Page 31 of Daughters of Paris

‘I think so,’ Fleur agreed. ‘But not the cellar. Do you remember the old Secret Garden? There is a metal trunk in the attic that would be waterproof. It might be a struggle to get it through the door, but I would rather things were not in the house if possible. If we were to be visited by any authorities the cellar is the first place they would look.’

She was surprised by a hug from Colette. ‘I adore how practical you are. I’m not sure I will fit through that gap now though.’

‘I’ll do it,’ Fleur said. She smiled. ‘Do you remember how we used to hide there from Edith and the grown-ups? Those summers were such fun. I didn’t ever think things would change.’

A wistful expression crossed Colette’s face. ‘That’s where I took Gunther…’

Her eyes grew blank as she became lost for a moment in private memories.

Fleur looked away, her cheeks growing hot. She could very well imagine what Colette and Gunther had got up to amid the rugs and cushions. She looked at the cupboard then pulled out a tin of coffee beans.

‘We will definitely hide this.’

Colette nodded. ‘And we certainly won’t tell Sophie we have it. Let her beg her coffee from the Nazis. I would rather drink dishwater than do that!’

She came around the table to Fleur. Her blue eyes were wide, giving her a helpless look that made her resemble Delphine quite startlingly. ‘I’m very glad you are here with me. I don’t think I could bear this on my own.’

‘Of course you could,’ Fleur assured her.

Her vulnerability was moving, but also a little pathetic. Fleur hadn’t appreciated how much strength Agnes’ robust upbringing had given her. Seeing how the other women had responded to the situation made her more appreciative of her aunt than she had been when Agnes had lived. She would not fail her aunt’s memory and vowed to herself that no matter what happened, she would never crumble and wail as Josette had, take to her bed like Delphine, or belittle herself by partying with the enemy like Sophie.

‘I have bad news,’ Louis announced one hot August evening. ‘The Ministry of Agriculture and Supply have announced the introduction of food rationing. Tomorrow we must all take our identity cards to be recorded and collect ration coupons.’

Fleur and Colette exchanged a triumphant glance. It had been worth an afternoon of sweat dragging the heavy trunk from the attic to the Secret Garden and filling it with bottled fruit.

‘Can’t you go for me?’ Delphine asked.

‘We all have to go in person,’ Louis said. ‘We leave the house promptly at eight tomorrow morning. Luckily, we do not have to walk far.’

Fleur dropped her head to avoid being caught in the look that Delphine and Colette exchanged. Louis had gone in search of his beloved car only to discover it was nowhere to be seen. He’d put a brave face on it and assured the women they had made the right decision but it must have hurt him.

Eight o’clock was not early enough. By mid-afternoon they were still queuing at themairie. Squadrons in uniforms marched in perfect unison down the wide avenues. Their arms swung stiffly at identical angles, while the heavy black boots struck the road as one, creating a thunderclap each time. Seeing them intensified the tightness in Fleur’s throat and chest. It didn’t feel like she would ever breathe instinctively again. She shrank back as the unit approached and brushed up against Colette. They linked their fingers.

Despite their disturbing presence, the soldiers dressed in their heavy uniforms with high boots and stiff collars looked as if they were struggling in the stifling August heat. Dressed in a cool skirt and blouse, with a wide brimmed hat, Fleur felt quite smug.

‘They do look uncomfortable, don’t they?’ she murmured to Colette.

Colette adjusted her hat brim to the side, better to keep the afternoon sun from burning her face. ‘Good. I hope they get headaches and all vomit.’

‘We should be in Deauville, drinking champagne, not standing in a line getting grit in our eyes.’ Delphine sighed.

‘Deauville is full of Germans too,’ Colette snapped. ‘It would be just as bad.’

Delphine narrowed her eyes. ‘But cooler. I hope they all drop dead from heatstroke where they march.’

The woman in the line behind them, steel-grey hair in an immaculate chignon and lips painted scarlet nodded. ‘So do I.’

As the squadron passed, the woman gave a carefree sigh and fanned herself idly with a magazine. Colette did the same. Delphine twirled the handle of her parasol and to Fleur’s delight, all along the queue, women began to demonstrate how little the heat was seemingly affecting them.

There was no way of telling whether the soldiers were aware of the tiny act of defiance that they were marching past, but it filled Fleur with a glee that sustained her until she reached the front of the line and was issued with coupons detailing the items they could be exchanged for and the days they could be used. The family eyed them dismally.

‘We’ll be queuing a lot more,’ Colette said.

‘We’ll take turns,’ Fleur answered. She looked back along the line that still snaked around the corner. ‘I am going to the bookshop. I should have gone weeks ago.’

‘Will you be safe?’ Colette asked.

The back of Fleur’s neck and her armpits grew even stickier. If she didn’t do this now, she doubted she ever would.

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