“It's incredible.” All around them, on their way aboard, they had noticed the lavish art deco motif, the rich woods, handsome sculptures, enormous glass panels everywhere. It was beyond being a floating hotel, but more like a floating city of perfection, where absolutely nothing was out of sync, and everything one saw was a caress to the eye. She sat down on a dark-green velvet couch and giggled at Armand. “Are you sure I'm not dreaming? You won't wake me up, and we'll be back in Washington?”
“No, my love.” He sat down beside his wife. “It's all true.”
“But this suite, Armand, I cringe to think what it must cost!”
“I told you, they upgraded us from the deluxe rooms I had reserved.” He looked victorious again as he smiled at his wife. It pleased him to make her happy, and it was obvious that she was as overwhelmed as he. In her years of traveling with her father, she had seen great luxury, but this was something more, something totally remarkable and unique. Just to be on the Normandie, for a moment, one felt like a part of history. It was easy to believe that there would never again be a ship quite like this, and that people would be talking about it for years and years. “Would you like a drink, Liane?” He opened double wood-paneled doors to reveal an enormous well-stocked bar, and Liane stared at it and then him.
“Good God! You could float the ship on all of that!” But as she spoke he opened a bottle of Dom Pérignon champagne. He poured her a glass and held it out, turning to pour one for himself as well, and then while standing looking at his beautiful wife, he raised his glass, his eyes on hers, and toasted her. “To two of the world's most beautiful ladies … La Normandie … et ma femme.“ The ship, and his wife. Liane looked happy as she took a sip of the sparkling wine, and then she came to stand beside him. It felt like a honeymoon again, and she had to remind herself that the girls were in the next room.
“Shall we take a walk and look around?” Armand asked.
“Do you think the girls will be all right?”
He looked at her in amusement and then laughed. “Here? I think they'll manage.” And Mademoiselle was already helping them to unpack their toys and dolls, as the trunks had been waiting in their rooms.
“I know exactly what I want to see.”
“And what is that?” He watched her run a comb through her long blond hair, and felt a pang of lust for her. He had been so busy in recent weeks, he had scarcely seen her. It seemed as though they never had time to be together. But hopefully, on the ship, they would have time to stroll, wandering from deck to deck, and to chat as they had enjoyed doing so much for the past ten years. He felt lonely when he didn't have enough time to talk to her. But on this trip, he had promised himself, he and Jacques Perrier would only work from nine to noon, and the rest of the time he would be free. The trip was of course a rare opportunity for Perrier as well. A young man of about Liane's own age, he would normally have traveled back to France on a lesser ship, and in second class. But this time, as a reward for his five years of devoted work, Armand had intervened on his behalf, a special discount was obtained, and it was possible for him to make the crossing on the Normandie with them. Liane had been pleased for Jacques at the news, but now she hoped that he would find his own pursuits. Like Armand, she was hungry for them to have some time alone together. And she knew that the girls would have plenty to do, with the swimming pool, the children's recreation rooms, the kennels, where they could visit the traveling dogs, the puppet theater, and the cinema. There was lots for them to do, and, hopefully, for Jacques too. Liane asked Armand as they left the suite if he thought Jacques might already be on board.