‘Bon soir,’ she said.
The two guards ignored her, looked through her as if she didn’t exist. She wasn’t surprised. She didn’t know them – this wasn’t her usual shift; she’d needed to make up the money she’d lost by being ill last week – but they seemed the type to look down their noses, think it was beneath their dignity to be civil to the cleaning staff.
Yvette walked down towards the station. She was due to meet Robert in an unofficial late-night bar on the Canal du Midi, but she was much later than she’d expected. The problem was they were short-staffed, so she’d had to do a double shift back to back in order to get the job done. Fingers crossed he hadn’t given up and gone home. She could do with a drink and a bit of fun. He was a good man.
She walked quickly, quietly, through the labyrinth of streets behind the station. The shabby front door – no sign, no advertising – gave no indication that it was anything other than a private house. From the outside it was all quiet, but she rang the bell anyway.
A small hatch in the door was shot back. A black eye peered out into the unlit street, recognised her and let her in.
‘You’re late tonight,’ the doorman said.
She slipped him a coin. ‘You know how it is. A girl’s got to work.’
Yvette was forty if she was a day, but it was the sort of bar that made allowances. She untied her headscarf, put it in the pocket of her coat, then hung the coat up on the row of hooks that lined the left-hand wall.
‘Got many in tonight?’
‘A few,’ he said, climbing back on to his stool beside the door. ‘Go on down.’
She went along the dimly lit passageway, her shoes pinching her tired feet, pushed open the door and walked into a large open-plan room. The heat rushed out to meet her, the smell of booze and cigarettes and too many men in a confined space.
There were three bulbs hanging in a line from the ceiling, one red, one white, one almost blue, though the paint was peeling off. Along the width of the room, the large single window was blacked out. The bounce of light off the obscured glass, the attempt at patriotic colours and the haze of smoke gave everything a blurred, smudged air, as if looking at a scene with the wrong pair of glasses.
Yvette glanced around hopefully. There were six tables, with assorted unmatched chairs, and two baize card tables in the far corner. A selection of working men, all different ages, talking, playing bézique, two old-timers playing dominos. Only one other woman so far as she could see, no better than she ought to be. Cheap white earrings and a blouse that was several sizes too small.
She couldn’t immediately see Robert. Resigned to buying her first drink herself, Yvette went to the bar, a short wooden counter with bottles set in front of a mirror and glasses over the top of it. Robert told her once it had been ‘liberated’ from the Café Industriel when the military requisitioned all the buildings round the back of the Caserne d’Iéna. It looked temporary, but she knew it had been in the same spot for three years at least.
‘What can I get you?’ the barman asked.
‘The usual,’ Yvette said, pushing a note across the counter. ‘Robert been in?’
He put a glass of beer on the counter. ‘Talking to some young chap in the far corner, last I saw.’
She looked again, and this time saw him, sitting with his back to the room. She walked over, but he was so deep in conversation he didn’t notice her until she was standing right in front of him.
‘That’s a fine welcome, I’m sure.’
Robert broke off, pulling awkwardly at his moustache until he saw who it was. Then a smile broke out on his face.
‘All right, love?’ he said, levering himself to his feet. ‘I’ll get you a chair.’
She looked at the young man with him. ‘If I’m not interrupting . . .’
‘Not at all,’ Robert said. ‘Just passing the time until you came.’
She held out her hand to the stranger. ‘Charmed, I’m sure.’
‘Pleased to meet you . . .?’
‘Yvette.’
‘Yvette,’ the man repeated, offering her a cigarette.
‘Don’t mind if I do,’ she said, letting him light it for her. She waited for him to introduce himself, or for Robert to do it, but neither of them took the trouble.
‘Hard night?’ Robert said.
‘Long,’ she admitted. ‘Did a double shift.’
She glanced at Robert’s friend. He looked quite a serious young man, but lovely eyes. Funny kind of smile, a bit lopsided, but nice all the same.
‘You two old friends?’ she fished. ‘Relatives, maybe?’
