Gérard.
After the raid, he’d been busy with the police, travelling to Lyon and Paris, and when he was in Vichy, I used Mama as an excuse to get out of his dates, saying she needed me at the estate—a natural absence, like Marguerite had suggested. What I didn’t expect was for the distance to fuel his infatuation for me.
I opened the card.
‘I’m the cat and you’re the mouse. One day I will catch you. Enjoy the roses.’
My stomach turned.
‘Why aren’t you at Charlotte’s shop?’ Papa said, and I looked up, tucking the card back into the envelope.
‘Because I’m here with you, at your wine bar.’ I could feel the tension behind me and between us, the weight of the miliciens’ presence and the existence of Germans in Vichy and now Gérard’s flowers in my arms. Papa kept his head down as he continued to pull crates of wine away from the wall, oblivious to me and the scene unfolding outside.
Suddenly Charlotte walked around the corner and reached for Papa’s door. I panicked, wondering where I should stash the flowers but there was no time. She nearly ran into the deliveryman as he left, stomping inside. I hid the card behind my back, but those damn flowers were still in my arms.
‘Adèle!’ Upon seeing Papa, she pulled me to the side to talk. ‘What’s going on between you and Gérard?’ she whispered.
‘What do you mean?’ I played with the card behind my back. ‘I ran into him yesterday and he said you’ve been busy helping Mama, but we all know that isn’t true. What possible things could she need help with? She’s perfectly well.’
I wondered what Charlotte was doing near the Hotel du Parc to run into Gérard. Part of me wanted to tell her exactly where my mind was concerning Gérard, and that I had no intention of marrying him, but I knew that was too much for her to hear. ‘He’s been very busy with the police. He is just as much to blame.’
‘You make time to see him. He can’t be busy every second of the day. The more he doesn’t see you, the greater the chance he finds someone else. Adèle, think about what you’re doing…’ Charlotte suddenly looked very sad, the way her eyes drew downward and her shoulders too, but then she spotted the flowers and her mouth slowly gaped open. She reached for one of the roses, her finger very close to touching the velvety petals, before shooting her pointed glare back at me. ‘You’re insufferable.’
‘Me?’ I pulled her in close, squishing the flowers between us in my arm and crackling the paper. ‘Well,’ I said all breathy, ‘since we’re confronting each other…’ A little voice inside told me not to talk about it, not to bring it up, but I’d had enough of her brushing me off, and brushing Mama off and making her cry. ‘When are you going to take Mama to your child’s grave? You haven’t let her pay her respects. It’s been months and I’m starting to believe you’re keeping her away on purpose. Me too. I asked to go and you said no.’
The door flew open and four miliciens walked into Papa’s wine bar, startling both Charlotte and me with the clang of bells. Charlotte yanked her arm away, glancing up at the miliciens who were now closer to us both. ‘You’re bringing this up now?’
‘When else am I supposed to bring it up?’
‘Certainly not right now,’ she said, lowering her voice as they chatted next to her.
‘If you don’t want me to go, fine. But Mama—’
‘Leave it alone,’ she said through her teeth.
I turned my back on her after realizing I was getting nowhere. The miliciens helped themselves to the wine Papa had out on the bar, as if they were used to helping themselves to whatever they wanted, and then looked out the window and made comments about the prisoners. Papa still wouldn’t look up.
Charlotte struck up a conversation with the one she recognized, and they traded stories about their days together in school. ‘How’s your husband?’ he asked, alternating his gaze between Charlotte and the prisoners on the other side of the window.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘He’s in Paris, though he should be back next month.’ Charlotte looked over his uniform and commented on the brass buttons pinned to his lapel. ‘I believe these uniforms are the best I’ve seen.’ She ran her hand down the arm of his coat, but then pulled it away when