surprised if she mentions it again tonight,’ I said, and I let the thought hang in the air, looking into his eyes, hoping to God he’d realize that he needed to stay away from the chateau.
‘She’s a miserable old woman.’ He pressed his lips together. ‘When is Albert moving back?’
‘The regime keeps him busy all day in the city. It’s just easier for him to stay at the wine bar, so maybe not for a while.’
I held my breath. Please… please… please…
He nodded, folding up his napkin, taking one last swipe of his mouth. ‘I don’t want to see your mother again,’ he said. ‘Not until Albert moves back and knocks some sense into her.’
I smiled. ‘Oh?’ I said, but I wanted to fall to the floor and thank God he’d agreed. ‘But how will I get home?’ I waited for him to notice the obvious choice.
He motioned to Charlotte and Henri. ‘They can take you.’ He looked at his watch again, tapping it. ‘I’m working tonight.’
‘At this hour?’ I said, but when he looked at me, pausing, I realized that meant he was off to arrest someone.
He tossed back the last swig of wine in his glass, but instead of rushing out, he sighed. ‘I’m glad you’re back, Adèle,’ he said, and it was in the same voice he had used earlier at the dress shop, sincere, which sent a chill up my spine.
He stood up and kissed my cheek just as I swallowed a hunk of steak. ‘This courting business might be fun after all,’ he said, but then whispered. ‘Make sure you hold the bag up when you leave.’
He left me at the table eating the rest of my steak alone. Charlotte and Henri had yet to notice I was there, and that was fine with me. The last thing I wanted was for Charlotte to know I’d seen them looking like they didn’t know each other.
I slipped out of the restaurant and walked home. After two hours in shoes not meant for walking with old blisters bursting open, and holding that damn dress bag, I finally made it home to the estate. The chateau was dark, and so was the barrel cellar.
‘I wouldn’t go in there,’ Mama said from the patio, and I dropped the bag at my feet.
‘Is he gone?’ I said, and she shook her head.
‘I don’t know,’ she said, ‘but it was enough excitement for one day, don’t you think?’
‘Did you tell him?’ I said, swallowing dryly. ‘That it was Gérard?’
‘He knows it was a visitor. That’s all. The police,’ she said, and I understood that she didn’t tell him anything more.
I walked into the kitchen, and Mama walked upstairs to her bedroom. ‘Now that you’re home, I’m going to bed,’ she said, but then turned back to kiss both my cheeks.
I sat at the kitchen table where Mama had lit a candle and smoked a few of her cigarettes. I hoped Luc would come inside, but why would he after the fright he’d had? I closed my eyes, only to open them back up, fatigued, and blurry, remembering the Germans, the scare, and Gérard.
I walked to the window, slumped against the sill, and looked at the barrel cellar, wanting so badly to go and see him. But Mama was right. There had been too much excitement for one day. ‘Luc,’ I breathed, staring into the night, remembering our kiss.
*
The following morning, the door to the barrel cellar was closed. Luc was gone. Mama said he came and went; she never knew when he’d show up. His smell lingered where his body had brushed up against mine and under my sleeve where he touched me. But like a mark that fades over time, Luc’s scent got weaker and weaker as the days passed until I couldn’t smell him at all on my clothes.
Though, the image of his face—his eyes when they looked into mine like a clear pond—stayed with me.
16
Papa and Gérard walked straight toward me. I had only just walked up the Hotel du Parc with Gérard’s lunch hanging from my arm. I pulled the lapels of my wool coat tightly across my chest, eyeing them, a late autumn breeze swirling crinkled leaves around my ankles. The last time I saw Gérard and Papa talking just by themselves was the day I found out about my marriage plans. The sight of them so close together didn’t sit right with me, despite the understanding I had with Gérard.