to the window. ‘Gérard.’
We stood in silence, Gérard’s shoulders puffing along with his chest. Papa banged around upstairs singing a song meant for himself, unaware Gérard was here and standing in front of me.
Breathe, I said to myself, but my heart raced no matter how many numbers I counted in my head, and I wondered what Marguerite would say if she knew I had started to panic. She’d pull me up by the armpits, tell me the Résistance isn’t a place for weaklings. I exhaled. Be yourself. He wants to win.
I smoothed my skirt against my thighs, holding my head up. ‘I want to apologize.’
He laughed. ‘What makes you think I’ll accept?’
‘I got cold feet, Gérard. I was wrong with how I handled it, and I want to make it up to you. Give you—us—a second chance.’
Gérard licked his lips as if he had just finished eating me and had spat out my bones. ‘I’ve moved on.’
‘Well if you don’t want me then—’
He caught me by the arm. ‘Do you realize how much you’ve embarrassed me, my family?’ His fingers dug into the soft part of my underarm. Gérard was all muscle, brutish some would say, with a round nose and face. He was never one for nice words, and I was prepared, albeit mentally, for him to strike me. ‘The humiliation of telling Prêtre Champoix you’d run away… he’s been my family’s priest since I was a boy.’
‘I’m sure the situation was displeasing—’
‘You left me for a nunnery. Lord, Adèle!’ His lips quaked. ‘Even if I wanted to I couldn’t take you back. It’s a question of decency.’ He threw my arm to the side. ‘I can’t remember the last time I was that mad. You can thank your sister for—’
Papa bounded down the stairs with a grin glossed red with wine. ‘Gérard!’ He had his own glass in one hand and a clean glass in the other. ‘How lovely.’
Papa handed him the clean glass, which he twirled in his hand, eyes boring into mine. He knew as well as I that Papa had his own interests in linking our families together. Papa talked about the new German wine that had just come in, flipping the crate around as if forgetting he had tried to hide it just a few minutes ago.
A sly smile cocked on Gérard’s face. I could see his gums, which was normal since Gérard rarely closed his mouth. ‘I was just telling Adèle how the Hotel du Parc needed a maid. Someone to clean the toilets, wash out the bins.’
My faced dropped, and Gérard burst out laughing. ‘Kidding, of course. Why don’t you bring me lunch tomorrow, Adèle? Let’s start there.’ He took a cigar from his front pocket and stuck it in the corner of his mouth. ‘A second chance.’
Once I saw his cigar all I could think about was the box in his office. ‘Thank you, Gérard.’
Papa smiled—Gérard had agreed. He pulled a German bottle of wine from the crate. ‘Please, stay for some wine.’
‘No time for wine, Albert,’ he said, giving Papa the glass back. ‘I’ve got diplomats arriving in half an hour.’
‘Very well,’ Papa said. ‘Say hello to your family for me, will you?’
Gérard nodded, looking me over.
‘Are you still with the police?’ Gérard was dressed in a pressed business suit, the kind I used to see the wealthy wear in the gardens, before the war. ‘Because you’re dressed rather nice for a day of arresting.’
‘Sharp little tongue you’ve got for someone wanting a second chance,’ he said. ‘It’s good to know you haven’t changed too much since you’ve been gone. Here’s a lesson for you.’ He ran his fingers down the front of his jacket. ‘People who work hard and don’t run away from commitment get rewarded. If I ran away from opportunity, well, that would make me a defeatist. Right, Adèle?’
‘You’re right, Gérard. You can’t run away from opportunity.’ I smiled, putting my arm around Papa. ‘That’s why I’m looking forward to bringing you lunch tomorrow.’
Gérard stared at me, sucking on his unlit cigar, while Papa talked about getting me a car. ‘I’ll make arrangements with our neighbours, the Morissets. He owes me a favour and with enough wine… he’ll have petrol for the both of you.’
‘Thank you, Papa—’
Gérard started for the door, shouting back as he left, ‘I’ll be waiting!’
‘Gérard saved a soldier from the mud during the Battle of Sedan,’ Papa said, pouring himself another glass of wine. ‘He’s just a fine fellow—brave.’
I watched Gérard as he