Page 128 of Daughters of Paris

Fleur cut him off with an angry hiss. ‘You ask forgiveness, but are you truly sorry? I have half a mind to let his associates know who was responsible. What do you think they would do?’

Pierre paled slightly. They would see him as a traitor, of course.

‘Don’t…’ he began.

Fleur curled her lip. ‘I’m not going to. We need people here. The fight for France is more important than you. But I don’t ever want to see you again.’

She linked her arm through Colette’s and they stalked past him, noses high in the air as if they were passing a dirty smell.

‘Oh my goodness, did you see his expression?’ Colette said. ‘You were so fierce. I’m proud of you.’

‘I’m proud of myself,’ Fleur admitted. ‘I’m glad I finally got to confront him. It feels like closing the lid on a box for the last time.’

Colette had her own box to close, though she had not realised it. It began when she opened the door to the bookshop one morning in late July and found herself face to face with Delphine.

An older-looking Delphine who was wearing barely any make-up, which left her eyes shadowed and red rimmed. She was wearing a black hat, tipped back on her head, and a plain black coat that seemed at odds with the summer heat. She looked unsure of herself.

‘May I come inside?’

Colette shrugged. ‘It’s a shop. You don’t need my permission.’

‘I mean inside your apartment.’ A prickle of tension ran over Colette’s shoulders. She turned and walked to the stairs, not turning back to see if Delphine was following. When Delphine entered the living room she looked directly at Colette.

‘Your father is dead.’

Delphine spoke with her head up, but then dropped it and appeared to visibly crumble. Ever since she had noticed Delphine’s clothing, Colette had suspected bad news, but the confirmation pulled her legs out from under her.

‘Papa! But I only saw him last week.’

Delphine looked at her sharply. ‘Did you?’

Colette felt her cheeks redden. As far as she knew, Louis had not told Delphine about the monthly visits Colette paid to his factory but that didn’t seem important in the light of the dreadful news.

‘What happened?’

‘When you told us about your baby’s father being in the Resistance, apparently it awoke something inside him. He began to let a group use the factory to meet in the evenings. Two days ago they were discovered and the members ran. Your father was unfit. He suffered a heart attack and died before he could be arrested.’ Delphine dropped onto the sofa and put her head in her hands. ‘I knew nothing of what he had been doing until the Abwehr came to tell me and ask how much I was involved.’

‘Then it’s partly my fault.’ Colette sat beside her mother. The idea of gentle, devoted Louis becoming involved in the Resistance was incomprehensible. Having said that, the idea that she or Fleur were involved would seem as unlikely to many.

‘If you’ve come here to blame me, you don’t have to,’ she said.

Delphine looked at her bleakly. ‘I’m not here for that. He seemed happier over the past half year but I never understood why. It gave him a purpose. He fought in the Great War, of course. I imagine he was proud to defend his country again.’

Her face crumpled. ‘I loved him,’ she sniffed through her tears. ‘I know I flirted with other men and I told you I only married him because I had to, but I truly did.’

Colette reached for Delphine’s hand.

‘Would you like…’ She hesitated, reluctant to offer Delphine an opportunity to ask for alcohol.

Delphine’s mouth curled into a wry smile. ‘Only water, please.’

Colette brought her a glass. From the bedroom Louise began to babble as she woke up from her morning nap. Delphine looked up in surprise.

‘Your baby?’

A little of Colette’s sympathy diminished. ‘My daughter. She’s not a baby any longer.’

Then, remembering Louise’s namesake, the father and husband she and Delphine had just lost she asked, ‘Would you like to meet her?’

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