asked her to go and collect some lengths of fabric that would be needed for making up some of the samples for the autumn collection.
Her first question when she reached the shop, was whether there was any word about Monsieur and Madame Arnaud. The dyer pressed his lips together grimly and shook his head. ‘We’ve suspended all activity along the network for the time being. There haven’t been any further arrests so far, so it looks like they’ve managed not to divulge any information that could be of use to the Gestapo. God only knows whether the two of them will be able to hold out, though.’
From the shelves behind him, he gathered up the orders he’d completed for Delavigne Couture and laid the paper-wrapped packages on the counter. Then, reaching into a cupboard he drew out a smaller parcel from behind a pile of colour swatches. ‘Make sure Vivienne gets this. And tell her to keep it hidden for the time being. She won’t be able to use it until we’ve worked out a new route . . .’ He stopped, realising that he’d already said too much. ‘I’ll get word to Monsieur Leroux. Don’t worry, there are other networks that we may be able to tap into until we can get things up and running again. In the meantime, can you keep your visitor hidden, do you think? Come and let me know if it becomes a problem. We must be careful . . . although I know I don’t need to tell you that. Just sit tight for a few days. We’ll work something out.’
‘Merci, monsieur.’ Mireille slipped the parcel for Vivi into the inside pocket of her coat and then gathered up the larger packages.
The dyer held the shop door open for her. ‘Try not to worry,’ he told her. But his reassuring tone couldn’t disguise the tension that was etched into the creases on his forehead.
During the working day the girls stayed out of the apartment, leaving the young man there alone. He’d promised not to move around, for fear of someone hearing a soft footfall or the creak of a floorboard when visiting the storerooms immediately beneath the fifth floor. Mademoiselle Vannier and the other seamstresses often had to retrieve a client’s mannequin, or go in search of a particular pattern or a bolt of cloth. But in the evening, after everyone else had gone, Mireille, Claire and Vivi could relax a little and their ‘guest’ could be allowed out of his room to share their supper with them.
His face lit up when he saw Mireille that evening. ‘I have a name!’ he said, brandishing the false identity papers that she’d given him. ‘Allow me to introduce myself: Frédéric Fournier at your service, mademoiselle.’ He made an elaborate bow, taking her hand and kissing it theatrically.
‘Hmm,’ said Mireille, pretending to look at him appraisingly, although she made no move to withdraw her hand from his, ‘it suits you. But we will call you Fréd. It looks like you’ll be spending a few days here with us, Fréd, so I hope you won’t get too bored, stuck up here with nothing to do.’
‘On the contrary,’ he said with a smile that mirrored hers, ‘I have plenty to do. Tonight I am planning on doing my laundry, if I may make use of the facilities in this excellent establishment, and then I hope to spend a most enjoyable evening in the company of my very kind hosts.’ He looked down at her hand which he was still holding and then gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘One of my very kind hosts in particular,’ he said, quietly. And then he raised her hand to his lips again and kissed it with a tenderness, this time, that melted her heart.
While he was in the bathroom, washing himself and his socks, Mireille went to find Vivi in the kitchen where she was attempting to make a meal that was scarcely adequate for three stretch to feed four. Mireille hadn’t had a chance to tell her what the dyer had said earlier, but she did so now. She also handed over Vivi’s package and passed on the message about keeping it hidden for the time being. Vivi frowned, but said nothing and took the parcel to her room.
That evening, Mireille and the newly named Frédéric sat up late into the night, long after Claire and Vivi had gone to their beds, continuing to talk about their families and their lives