am frightened for us all. I will protect you. We are all together here, a family. You are part of our family until Pierre returns. Frightened? Yes. But we will all together, make a place of safety upstairs and we will keep you safe.’
‘Will the Germans catch me, Uncle?’
‘No, my child. We will hide you and when this stupid war is finished, your father will come home. I am sorry if I make you scared. Are you frightened too?’
‘No uncle, but I wish my Maman was here.’
He saw tears in her eyes and he realised expressing his own feelings to this child was wrong.
Odette reached for her and as he held onto his daughter, she held on to Monique.
She said, ‘Monique, my darling girl, I loved your mother for many years. I will give you my love too. You are part of this family now. You belong with us and we will all love you.’
‘Auntie,’ Monique said, ‘I need to say prayers sometimes. Father taught me to. I don’t want to go to the church.’
Auguste, recovered now, said, ‘Monique, you will do exactly as Pierre taught you. I cannot help you with it. On Sundays, we will go to church and you will remain here and say your prayers as you can remember them. It will be fine, don’t worry. We will be like little bears in a den. One family.’
She looked at him and said nothing. Perhaps the enormity of the risk had finally come home to her too, or maybe, Auguste wondered, the absence of her only living parent insinuated itself in her mind, but she said, ‘I am only nine years old Uncle, but Papa told me about it all. He said you would help me.’
‘I am the one appointed to the task it seems, little one. We, as a family will not let you down, but you must learn to hide. It will be a kind of game for us to play. They will seek and we will hide, no? Now you two girls get off to bed and I will eat then start work on a hiding place to fool all those silly Germans.’
They sat for an hour after he ate, talking about the war and the dangers ahead until Auguste closed the back door behind him and strode through the icy drizzle to begin his task of demolishing his brick out-house.
Chapter 5
1
Auguste cursed the rain as he walked from his battered Citroën towards the Prefecture. Three hours sleep was all he had managed as he toiled into the small hours cleaning bricks and carrying them up into the loft. He drew his collar around his neck and pulled his hat forward as he passed the empty bakery window. He resolved to speak to Jules and find work for Bernadette. He was still scared but thinking about the work he embarked upon the previous night calmed him. At least he was doing something.
By the time he reached the desolate cafe, he noticed the crowd. They had gathered in front of the Prefecture and he recognised faces as the gathering grew. He wondered what the fuss was about and pushed his way to the front. Claude Desour, his second in command, was there and the desk sergeant, George, tried to press away the accumulating crowd.
Auguste pushed through the gathering of townsfolk and realised they were staring at something on the ground.
‘Claude,’ he said, ‘What’s...’
He stopped. A feeling of irritation struck him first. A naked body lay face down on the cobbles. No one could mistake the body of a young woman, shapely even in death, limbs twisted into the unnatural pose only the flight of mortality could imbue. He looked around and realised his men were clearing the area around the body and forcing the crowd to keep a respectful distance, despite their curiosity.
‘All right, all right,’ he said in loud tones and raising his arms to the crowd, ‘please go home, we will care for her now.’
He turned to Claude and said, ‘What has happened?’
Claude shrugged. He said, ‘It is as you see. A man came in and called George, saying there was a body.’
‘What time was that?’
‘Ten minutes ago.’
‘You’ve called the city pathologist?’
‘I have called no one yet. I was keeping the crowd
‘Will the Germans catch me, Uncle?’
‘No, my child. We will hide you and when this stupid war is finished, your father will come home. I am sorry if I make you scared. Are you frightened too?’
‘No uncle, but I wish my Maman was here.’
He saw tears in her eyes and he realised expressing his own feelings to this child was wrong.
Odette reached for her and as he held onto his daughter, she held on to Monique.
She said, ‘Monique, my darling girl, I loved your mother for many years. I will give you my love too. You are part of this family now. You belong with us and we will all love you.’
‘Auntie,’ Monique said, ‘I need to say prayers sometimes. Father taught me to. I don’t want to go to the church.’
Auguste, recovered now, said, ‘Monique, you will do exactly as Pierre taught you. I cannot help you with it. On Sundays, we will go to church and you will remain here and say your prayers as you can remember them. It will be fine, don’t worry. We will be like little bears in a den. One family.’
She looked at him and said nothing. Perhaps the enormity of the risk had finally come home to her too, or maybe, Auguste wondered, the absence of her only living parent insinuated itself in her mind, but she said, ‘I am only nine years old Uncle, but Papa told me about it all. He said you would help me.’
‘I am the one appointed to the task it seems, little one. We, as a family will not let you down, but you must learn to hide. It will be a kind of game for us to play. They will seek and we will hide, no? Now you two girls get off to bed and I will eat then start work on a hiding place to fool all those silly Germans.’
They sat for an hour after he ate, talking about the war and the dangers ahead until Auguste closed the back door behind him and strode through the icy drizzle to begin his task of demolishing his brick out-house.
Chapter 5
1
Auguste cursed the rain as he walked from his battered Citroën towards the Prefecture. Three hours sleep was all he had managed as he toiled into the small hours cleaning bricks and carrying them up into the loft. He drew his collar around his neck and pulled his hat forward as he passed the empty bakery window. He resolved to speak to Jules and find work for Bernadette. He was still scared but thinking about the work he embarked upon the previous night calmed him. At least he was doing something.
By the time he reached the desolate cafe, he noticed the crowd. They had gathered in front of the Prefecture and he recognised faces as the gathering grew. He wondered what the fuss was about and pushed his way to the front. Claude Desour, his second in command, was there and the desk sergeant, George, tried to press away the accumulating crowd.
Auguste pushed through the gathering of townsfolk and realised they were staring at something on the ground.
‘Claude,’ he said, ‘What’s...’
He stopped. A feeling of irritation struck him first. A naked body lay face down on the cobbles. No one could mistake the body of a young woman, shapely even in death, limbs twisted into the unnatural pose only the flight of mortality could imbue. He looked around and realised his men were clearing the area around the body and forcing the crowd to keep a respectful distance, despite their curiosity.
‘All right, all right,’ he said in loud tones and raising his arms to the crowd, ‘please go home, we will care for her now.’
He turned to Claude and said, ‘What has happened?’
Claude shrugged. He said, ‘It is as you see. A man came in and called George, saying there was a body.’
‘What time was that?’
‘Ten minutes ago.’
‘You’ve called the city pathologist?’
‘I have called no one yet. I was keeping the crowd
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