The young man smiled at her. ‘Robert’s been telling me how they always rely on you to step in when they need an extra pair of hands. All top secret.’
‘He’s making it sound more important than it is,’ she said, blushing at the compliment. ‘Of course, I’d rather not work for them. You know. But what’s a girl to do?’ She glanced at Robert. ‘Can be useful, when all’s said and done.’
Robert put his heavy hand on her arm. ‘Very self-sufficient, Yvette. Knows how to look after herself. She’s a fine woman,’ he said, his words a little slurred. ‘I’m a lucky man.’
‘Get away with you! ’ she laughed.
‘A lot going on at the moment?’ the young man asked. ‘Robert says it’s been busy, cars going and coming.’
‘Last week, all go,’ she said, her face falling. ‘After that business in Montolieu, they brought a few of them in. A raid in Limoux too, poor sods.’ She took another mouthful of beer. ‘But not in the last few days. All quietened down again, for the time being.’
‘You don’t get the idea anything’s planned, then?’
She glanced at Robert to see if she should answer. He nodded.
‘When there’s something big, there are officers there round the clock. Lots of places I’m not allowed to get into to clean. Means it takes longer next time.’ She tapped her cigarette over the full glass ashtray in the middle of the table. ‘I have to hand it to them, they mostly keep things in order. Tidy, the Germans. Credit where credit’s due.’
‘So, busy tonight then, was it?’ the young man asked again.
‘Not at all. Quiet as the grave.’ She noticed his eyes narrow, as if what she’d said was of enormous significance, and sat a little straighter in her chair. He really was a most attentive young man.
‘No,’ she said. ‘Apart from the night guards on duty, miserable sods. They’re expecting someone, though. A lot of fuss about that. Some bigwig from Paris.’ She paused. ‘No, not Paris, Chartres.’
‘Really,’ he said. He smiled at her. She liked that. ‘How do you know, do they tell you things? I bet you don’t miss a trick!’
Yvette gave a trilling laugh, thoroughly gratified by the young man’s interest.
‘Don’t be daft,’ she said, tapping him playfully on the arm. ‘But they never pay any attention to us working people, hardly notice we’re there.’
She felt Robert’s possessive hand go round her waist. ‘Everyone notices you,’ he said, giving her a squeeze. ‘Good-looking girl like you.’
She pecked him on the cheek. ‘Isn’t he a one?’ she said to the young man, delighted at how the evening was going. She’d forgotten about her aching feet and her sore back from lugging the bucket up and down the stairs, the way the guards looked right through her. ‘Such a charmer,’ she giggled.
‘They were talking about someone coming, then?’ the young man said. ‘I don’t suppose you caught his name?’
Yvette frowned. ‘Well, I’m not sure they mentioned a name as such,’ she said. ‘He’s from the north, that much I do know, and he’s due to arrive some time on Friday. Sous-chef Schiffner was talking to that miserable toad of a lieutenant, Inspector Janeke, about some big dinner they’re holding in his honour. I didn’t get the impression Schiffner was best pleased about it, if truth be told.’
‘This is so interesting, Yvette. And where’s this swanky dinner to take place, did they let tha
t out?’
‘In the Hôtel de la Cité,’ she said triumphantly. ‘They were complaining about having to get all the special passes made up for the staff.’
He smiled encouragingly. ‘And this is on Friday night?’
‘That’s what I gathered.’ She nodded. ‘Freitag,’ she said. ‘At least, I think that’s right. My German’s not perfect, just enough to get by.’
‘She’s a clever girl,’ Robert put in. ‘Speaks German and a bit of English too.’
‘Put the rest of us to shame, Yvette,’ the stranger said, getting to his feet. ‘You’ve been very helpful.’
She was disappointed. ‘You’re not off already, are you?’
‘Need my beauty sleep,’ he said. ‘Unlike some!’
‘Get away,’ said Yvette, tapping him with her hand. ‘But don’t go on my account, not if you boys have got business to discuss. I’m discretion itself. Not a thing passes my lips.’
