arm.
‘As I saw,’ she said.
I walked out of the Hotel du Parc with my head high, past the processing desk, and out the front doors with the soldiers standing guard, only to race down the street and stop at the flower cart where Marguerite told me to deliver messages. A woman with grey hair tucked under a tattered head wrap sat on a stool counting coins.
‘A single daisy,’ I said.
The woman’s eyes glowed. ‘Just one?’
‘Yes, yes… One.’
She slipped me a scrap of paper, and I winced, trying to remember the right code to say I was ready to meet, but then thought any code would work—she’ll know to come find me. I walked away chanting to myself, ‘Nineteen. Twenty-five. Thirty-two.’
14
Monsieur Morisset stood in front of his house waiting for me to return the car, tapping his foot, arms folded. He asked how often I was going to borrow it, and when I told him daily, he started counting the bottles of wine Papa had brought over. ‘I’ll have words with Albert,’ he said.
I wanted to remind him about all that our family had done for his over the years, of the field work Papa gave his sons even though we had enough hands to do it ourselves. ‘What about the candied grapes? Those dried ones your mama used to put up.’
‘I’ll bring some tomorrow.’
He nodded, uncorking one of the bottles with an opener he pulled from his pocket. ‘Yes,’ he said, sniffing the wine. ‘Do that.’
I started up the hill to Papa’s vineyard on my bicycle, the smell of rosewater in my hair turning my stomach as much as the pasty after-kiss Gérard left on my lips. A sharp rock popped my tyre, and the air hissed like a snake from the hole—nearly knocking me off my seat. I growled many words—words I should’ve been ashamed to say, but felt better saying.
Mama took one look at me standing in her doorway and bolted from her chair, cigarette burning between two fingers. ‘You saw Gérard?’ she said, and a violent shiver waved over my body, thinking of Gérard’s hands moving up my leg. ‘You were successful?’
I nodded, and she exhaled the breath she was holding.
‘I was worried, thinking about you all morning,’ she said. ‘But you did what you had to do, when you had to do it.’ She kissed my cheeks. ‘I’m proud of you. Now, you need a drink. Something stiff to celebrate.’ She snubbed her cigarette out and flicked her chin at the root cellar door.
‘Is…’ I said, looking around the chateau. ‘Is Luc here? I mean…’ I closed my eyes briefly. ‘Will he be joining us for supper?’ I placed my hand on the vanilla oil.
‘The doors are closed,’ Mama said. ‘You remember what I said about the doors?’
‘Oh.’ I fought hard to hide my disappointment from Mama. I set the vanilla oil on the counter. ‘What did you say about a drink?’
‘Come on,’ Mama said. ‘I have just the thing.’
I followed Mama downstairs into the root cellar and toward the back where it smelled like the bottom of one of Papa’s wine barrels. The walls were made of dirt and boulder, bugs making their homes in the cracks. Mama lit a fat candlestick and stuck it in between the boulders like a torch. She pointed to a wine rack about knee high and smiled before grabbing one of the wine bottles.
‘Your father doesn’t know I have these. They’re worth a fortune.’ She held up the bottle, pointing to its embossed label. ‘This bottle alone is worth more francs than I gave you the day you left for the convent.’ A smile spread on her face, and her eyes glossed in the dim light. ‘His best pinot. Just as well we use it to celebrate your bold move today. If only all the Résistance could celebrate this well.’
‘Sounds like you’re happier about hiding the wine from Papa.’
‘Humph!’ Mama took a corkscrew from her apron pocket and opened the bottle. ‘Just take a drink, Adèle.’ Mama handed me the bottle, and we took turns taking swigs from it. ‘What happened today,’ she said, glancing up, ‘with him?’
I licked the wine from my lips, the faint taste of Gérard still in my mouth. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ I snagged a cigarette from her pocket, lighting it using one of the candles in the wall, and filled my mouth with smoke. ‘Other than to tell you he’s forgiven me. The marriage will wait, however, thank God. He’s