consumed his countrymen. France would rise again; it had to. It was not a matter of God. It was a matter of justice. He had made up his mind and it felt good.
2
It was raining again as Auguste stepped from the car. For once, he did not care. He walked to his front door. A certain levity crept into his step, an elevation of his mood. He knew he was right and believed his God was there, helping him. He had never felt the presence of his God so strong, so emotive, before.
Odette greeted him in the hallway. She threw her arms about his neck and her lips sought his. It felt like a rekindling of their adolescent love. He was surprised, but his feelings for her made it an expression of pleasure. He thought there was nothing in his world like the embrace of the woman he loved.
‘Auguste, I was so worried.’
‘Why?’
‘If anyone came to the house, what do I do with Monique? We have nowhere to hide her. All day it has been worrying me.’
‘I have been thinking. It is no good using the woods. We need a place where she will be able to hide for hours at a time. The woods are no good. It is freezing. I need to make a place of safety here in the house.’
‘But how?’
‘Call the girls and we will discuss it.’
‘The girls?
‘Of course. They are the instruments of the deception. They must know all about it.’
Within minutes, the four of them sat at the kitchen table to plan a hiding place.
Zara said, ‘Papa, we can lift the floorboards and make a place there.’
‘No ma fleur, it would be uncomfortable and Monique could not lie there for a long time. I think we should use the attic. We have a better chance then.’
‘The attic?’ Odette said.
‘Yes the gable end would be a good hiding place. I can brick it up, a few feet from where it ends and no one would know.’
‘And the bricks? Where would you get them?’
‘I cannot buy them. It would be noticed. I can dismantle the out-house. There must be enough bricks then.’
‘If she hides there, will she not be stuck behind the wall? She could not live in such a way. If anything happens to us she might be left there.’
‘Calm yourself,’ Auguste said, ‘I can make a door, faced with brick. Let’s eat and then I will start work. Until it is done, the woods will have to do. We must be disciplined and strong.’
Odette looked at Auguste. She reached out and her hand descended upon his.
‘Auguste, you are a good man.’
Something happened then. He felt a stab of pain. It was mental, not physical, as if some outside force had prodded his soul.
He said, ‘I have no idea what goodness is. I know some men are good and it is obvious. There are others whom no one would recognise as anything but evil. Where I and my life fit into the scheme of things, I cannot tell. I want to be what you think I am, but my conscience is so weak. I have orders from an evil master, orders to cause the death and destruction of innocent people. I cannot save them all. I will try to do what I can, but death stalks me and I cannot stop it. I beg our Lord in Heaven to forgive me.’
Auguste looked from face to face around the table. The emotions tugging at his heart were so powerful he felt they threatened to overwhelm him. He noticed the tears forming in his eyes. He wiped his nose on his sleeve. He felt a breath cut short and realised he was sobbing.
‘Papa, don’t cry,’ Zara said. She rose and came to him, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned and embraced her and felt again the feeling he experienced in his heart after her nightmare. He reached for her not in body but in soul. His love overtook him then and he closed his eyes, feeling the depth of that love within him. Great fear and emotion seemed to Auguste, to be transformed to joy, as if love had converted everything to a bright white feeling arising out of the deep blackness of despair.
Monique said, ‘Uncle, Are you frightened?’
Again, he wiped his face on his sleeve.
‘Oh Monique. I
2
It was raining again as Auguste stepped from the car. For once, he did not care. He walked to his front door. A certain levity crept into his step, an elevation of his mood. He knew he was right and believed his God was there, helping him. He had never felt the presence of his God so strong, so emotive, before.
Odette greeted him in the hallway. She threw her arms about his neck and her lips sought his. It felt like a rekindling of their adolescent love. He was surprised, but his feelings for her made it an expression of pleasure. He thought there was nothing in his world like the embrace of the woman he loved.
‘Auguste, I was so worried.’
‘Why?’
‘If anyone came to the house, what do I do with Monique? We have nowhere to hide her. All day it has been worrying me.’
‘I have been thinking. It is no good using the woods. We need a place where she will be able to hide for hours at a time. The woods are no good. It is freezing. I need to make a place of safety here in the house.’
‘But how?’
‘Call the girls and we will discuss it.’
‘The girls?
‘Of course. They are the instruments of the deception. They must know all about it.’
Within minutes, the four of them sat at the kitchen table to plan a hiding place.
Zara said, ‘Papa, we can lift the floorboards and make a place there.’
‘No ma fleur, it would be uncomfortable and Monique could not lie there for a long time. I think we should use the attic. We have a better chance then.’
‘The attic?’ Odette said.
‘Yes the gable end would be a good hiding place. I can brick it up, a few feet from where it ends and no one would know.’
‘And the bricks? Where would you get them?’
‘I cannot buy them. It would be noticed. I can dismantle the out-house. There must be enough bricks then.’
‘If she hides there, will she not be stuck behind the wall? She could not live in such a way. If anything happens to us she might be left there.’
‘Calm yourself,’ Auguste said, ‘I can make a door, faced with brick. Let’s eat and then I will start work. Until it is done, the woods will have to do. We must be disciplined and strong.’
Odette looked at Auguste. She reached out and her hand descended upon his.
‘Auguste, you are a good man.’
Something happened then. He felt a stab of pain. It was mental, not physical, as if some outside force had prodded his soul.
He said, ‘I have no idea what goodness is. I know some men are good and it is obvious. There are others whom no one would recognise as anything but evil. Where I and my life fit into the scheme of things, I cannot tell. I want to be what you think I am, but my conscience is so weak. I have orders from an evil master, orders to cause the death and destruction of innocent people. I cannot save them all. I will try to do what I can, but death stalks me and I cannot stop it. I beg our Lord in Heaven to forgive me.’
Auguste looked from face to face around the table. The emotions tugging at his heart were so powerful he felt they threatened to overwhelm him. He noticed the tears forming in his eyes. He wiped his nose on his sleeve. He felt a breath cut short and realised he was sobbing.
‘Papa, don’t cry,’ Zara said. She rose and came to him, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned and embraced her and felt again the feeling he experienced in his heart after her nightmare. He reached for her not in body but in soul. His love overtook him then and he closed his eyes, feeling the depth of that love within him. Great fear and emotion seemed to Auguste, to be transformed to joy, as if love had converted everything to a bright white feeling arising out of the deep blackness of despair.
Monique said, ‘Uncle, Are you frightened?’
Again, he wiped his face on his sleeve.
‘Oh Monique. I
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