Page 26 of The Resistance Book Club

She drew in a deep breath and said, ‘Daniel and I…weare Chevalier.’

FIFTEEN

LUCY

2025

As Lucy headed back to the bookshop she walked past the small fish market, where she saw a man, wearing a woolly hat despite the summer heat, carrying a crate full of tiny, writhing octopuses. Only a few metres away, a small family was buying ice creams and a little boy was tugging his dad’s sleeve, pleading with him to buy an inflatable crocodile that was twice his size.

Cordeval always hung together, despite its contrasts; the working harbour, the golden beach.

Lucy sat down on the harbour wall, taking in the view. A curious seagull approached her on bright yellow feet, its head cocked to one side.

‘So,’ a voice said brightly, from behind her. ‘When’s the wedding? Arielle was so excited for her little granddaughter’s big day.’

Lucy turned and saw Beatrice. She was chic as ever, in a light, floaty shirt paired with loose trousers, as if she was about to go shopping on the Champs-Élysées. Her sunglasses werepropped up in her white hair and the sunlight caught the simple gold chain she wore round her neck.

Lucy smiled to see her, but it faded quickly. She didn’t want to talk about the wedding, although she knew she’d have to.

‘I know she was, and when she passed away I was so sad that she wouldn’t be there.’ Lucy sighed heavily. ‘But there isn’t going to be a wedding, not any more.’

Beatrice knitted her brows and asked, ‘Whyever not?’

‘Because…’ Lucy suddenly felt defiant as she heard Andrew’s words in her mind. ‘What will people think?’ She lifted her chin as she told Beatrice, ‘Because just yesterday morning, I caught my fiancé in bed with another woman!’

Beatrice tutted. ‘Then I can tell you at last. Arielle thought he was a fool! She’d be broken-hearted for you, but glad he showed you what he was before you were tied to him.’ She reached out and patted Lucy’s hand. ‘Cordeval will mend your heart, little one. It has a magic to it.’

Lucy turned her hand over and squeezed Beatrice’s. She had been Mémé’s best friend, after all, and seemed to be as much a part of Cordeval as the harbour and the beach with its rusting tank. ‘Thanks, Beatrice. Although I wish Mémé had told me she felt like that about him!’

‘She wouldn’t interfere,’ Beatrice said gently. ‘Oh, I miss her. We were absolute menaces, the two of us. Right up to her last day, she was so full of life and silliness. When my Jules died, Arielle kept me going. The village always called us the merry widows; she was the best friend I ever had.’

Lucy smiled, even though her eyes were filling with tears. She wished she’d been here more to see Mémé, and now it was too late.

‘Sébastien lives up on the clifftops now, just along the way from your great-grandmother and great-grandfather’s old house,’ Beatrice told her. ‘They moved up there when the familyoutgrew the bookshop. A lovely family has their old cottage now; it’s always been such a happy house.’

Lucy hadn’t known about that, because for as long as she’d visited her grandparents in Cordeval they’d lived in the flat above the bookshop. It made sense, though, that they’d lived somewhere bigger when they’d needed space as Lucy’s father and her uncle had got older. Then they must’ve moved back to the flat once the boys had grown up and left home.

Lucy remembered going for walks past the cottages when she was a child, and now she understood the significance. She remembered playing in the ruins of a nearby cottage on the clifftops, which looked as if it’d been struck by lightning or was a victim of D-Day.

‘I’d love to go and see it!’ she said. ‘There’s so much about the history of this place and my family that I don’t know.’

She thought of Mémé’s letter that she’d found under the counter with Esther’s wrapped book, and the newspaper reporting the bonfire.

‘I found something in the bookshop earlier,’ she told Beatrice. ‘A newspaper from the occupation. There’s an article on the front page about the Nazis burning books –here, in Cordeval.’

Beatrice nodded. ‘I remember it,’ she replied, looking out to sea. ‘Hermann Göring was here.’

Although the summer sun was beating down, Lucy shivered. ‘You must’ve been terrified. You were only a kid!’

‘There’s so much you don’t know about Cordeval.’ Beatrice smiled ruefully.

‘Mémé left a letter for me, under the counter,’ Lucy told her. ‘She said something about there being a book club here during the war, and that there’s a secret to uncover. But I don’t know where to start. I don’t suppose she mentioned it to you?’

‘Oh, she mentioned it all right!’ Beatrice smiled. ‘We put our heads together and gathered up everythingwe could find that might help with the story. We knew we weren’t getting any younger and the village has a story that we wanted to tell. We left it too late, Lucy. But maybe you can tell it instead.’

‘Oh, I can’t wait to see what you’ve found!’ Lucy replied. ‘By the way, did she ever mention anything about the book club to you?’

‘I was in the book club myself. I used to hang around the shop and the women were planning to meet and…well, I just invited myself along. We called it the Resistance Book Club.’ Beatrice smiled and said, ‘Arielle wanted you to know the whole story.’ She slipped her arm through Lucy’s. ‘Will you let me show you?’