The young man smiled. ‘I only stayed this long because Robert wanted to introduce me to you, Yvette,’ he said. He put a couple of coins on the table. ‘Get yourself another on me.’
He dropped his voice. ‘Usual place, Bonnet?’
Robert nodded, not a trace of inebriation in his eyes. Then he held up his glass and said in the same loud, slurred voice, ‘Next time, it’s on me.’
The young man gave the slightest of bows. ‘It’s been a pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle.’
‘Mademoiselle indeed,’ she giggled. ‘A bientôt.’ But he was already halfway to the door.
Yvette sat back in her chair. ‘Seems a nice boy,’ she said. ‘Bit serious, but then they’re like that, those boys, aren’t they?’
‘What boys?’ Robert said sharply.
‘Oh, you know, boys,’ she said, looking wistfully after him.
Robert let his hand drop heavily on to her thigh. ‘One more for the road, then home? What do you say?’
She kissed him again. ‘Don’t mind if I do.’
‡
Codex XIX
‡
GAUL
TARASCO
JULY AD 344
The wooden carts stood ready to leave. Possessions piled high, cooking utensils, flagons of posca and barley beer, blankets for the nights, which even at this time of year could be cool.
‘We’ve discussed this so many times, Lupa,’ Arinius said wearily. ‘You said you would go. You promised.’
‘I said I would go when the time came. Not a moment before.’
Arinius put his hand on her shoulder. ‘The time has come,’ he said quietly. ‘The army is on the far side of the river. In three days, four at most, they will be here.’
Lupa turned and saw her sisters beckoning. She ignored them. Lifting the baby higher on her hip, a look of extreme stubbornness on her face, she turned back to face him. Despite himself, Arinius smiled. Already their son’s expression was a reflection of hers.
‘You only have to say the word,’ she said. ‘I told you I would obey you.’
He put his hand on her arm. ‘I will not command you, you know that.’
For a moment, her face softened, then she renewed her objections.
‘We have seen invaders off before.’
‘These are opponents of a different kind, Lupa. They come to kill, not to conquer.’
For a moment, a lightning flash of fear appeared in her eyes, but it was quickly doused.
‘God will protect us,’ she said. ‘Deus suos agnoscet,’ she recited, a touch of pride in her voice that she had remembered the Latin he’d taught her. ‘God will know his own, that’s what you told me.’ She glanced back at the friends, neighbours, waiting to leave. ‘It is what you told us all. They have faith in you, Arinius. So do I.’
‘And so He will,’ Arinius said. ‘But He would not want you to take unnecessary risks.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Please, I am looking to you to set an example. As my wife, you must take care of them. Lead them to safety.’
For a moment, still he thought she would refuse. But then, in one of the mercurial changes of temperament he so much loved, quicksilver like a fish in the river, she took him by surprise by standing on her tiptoes, leaning forward and kissing him on the lips.
‘Very well,’ she said.
‘Lupa?’ he said suspiciously, sensing some sleight of hand, some trick.
‘I will lead them to safety.’
Still he stared, but she was already walking away to join the others. She handed Marcellus to her grandmother, in one of the carts, then stood beside her two older sisters.
‘Come to fetch us soon,’ she called, her head held high. ‘I do not wish to spend the winter in the mountains without you.’
Grief suddenly overwhelmed him. Having been so intent on persuading her to go, he had forgotten how he would feel if she did what he asked. It was thanks to Lupa that he had learnt to love and to live in the world. She gave his life meaning, she and Marcellus. Arinius rushed forward and put his arms around her, held her tight, breathing the deep musk scent of her hair and her skin.
‘Arinius,’ she chided him softly.
He let her go, realising he was making it worse for them both. He kissed his little son on the top of his head, gave Lupa a last, private smile, then stepped away. He raised his right hand to bless their journey.
‘Dominus vobiscum,’ he said. Some of the young women made the sign of the cross, under the open gaze of their mothers and grandmothers and aunts. Then, under his breath, he told Lupa one last time that he loved her.
