The summer holidays
The final section of Pigtails and Pernod takes place during the summer holidays of Simona's second year at drama school, at a time when the English community in Dieppe was diminishing in the years leading up to war. Families were returning to England, 'colonels were cutting down on their drinks...Marie was getting fewer orders for new dresses': it all paints a picture of a town in decline.
But these chapters are not all doom and gloom, as Simona is finally deemed old enough to enjoy the Dieppe nightlife alone. We finally get to experience the Casino after dark - no longer just the home of tea dances and music recitals but also of dance bands and cocktails. Johnny is still in Dieppe and his knowledge of all the residents and their foibles allows him to provide a vetting service for Simona's potential dance partners, whispering his advice (accept the request to dance; dance, but don't let him take you onto the terrace; decline, you are absolutely engaged) as any young men approached.
But even the Casino has seen a change: 'the few remaining aristocrats in Dieppe had put the vulgar new Casino out of bounds except for bathing, morning cocktails or a respectable visit to the opera...if they wanted dancing...the impoverished English...had no alternative but to shut their children up at night or resign themselves to allowing them to mix with the hoi polloi.'
It is during these summer holidays that Simona has her first taste of Pernod, with the niece of a family friend. Miss Skilbeck 'had the healthy out-of-doors look that belonged, in my experience, chiefly to games mistresses.' A shopping trip used as an excuse to escape a family trip to the beach took rather an unexpected turn as Miss Skilbeck showed a rather different side to her personality.
It reminds me of the comment early in the book about Eliza considering her and Ginny's daily two glasses of porto as a 'unprecedented debauch' that Simona shows such a mix of shock and excitement at being in the Cafe des Tribunaux during the day to begin with, let alone trying Pernod, which 'rots your guts', according to her grandparents. Especially as the Simona I knew was very fond of a very strong drink, and never had any qualms about alcohol at any time of the day! She follows with a detailed description of that first sampling of the drink, the ritual of mixing it with ice and water to your taste, and the affect of the alcohol - sending her first into an almost meditative state and then an unsteadiness on her feet as she returned home.
It is also in these final chapters that we first encounter Walter Sickert; the artist was a former resident of Dieppe who drew Ginny and Eliza in their younger years, although Ginny only allowed herself to be painted back view. He is mistaken by Helene, the cook, for a tramp as he arrives in a somewhat disheveled state of dress, staying with the family for a few days as he returned to Dieppe for the funeral of a 'fishwife' with whom he had lodged, and about whom there was much gossip, only to be reignited by his return to pay his final respects.
The change that has been in the air throughout this section of the book - the financial benefits of ex-pat living deteriorating due to tax changes on both sides of the channel, and the augurs of war - finally have their impact on the Fields and the decision is made to sell the Chalet and return to England. The dissolution of the English community has a far wider impact than just on the families themselves; the servants working for the English were far better paid than those working for the French families, and fewer families would want or need staff in future years. For Helene and Lucie, the cook and maid at the Chalet, a happy future awaited (Lucie was finally to marry her fiance Marcel, something she said would only happen if the family left Dieppe, and Helene became the cook for the Fairbankses, who were remaining in France), but there were many more who had a more uncertain future to face.
I visited Dieppe twice with my family as a child. I'd love to return again now, to see it with a different perspective, to find the Chalet and the Villa Duquesne, walk through the town centre and along the promenade as my ancestors did and to enjoy an aperitif at the Cafe des Tribunaux (but not Pernod I'm afraid, there are some limits to what I will do for this project!). The town has been brought to life through reading this book and whilst I know much has changed, and often not for the better, visiting seems to be a necessary part of connecting with my family history.