Page 16 of Daughters of Paris

Sophie had spent the evening dancing with Victorine. There had been other female couples and a few male couples dancing together. Seeing them and realising no one else was shocked made Colette feel very unworldly. ‘I do think men in general are exciting. Don’t you?’ she asked.

‘Not really,’ Sophie said. ‘They are a necessary evil if one wants to have children and a home, but I get my kicks in other ways. Did you have fun?’

Colette slipped her sable throw over her shoulder. ‘I really did, though now the music is over, I’m thinking about what the first man I danced with told me. He said he thinks war is coming. He said that is why everyone is so determined to have fun.’

‘He probably just said that in the hope you would go to bed with him,’ Josette scoffed. ‘We are determined to have fun because we can. War might be fun though, our mothers seemed to enjoy themselves. Ours nursed in the American Hospital in Neuilly and said it was wonderful to be free and busy.’

Josette and Sophie’s mother still enjoyed being busy from what Colette had seen. She oversaw the female staff at the hotel and busied herself with organising charitable dinners and lunches there for various causes. Colette couldn’t say whether Delphine had enjoyed her time nursing at Montfaucon during the Great War, but she seemed happiest in the house with a cocktail glass in her hand.

‘Anyway, there won’t be a war,’ Sophie said decisively. She linked her arms through the other girls’ and they walked back down the winding streets to the Metro station together.

As long as Colette could remember, the family had spent August in a house on the coast of Normandy where the breeze was fresh and clean enough to make the heat bearable. Her stay in England meant she had missed a year and she was devastated to learn the family would remain in Paris. Even so, she did not take the news as hard as Delphine who stormed around with a frown for days.

‘All this because your father wants to buy some old houses to turn into another factory. Even if he has to stay in Paris, I don’t see why we can’t go, or why I can’t go myself. I could stay with Max and Aline in their house. They always rent somewhere with plenty of rooms for visitors.’

‘You could go and sit in the garden,’ Colette suggested, opening the window of her mother’s salon and leaning out to catch the breeze. The temperature remained high even into the evening, and however often one bathed it was impossible not to become sticky and dusty. ‘There is some shade on the terrace and a lovely breeze by the fountain.’

‘I suppose so,’ Delphine said with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. ‘You don’t seem to care that we can’t go to Houlgate.’

Her voice was almost accusatory and Colette made her mind up not to admit her annoyance even under torture.

‘I haven’t been back in Paris long enough to grow bored even though it’s hot,’ she said airily.

Delphine narrowed her eyes. ‘There isn’t a man, is there? You haven’t heard from Gunther?’

Colette felt a violent stab in her breast. ‘No I haven’t. And I won’t, I imagine. I don’t even know if he is still in Paris. He probably returned to Trier.’

‘He will no doubt have enlisted in the army or that dreadful youth organisation,’ Delphine said, frowning. ‘It’s just as well that things ended when they did. Just imagine if you had married him. You would have had to leave Paris and join the Nazi party.’

‘You’re talking nonsense,’ Colette snapped in a rare moment of inescapable irritation. ‘Gunther is far too old to join theHitlerjugendand I don’t think everybody in Germany is a Nazi. Gunther wasn’t and he wanted to live in Paris to become a film star.’ She dropped her head. ‘Besides, he never wanted to marry me, as you well know, and it upsets me to hear you talk like that.’

She stood and walked out of the salon. Even if Delphine did not want to sit in the garden, Colette would take advantage of the cool shade. She went outside and saw Fleur was already sitting on the iron bench at the end of the terrace.

Colette ambled over.

‘Hello, Fleur, isn’t it warm!’

‘Very. But the night stock smell lovely currently. I’d rather sit out here than in the kitchen.’

Fleur was working her way through a pile of mending from the basket at her side and had her feet up, stretching out along the whole of the bench. She didn’t move, even though Colette was standing, so it was pretty clear she didn’t want company.

‘Well, it’s nice to see you. I’d better go get ready; I’m going dancing again.’

Fleur snipped off the thread and gave her a quick smile. ‘Have a nice time.’

Colette stood for a moment, feeling like the intruder. It was toe-curling. Fleur was friendly enough when they met, but she had her own life and interests and the closeness they had shared was long gone. She walked back to the house feeling like a cloud was filling her stomach. In her bedroom, she pulled out her new dress and felt slightly better. It was emerald-green silk with thin straps and a fringe of silver beads that finished just below her knees. Much better for the club than her old black dress.

She would go dancing and everything would be lovely. She had spoken the truth to Delphine: there was no particular man that she liked, and she was content to keep it that way.

And there would be no war either.

And then came September, and life as Colette knew it changed for ever.

On the third day of September, Louis walked into the house at five and requested that everyone, family and staff, gather in the dining room. Michal Drucker, the concierge of the apartment block, was with him. Colette greeted him warmly. Michal had been the concierge for the entire time Colette had lived there and she hoped the rumours of ill treatment towards Jews in other countries would not extend to France. Michal was far too nice to deserve that.

When everyone was there, Louis unfolded a copy of theParis-Soirnewspaper. He closed his eyes briefly and bowed his head then began to read aloud from the front page.

‘We are waging war because it has been thrust on us…’

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