Page 97 of Daughters of Paris

‘He is French, and his name is—’

‘I don’t want to hear his name.’ Delphine’s hand whipped up like a slap. ‘Some champagne-soaked cabaret crawler I suppose.’

‘No. Actually he is a student and a waiter.’

She could have added,and he spends the nights helping people in trouble get to safety, but she suspected Delphine would not see this as an advantage.

‘Does he know about your condition?’ Delphine asked sharply.

‘Not yet.’

‘Then don’t tell him.’

She walked, remarkably steadily, over to her dressing table and pulled out a drawer. ‘I’ll have to sell some of my jewellery and get you to a doctor quickly.’

Colette frowned. ‘I don’t need to see a doctor yet. I feel perfectly well.’

Delphine’s lip curled. She strode back to Colette and pointed a finger at her belly.

‘Not to check your health you stupid little girl. To scrape that mistake out of you.’

Colette slapped her across the face.

Delphine yelped like a small dog.

Colette stared at her hand in horror. ‘I didn’t mean… I don’t…Maman,I…’

Delphine raised her face. A livid streak branded her left cheek and her eyes were black with rage.

‘You little bitch! I should have aborted you but Louis begged me to keep you.’

Colette had withstood the tirade but now her legs wobbled. She staggered sideways and bumped against the chair, reeling at her mother’s words.

‘That’s not true. You’re lying.’

Delphine stared at her. ‘The choice is simple: either you abort that child or you remain indoors until it’s born and we can dispose of it.’

The thought of undergoing a termination was too terrifying to consider. Women died from those. But she could not choose Delphine’s other option and become a prisoner. Colette felt vomit rise in her throat. She put her hand over her mouth for fear she would physically throw up.

‘There’s a third choice,’ she said coldly. ‘I’m leaving.’

‘Ruin your life if you want. But do that and you’re no longer my daughter,’ Delphine said.

Colette stood. She was taller than Delphine but had never really noticed until now. Her mother was a vain, stupid woman whose life revolved around drinking and clothes. No wonder her father preferred to spend his time at the factory.

‘That should make you happy by the sounds of it. It’s just a pity it’s two decades too late for you.’ She walked to the door. She had her hand on the handle before Delphine spoke.

‘Where will you go?’

Colette hesitated, not bearing to admit she had no idea. She forced herself to look her mother in the eye. Delphine had turned white; the only colour the mark left by Colette’s slap. She looked shocked. Colette felt the same.

‘I don’t have to tell you.’

‘You’ll be home by the end of the week.’

‘No I won’t. Goodbye,Mère.’

She walked to her room and looked around. She owned so much. She had never needed to ask more than once for anything. Never gone without, even when she had gone weeping to her parents the first time she had got pregnant. It terrified her to leave all this behind but if she didn’t do it now, a part of her knew she never would.

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