Page 116 of One More Secret

“How long will you be gone?”

“About a month. Less, if I can help it. Pierrot will be taking my place in command while I’m away since Christian is unable to do that this time. If you need anything, you can contact him through the usual channel.” He glances over at Madame Marchand, who is busy chatting with Élise. “I guess I need to get this over with if I hope to be on time for my meeting with Christian. You’d better join me. Otherwise, Élise and I will never hear the end of it.”

We walk to where the pair is standing. Madame Marchand pauses what appears to be a rather one-sided conversation. Élise introduces me to the woman, who proceeds to ask my opinion on the topic of French theatre, something I know nothing about.

“We don’t get a lot of theatre of any sort where I live,” I explain to Madame Marchand.

“Well, then you must be my guest the next time you are in Paris, Carmen.”

Allaire eventually extricates himself from the conversation with a quick kiss on his wife’s cheek. I stay a while longer, unable to escape, even if I try.

Madame Marchand seems to be nothing more than a lonely woman. If she’s trying to gain information from us to share with the Germans, she’s doing a horrible job of it.

“I need to go now if I hope to catch my train,” I tell the two women after we’ve been talking for another ten minutes. If we are not careful, we’ll draw the wrong kind of attention because we’ve been conversing too long. But I might already be too late in worrying about that. “It was nice meeting you, Madame Marchand.”

“Call me Joseline,” she says, smiling pleasantly, but I’m certain in another time, another place, her smile would have been brighter, more relaxed.

I catch a taxi, conscious someone could be following me from the park, and give the driver an address in the opposite direction to the train station. Once we arrive at my fake destination, I stroll along several streets, and catch another taxi to the station.

Bloody hell, if I survive the war, will I always be looking over my shoulder, waiting for the worst to happen? Will fear and paranoia be forever engrained in my body?

47

JESSICA

May, Present Day

Maple Ridge

“Jess?It’s going to be okay. You’re safe.” Zara’s distant voice sounds like it’s being carried though tumultuous ocean waves.

“Maybe we should call Troy.” Keshia. Her voice is slightly less distorted.

Zara says something about Bailey training to bemypsychiatric service dog. But she’s got that all wrong. I’m just Bailey’s puppy raiser.

I shake my head and blink my eyes open. My body feels as though it has been dunked in icy water. Every part of me is trembling. And I’m vaguely aware of the cold wall pressed against my back.

I’m not holding a knife this time, nor is there a knife next to me on the kitchen floor. Zara told me if anything like last time happened again, she would have to let me go. Did that mean if I was holding a knife when I had a flashback? Or if I had a flashback at Picnic & Treats, period?

I focus on my breathing, drawing air into my lungs and slowly pushing it out through pursed lips. I want to hug Bailey, to stroke her soft hair, but she isn’t allowed in the kitchen.

“What happened?” My mouth is dry, my voice as shaky as my body.

“The power went out for a moment before the building’s generator kicked in.” Zara’s words are strained with worry. “We found you on the floor, shaking.”

I push to my feet, my legs unsteady. Zara stands with me. My heart pounds hard in my chest, the rapid beat vibrating in my ribs and down to my toes. “I need to check on Bailey.”

“I’ll come with you. Keshia, can you keep an eye on things? My cream puffs will be ready to come out of the oven in another minute or two.”

“Of course.”

“Gimme a sec.” Zara rushes out of the kitchen and comes back with a glass of flavored fizzy water. She walks me along the hallway to the staff room. “Do you want me to call Troy?”

I follow her into the room, my heartbeat still racing. “No, that’s fine. He doesn’t need to know every time I have a flashback.”

But I will write it in my daily journal to share with Robyn next week.

“Do you still have them fairly frequently?”

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