Page 107 of Daughters of Paris

Three nights later, Colette met Sébastien at theLes Halles. It was early morning, and the iron and glass halls of the were bustling with lorries and vans waiting as stallholders set out their produce for the day. Sébastien was dressed in overalls and wearing a heavy coat. Colette had transferred the contents of his suitcase into a flour sack provided by Laurent. Now he blended in with the men moving about everywhere.

Colette and Fleur carried their shopping baskets and the three stood together under one of the archways. Colette and Sébastien had already bid each other a subdued farewell that morning, but the women had decided to accompany him.

Colette ached with the need to kiss him one last time, but in the unfamiliar clothes he already looked like a stranger to her.

He stuck his hands deep into his pockets and nodded at Fleur. ‘Will you watch after her?’

‘You know I will,’ she answered.

He looked back at Colette, his eyes softening the edges. ‘You take care too.’

‘And you.’

He picked up the flour sack and turned away.

The baby kicked. Colette put her hands to her belly. She was nearly at full term and the immense fear overcame her that her child would never know its father. She would have only tales to tell of him. She hadn’t spoken to Sébastien about her thoughts of keeping it, but in that moment, she realised how badly she wanted to. Sébastien had come into her life in the strangest way but now she could not imagine living without him.

‘Come back to me,’ she said.

He half turned. A brief hesitation brought on no doubt by the suddenness of this display of affection.

‘I mean it. I don’t want to lose you.’ Why had she left it so long to realise how deeply she cared for him?

Say it, say it, a voice inside her shouted.

‘I … I think I love you.’

He turned fully round, a crooked smile on his lips.

‘You don’t have to say that.’

‘I mean it,’ Colette said. She walked up to him and kissed him. He was motionless. She brushed her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer, savouring the moment when his lips yielded against hers. She drew back and looked at him. ‘I should have seen it a long time ago. You’re the best man I know. I’ve been blind and stupid.’

He might not be the best-looking man in France, but to Colette he was the dearest. Sébastien blinked. As always, his glasses made his eyes look enormous. Currently, they were full of passion. He took her face between his hands and held her still.

‘You’ve given me what I need. A reason to go, and a reason to return,’ he murmured. ‘One day France will be free and I will come back. In the meantime, I will keep fighting and you must keep safe.’

He adjusted his cap to a jaunty angle so he looked as casual as if he was going for a walk by the river. He picked up his sack, hefted it over his shoulder then turned and walked off among the stallholders and delivery men. He did not look back.

‘Come on, let’s go quickly,’ Fleur said. ‘We are unfamiliar faces in the queues and we don’t want to get caught here either.’

‘One moment,’ Colette murmured wistfully. ‘Just until he turns the corner.’

She felt Fleur take her hand and squeeze it, glad of the support and friendship. When Sébastien had disappeared into the huddle of men carrying sacks, baskets, and boxes, she and Fleur walked home together hand in hand.

‘Was that true?’ Fleur asked when they were safely back inside the apartment.

‘Every word.’ Colette sighed. ‘I don’t know why it took me so long to see it.’

‘I don’t either.’ Fleur’s tone was brisk as she poured the coffee into cups. ‘I knew the moment I saw him that he was a man in a thousand. I am glad you finally realised.’

She brought the cups over to the table. It was weak and bitter, not at all like the coffee Colette remembered from before the war, but it was welcome nonetheless. She remembered with dismay how in the early weeks of her pregnancy even the smell turned her stomach.

‘And I’m glad you’ve got Laurent.’

‘I haven’t,’ Fleur said. ‘We just work well together.’

‘Of course. If you do decide you love him though, don’t leave it too late like I almost did.’

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