Page 81 of Daughters of Paris

‘They won’t do anything that might look suspicious,’ Fleur said.

‘Yes, we can think of it as a date.’ Colette examined her fingernails. ‘How exciting.’

‘It isn’t a date. It’s more like an interview,’ Fleur pointed out.

It wasn’t a date at all in fact, at least not for her or Laurent. What Colette and Sébastien called their meetings was up to them.

She sipped her water and looked around. As usual, the clientele was mainly in German uniform, but with occasional pairs or groups where it was harder to tell the nationality. Before too long a man stopped by the table, casting a shadow over it.

‘May I join you?’

His voice was recognisable, but when Fleur looked up, it took her a moment to connect the man before her with the one she had previously met. Before, Laurent had been dressed for work in overalls. Now, he wore a well-cut suit of dark blue, unbuttoned to show a matching waistcoat and a cream shirt. His sandy hair was neatly combed back under a fedora set at a rakish angle.

‘Of course you may,’ she said in a slightly fluttery voice. From the corner of her eye she saw a smile form on Colette’s face.

Laurent laid down a newspaper on the table. ‘Excellent. I must just make use of the facilities. If you would like to read my newspaper, you are welcome.’

He pushed it towards Fleur with the tip of his finger.

‘Thank you.’ It was the previous day’s edition, and she had no real wish to read it, but for some reason he thought it was important. While Laurent sauntered between the tables and made his way inside the café to the toilets, Fleur unfolded the newspaper.

‘You complete minx. You didn’t tell me he was so handsome!’

Fleur looked up from the paper to see Colette staring at her, leaning forward with her eyes wide and her mouth wider.

‘Is he? I hadn’t really noticed.’ Fleur laced her fingers together. ‘The last time I saw him he was covered in engine oil and needed a wash.’

Colette rolled her eyes back in her head theatrically and sighed. ‘Oh, my dear, it just gets better. Hot soap and water! If I were you, I would get him into bed as soon as you can!’

‘You are appalling!’ Fleur blushed furiously.

Colette looked unconcerned. ‘I know. But if you don’t, somebody else will, assuming someone isn’t already.’

‘You, perhaps?’ Fleur looked sharply at her.

‘No. I don’t think Sébastien would like that.’ Colette bit her fingernail, either missing Fleur’s meaning or choosing to ignore it. She pursed her lips, looking worried. ‘It’s funny. I think I would mind very much if I upset Sébastien when I didn’t expect to. I wonder where he is.’

Colette looked around. Fleur studied her, taken aback by the admission. It seemed unlikely that Colette would feel the same stirring of emotion for someone in his position but stranger things happened, especially during wartime.

She opened the newspaper and something fell onto her lap. It was a folded sheet of paper. Intrigued, she put the newspaper on the table and unfolded the page. Before she could read it, however, a hand fell on her shoulder and she gave a cry of surprise.

‘Lesson one: be discreet.’

She had not noticed Laurent’s return. Now he stood behind her chair looking over her shoulder with a smile. ‘Discretion is the key to survival.’

Fleur lowered the note onto her lap and flipped it open discreetly.

You have beautiful eyes.

Tall, angular handwriting in black ink.

She raised the eyes in question to Laurent, narrowing them suspiciously. ‘Should I assume this is a code? Do I need to translate it?’

He laughed. ‘No, you don’t.’

‘Oh, well… Thank you, I suppose,’ Fleur said.

She avoided looking at Colette, imagining the expression on her friend’s face. The note flustered her. She wasn’t used to compliments like that.

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