Page 25 of Daughters of Paris

She did, and together they attached the bicycle precariously to the roof by passing rope through the rear windows. Colette felt a pang of envy seeing them working together. Louis treated Fleur as more of an adult than he did his daughter.

‘Well done in standing up to your mother,’ Fleur whispered to Colette.

‘Don’t patronise me. I don’t need your congratulations,’ Colette snapped.

Fleur’s eyes widened. Head down, she turned away, mumbling an apology. Colette cringed inwardly.

‘Wait, I didn’t mean that. I’m just anxious and being unfair. Thank you. I surprised myself, in truth.’

Fleur smiled uncertainly. ‘We’re all scared.’

‘You don’t seem it. Or you don’t seem sad to be leaving, in any case.’

‘I don’t have much to leave behind. NowTanteAgnes is gone I didn’t know how long I could have stayed here anyway. It’s very generous of your father to give me a space in the car.’

Fleur twisted her fingers in the belt of her coat. Her face was bleak and Colette wanted to hug her.

‘Did you think we would leave you behind after you’ve lived here for so long!’

Louis clapped his hands together. ‘You must leave. You are heading for Dijon where my cousin Gervase lives. He will be expecting you.’ He kissed Colette’s forehead and whispered, ‘Look after your mother. I know you will be sensible.’

Despite her terror, a ripple of pride passed through Colette. ‘I will. I am. I love you,Papa.’

Louis shook Fleur’s hand, then took Delphine in his arms.

‘We will win this war, as we did the last, and you will come back to me.’

He kissed her passionately and she pressed her body against his in a way that made Colette’s cheeks flame. Parents should not behave in such a way!

Fleur tugged her arm. ‘Let’s give them a moment alone.’

‘They really love each other, don’t they?’ Colette whispered.

‘Are you surprised?’ Fleur asked, tilting her head.

Colette bit her lip. ‘A little. And jealous. I can’t imagine being loved so much.’

‘Nor me. Where is Michal?’ Fleur asked.

Colette looked around. Usually the door to the concierge’slogewas open and Michal sat sunning himself. Today it was closed.

‘I haven’t seen him today,’ Louis said, unwinding himself from Delphine’s arms. ‘I hope he has left with his family.’

Colette and Fleur exchanged a worried glance. Michal’s family consisted of an aged mother and an older uncle. Leaving would not be easy for them. They didn’t even have a car, as far as Colette knew.

Fleur squeezed into the back seat. Colette sat in the front. Delphine, now released from her husband’s embrace, climbed in, started the engine and the car purred into life. They were really leaving.

Colette took a final look at her home and father, wondering when she would see either of them again. She had left Paris once before in disgrace, under the cover of a lie. To be running away from the beloved city now ripped her heart to shreds. She wanted to cry, but seeing Fleur’s placid eyes reflected in the mirror, she was determined to show the same bravery as her friend.

Chapter Eight

The Simca crawled at an interminably slow pace through streets that were clogged with cars and vans.

‘I think everyone in Paris has had the same idea of leaving,’ Colette remarked.

‘They would be stupid not to,’ Delphine answered through gritted teeth as she spun the wheel hard and accelerated, cutting in front of a car coming from a side street.

The pavements too were heaving. Families pushed carts piled high with possessions. Not even carts at times. Some had only prams, others, wheelbarrows. One old woman sat in a bathchair being pushed along, her lap piled so high that the wizened face beneath the hat was barely visible. The pedestrians moved at a pace barely slower than the vehicles and Colette began to recognise the same faces, pinched with fear and weariness.

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