Page 65 of Love in the Shadows

“That’s good, Esther. You’re doing fine.” The sound came again. “And push.”

Fabienne’s hands trembled. She shoved them deep into her pockets and watched Esther’s face contort with another contraction. Then Esther screamed. Fabienne left the room and went to Nancy’s bedroom. Nancy was sitting on the bed holding Astrid’s hand. Both girls wore deep frowns.

“Is she okay?” Astrid asked.

Another scream and Nancy covered her ears with her hands and closed her eyes. “It’s scary.”

Fabienne kneeled in front of the two girls and ruffled their hair as she smiled at them. “Esther is fine. The baby will be here soon. The noises she’s making are normal.”

The girls widened their eyes at another scream and then a baby’s cry brought a smile to their faces and they started to giggle.

Nancy jumped to her feet. “Can we go and see it?”

Fabienne stood. “Wait a second while I check.” She went through to the bedroom. The baby was wrapped in a towel, pressed close to Esther’s naked breast. It was the most beautiful sight Fabienne had ever witnessed.

“We must clamp and cut the cord,” Esther said. She smiled for the first time since Fabienne had known her.

“Can Nancy and Astrid come and see the baby?”

Esther kissed the child’s tiny head. “Yes. Tell them her name is Bénédicte.”

Fabienne’s heart expanded with so much joy and love she thought it might burst. She ushered the girls in and found a pair of scissors and string. She doused both items in schnaps to disinfect them, and returned with a bowl of warm water and cloths, and two more glasses. When she entered the bedroom, the girls had gone.

“The placenta will come shortly,” Esther said. Her face contorted and she moaned.

Fabienne held out the scissors to her.

She shook her head. “Would you do it, please?”

Fabienne’s heart raced and her fingers trembled as she tied the cord. It was so much easier delivering a calf. The baby was so small, so fragile. When she made the cut and Bénédicte didn’t bat an eyelid, Fabienne breathed a deep sigh. “Wow.” She poured three glasses of brandy.

Esther moaned and delivered the afterbirth. “Don’t waste it,” she said as Johanna cleared up. “Now, I will take that drink.” She raised her glass. “We are Linette and Bénédicte Moreau, and we both owe our lives to you.” She drank and rested her head against the raised pillow and gazed down at the baby suckling on her nipple. Tears slipped onto her cheeks, but she was smiling.

Fabienne put her hand in the small of Johanna’s back and stroked with her thumb. Johanna’s breath faltered. Fabienne kept her hand there; she needed the closeness. She lifted her glass to Linette, and drank. Today was a good day and tomorrow would come too soon.

She wished they could spend the afternoon and evening together celebrating, but Johanna and Astrid would have to return to the house and would not be able to talk to anyone about the baby being born in the cottage.

“I’ll explain everything to Astrid,” Johanna said, as if reading her mind. “She’s surprisingly good at keeping secrets. She still calls the kitten Réglisse.”

Fabienne smiled as she held Johanna’s gaze, hoping to convey how much she loved her, wanted her, needed her. A look was the best she had to give right now. After the war, if they made it, the words she wanted to say would come more easily.

27.

JOHANNA KNEW GERHARD HAD brought bad news home, even before he spoke.

He’d come through the door quietly, dismissed Schmidt with a flick of his hand, and done something he’d never done before. He shut the living room door.

Something had happened to Ralf.

She gasped as he steadied his gaze on her, and the sound of his voice met her ears in a warbled, unintelligible noise, as though she was at the bottom of the sea, drowning. His face showed more expression than she’d seen in the previous seven months. The air left her lungs, and she couldn’t replace it. She clasped her throat and thought she had screamed out loud, but Gerhard just stared at her in the deafening silence.

Her legs felt weak, unable to carry her, and the air became stuffy. The floor moved quickly towards her. There was a thud and pain, and nothing.

“Johanna. Johanna.”

Air, a breeze, against her cheeks. Why did her head hurt? It all came flooding back to her, rolling over her once again, crushing her with the hurt without giving pause for her to breathe. It was his voice, not Fabienne’s. His rough hands shaking her to her senses when she needed Fabienne’s tender, nurturing caress. She opened her eyes and slowly got to her feet, then filled with rage she rained punches down on him with all her might.

“You fucking killed him.”

---