She smiled. ‘Te amo.’
The cart moved off, joining the chain of wooden wheels and rattling nails winding up the path through the box and the silver birch trees, the mules and the goats pulling the smaller traps.
Only once did Lupa turn round to look at him. Arinius watched as the cart rumbled into the shadow of the hill, then let his hand drop back to his side.
When they were out of sight, he put his hands together and prayed, with an open heart and with open eyes, for God to spare them all.
To spare her.
Arinius stood there a while longer, hoping for a sign that his orisons had been heard, but there was nothing. The sweet empty air settled around him. Then he heard his father-in-law calling his name.
With a final glance at the empty track, the forest now silent once more, he drew his sword and quickly walked down to join the men in the valley.
‡
Chapter 111
CARCASSONNE
JULY 1944
‘We have to try,’ Sandrine said again.
She and Raoul were in the kitchen in the rue du Palais. It was late on Tuesday afternoon and they were at loggerheads. Had been ever since Sandrine had laid out her plan for getting to Authié. Neither of them wanted to fight, but they were unable to stop the row developing. Marianne and Suzanne had crept away and left them to it.
‘You’ll never get anywhere near him,’ Raoul said for the third time.
‘We – they – got Kromer,’ Sandrine said. ‘And Fournier with him.’
‘That was outside his house, in a public street,’ Raoul threw back. ‘The Cité is a garrison. It’s crawling with soldiers. Every one of the postern gates is either boarded up or manned twenty-four hours a day. The Porte de l’Aude has been bricked up and there are blockhouses on the Pont Vieux and all the approach roads. Even if you get in, you’ll never get out in one piece.’
Sandrine put her hand on his arm. ‘Raoul, I know all of this.’
He shrugged her off. ‘You won’t get anywhere near, surely you can see that. It’s too much of a risk. You could go with the others tonight. Go to Coustaussa with Marianne and Suzanne. Leave now before Authié gets back.’
Sandrine forced him to meet her eye. ‘You’re saying you think I should run away?’
‘It’s not running away, it’s common sense!’ he said, unable to stop his voice rising in frustration.
‘Don’t shout at me,’ she shouted.
‘Sandrine, please.’ He
sighed. ‘Just for once listen to someone else’s advice. Listen to me. Please.’
She saw the desperation in his eyes, but knew she couldn’t let it affect her.
‘I have thought it all through, Raoul. If you’d listen to me, you’d see that I – we – can pull this off. We have people inside the Hôtel de la Cité and—’
‘That won’t do any good! ’ he said, throwing his hands in the air.
‘Germans as well as local supporters,’ she continued.
‘I know that.’ Suddenly the fight went out of him. ‘Why does it have to be you?’ he said quietly.
‘Because it does,’ Sandrine said.
Raoul pulled a hand-rolled cigarette from his breast pocket and lit it. The match grated loud, rough, in the quiet room.
‘I’m serious,’ he said. ‘Let me go in your place.’
Sandrine stared at him. ‘Don’t you think I’m capable of it?’
‘That’s not the point.’
‘Then what is the point, tell me?’ she demanded.
Raoul sighed, pushed his fingers through his hair, paced up and down, the floorboards creaking under his anxious feet.
‘There are some things you shouldn’t be doing,’ he said in the end. ‘That’s all.’
‘Because I’m a woman?’
‘No, that’s not what I mean. I don’t think like that, you know I don’t.’
Sandrine took a deep breath. She knew they were arguing because they were frightened about what might happen, both of them.
‘Look,’ she said quietly. ‘I know you’re trying to protect me, but there’s no need. There’s much less chance of success if you go. You are more likely to be stopped than I am.’ She took his hands in hers. ‘We have to try, you know we do. The moment Authié gets to Carcassonne, whatever the real reason for him coming back, we’ve lost the advantage. We have to strike. If it wasn’t me, you’d agree to it like a shot.’
Raoul was about to argue, then stopped.