down angrily at her feet. “Herr von Steinholz,” said Leonie, “I must demand complete control. Captain Kruger will answer to myself or my granddaughter. No one, Herr von Steinholz, runs this hotel except Mademoiselle de Courmont.”
Von Steinholz pursed his lips angrily. “You realise, of course, that we could simply requisition the hotel?”
Von Steinholz wanted the prestige of having Leonie Bahri and a de Courmont granddaughter running
his
hotel … and Leonie knew it. She stared back at him calmly.
“Oh, very well,” agreed von Steinholz. “Kruger, you hear that?” The young man’s eyes dropped from the ceiling to their level.
“Herr Kommandant,” he replied.
“You will work with these ladies, Kruger. They know more than you about running a hotel anyway. Standards must be kept up.”
Leonie noticed a glint of anger flash through the Captain’s eyes. The man was a small bureaucrat jumped up to a position of “assistant to power”—and longing for that power himself. Captain Kruger was a dangerous man.
“It’s understandable,” von Steinholz turned to Leonore with a superior smile, “that with Germans now running thede Courmont factories you might want to keep some small part of the family’s properties under your own control.”
It had been six months since they had heard from Gerard, though they knew about the take-over of the steel works and that the factories now produced vehicles and armaments for the Third Reich.
“My men will be here first thing in the morning. I bid you goodnight. It has been a pleasure meeting you both.” Von Steinholz strode towards the door, his footsteps ringing hollowly on the marble.
He paused by the great glass door, held open for him by the watchful Kruger. “Oh, and tell the little one—Peach—hiding behind her grandmother, that she has my permission to swim in the hotel pool at any time.”
“Grand-mère,” said Peach as Leonie unbuckled the brace from her leg that night as she prepared for bed. “Can we throw it into the sea now?”
Peach’s face was rosy with health, her soft, springy russet hair was held back with a scrap of ribbon and her dark blue eyes were round and serious.
Leonie paused, the ugly leather straps half-unbuckled. “The calliper you mean?”
Peach nodded.
“I know you hate it,” said Leonie, “but you need its support.” The right leg, unbuckled from its cage, was visibly thinner than its twin.
“No I don’t. I can walk on it.”
“Not properly, darling …”
“
I will
,” said Peach fiercely, “
Grand-mère, I will
. And I don’t want to swim in the pool with those men. I’ll never swim there again!”
Leonie had thought they’d come through this afternoon’sordeal unscathed, but it was little six-year-old Peach who had been damaged by their first encounter with the enemy.
Peach gazed at Leonie earnestly. “We’ll swim in the sea, Grand-mère,” she promised, putting a small consoling hand on Leonie’s shoulder. “They can’t stop us doing that, can they?”
How did she know, marvelled Leonie. How could she possibly understand the situation? But Peach had sensed the display of power in the clicking heels, the gleaming braid, the silent watching soldiers. Out of the mouths of babes … “Well,” she said briskly, “let’s get you tucked up in that nice comfy bed, and we’ll talk about this again in the morning.”
“
They’ll
be here in the morning,” said Peach, lying back against the pillows.
“It’ll never be the same here again
.”
8
Lais strolled down the rue Cambon dressed in a fashionable little spring suit. The navy wool skirt showed a split of silk piping to match the cream silk shirt with its jaunty bow, and the jacket, edged with a military glitter of braid and buttons, swung pertly as she walked. It was mere steps to the Ritz bar where her new love was waiting for her.
“Lais.” He waved from his seat at a crowded table at the far end of the bar as she threaded
Von Steinholz pursed his lips angrily. “You realise, of course, that we could simply requisition the hotel?”
Von Steinholz wanted the prestige of having Leonie Bahri and a de Courmont granddaughter running
his
hotel … and Leonie knew it. She stared back at him calmly.
“Oh, very well,” agreed von Steinholz. “Kruger, you hear that?” The young man’s eyes dropped from the ceiling to their level.
“Herr Kommandant,” he replied.
“You will work with these ladies, Kruger. They know more than you about running a hotel anyway. Standards must be kept up.”
Leonie noticed a glint of anger flash through the Captain’s eyes. The man was a small bureaucrat jumped up to a position of “assistant to power”—and longing for that power himself. Captain Kruger was a dangerous man.
“It’s understandable,” von Steinholz turned to Leonore with a superior smile, “that with Germans now running thede Courmont factories you might want to keep some small part of the family’s properties under your own control.”
It had been six months since they had heard from Gerard, though they knew about the take-over of the steel works and that the factories now produced vehicles and armaments for the Third Reich.
“My men will be here first thing in the morning. I bid you goodnight. It has been a pleasure meeting you both.” Von Steinholz strode towards the door, his footsteps ringing hollowly on the marble.
He paused by the great glass door, held open for him by the watchful Kruger. “Oh, and tell the little one—Peach—hiding behind her grandmother, that she has my permission to swim in the hotel pool at any time.”
“Grand-mère,” said Peach as Leonie unbuckled the brace from her leg that night as she prepared for bed. “Can we throw it into the sea now?”
Peach’s face was rosy with health, her soft, springy russet hair was held back with a scrap of ribbon and her dark blue eyes were round and serious.
Leonie paused, the ugly leather straps half-unbuckled. “The calliper you mean?”
Peach nodded.
“I know you hate it,” said Leonie, “but you need its support.” The right leg, unbuckled from its cage, was visibly thinner than its twin.
“No I don’t. I can walk on it.”
“Not properly, darling …”
“
I will
,” said Peach fiercely, “
Grand-mère, I will
. And I don’t want to swim in the pool with those men. I’ll never swim there again!”
Leonie had thought they’d come through this afternoon’sordeal unscathed, but it was little six-year-old Peach who had been damaged by their first encounter with the enemy.
Peach gazed at Leonie earnestly. “We’ll swim in the sea, Grand-mère,” she promised, putting a small consoling hand on Leonie’s shoulder. “They can’t stop us doing that, can they?”
How did she know, marvelled Leonie. How could she possibly understand the situation? But Peach had sensed the display of power in the clicking heels, the gleaming braid, the silent watching soldiers. Out of the mouths of babes … “Well,” she said briskly, “let’s get you tucked up in that nice comfy bed, and we’ll talk about this again in the morning.”
“
They’ll
be here in the morning,” said Peach, lying back against the pillows.
“It’ll never be the same here again
.”
8
Lais strolled down the rue Cambon dressed in a fashionable little spring suit. The navy wool skirt showed a split of silk piping to match the cream silk shirt with its jaunty bow, and the jacket, edged with a military glitter of braid and buttons, swung pertly as she walked. It was mere steps to the Ritz bar where her new love was waiting for her.
“Lais.” He waved from his seat at a crowded table at the far end of the bar as she threaded
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