birthday.’ He shook his head, as if trying to loosen that thought from it. ‘That’s no age to die.’
Yvette looked sombre. ‘I wish I was old enough to be able to fight in the war.’
Her mother scowled at her. ‘Yvette, you are all we have left. Do not speak of such things. It will be over one day, and you will have a husband and children, and we’ll put this time behind us. But until then, we’ll do all that we can for the Resistance to bring about the end. We are more than grateful for what you are doing, Claudette, and even though we know you will be with us such a short time, we hope you feel as though you’re a part of the family.’
‘I do,’ responded Vivi. ‘I do feel a part of your family! I’ve grown to love all of you so much.’
Yvette perked up. ‘It has been wonderful to have a sister of my very own. I need to learn to speak good English because after this war is over, I plan to travel, and one day I will go into fashion and become a fashion designer, and maybe I’ll travel to London and Rome,’ she said with great excitement.
Her mother tsk-tsked her. ‘You, my dear, will pick up the dishes and help me wash up. These flights of fancies of yours are nothing more than that.’
‘I will just be grateful to get books again,’ said Pascal, wistfully. ‘So much of the paper is used for other things now, and books are scarce. Claudette, if you come across any books, I would appreciate you bringing me one or two.’
Vivi smiled. ‘I will look, but with my pupils, who knows? Do you like children’s stories?’
He chuckled. ‘At this point, I’ll take anything.’
As they all made their way into the kitchen, and everyone pitched in to clear up and do the dishes, Vivi thought again how this felt so familiar, such a traditional lifestyle in such a changing world. Eating, talking, dreams and the desire for books… such simple things, and yet it was hard to know if any of these future dreams would be possible.
The only thing she feared now more than the Nazis taking her away was them hurting this family. The Renoirs had been so kind to her. The thought of it tormented her in her sleep. And so often at night, Vivi lay awake, thinking on this. So much of the preparation she’d gone through before she came had not equipped her for the emotional turmoil she would feel being in France with real people. Vivi felt she could tackle someone with a knife, but could she endure the wound to her heart if anything happened to these wonderful new friends?
She shuddered with the thought. She could not let them down. Yvette had to be a fashion designer and Mr Renoir would have his books.
16
Present day
On the way back to the manor Sophie had another thought: what about the man Vivienne had eloped with, the Nazi? He had to have a family too. Maybe there was a way of tracking down Vivienne through him, maybe they had even had a family together. When Sophie got home, she asked her auntie Jean if she could look around in the attic in case there was anything that was left about the hospital.
‘Good luck with all that dusty stuff,’ Jean stated, screwing up her nose. ‘I don’t know why we even keep it. I’m sure I will get rid of all of it, after Dad… Well, it would upset him right now though, so it’s all somewhere in boxes up there,’ she said, shaking her head, as though that would get rid of all the controversy around it.
Sophie made her way up to the enormous attic and looked around in dismay – old pieces of furniture, curtains, bedding, ugly works of art. There wasn’t anything in here that looked worth saving. After about an hour of searching, she did find a box. On the side of it, it said ‘hospital records’. Sifting through it, right at the bottom, she found a book with the word ‘admissions’ printed on the front. This would be a good place to start.
Each line on the pages would have the name of a soldier, his date of birth, his serial number, what he had been admitted with, and his final outcome. As Sophie looked through, she was astonished at how many patients had come to the hospital during the war and