Page 39 of The Resistance Book Club

As Isabelle met her gaze, and her grizzling stopped, Margot felt something inside her come loose.

It was as if it’d always been there, waiting, and now that this baby needed her, relied on her completely, a huge well of love opened up inside her.

And she knew, without any doubt, that she would go to the ends of the earth to protect her.

TWENTY-FIVE

LUCY

2025

After having breakfast at Jojo’s, Lucy had felt a headache coming on. The summer heat had turned humid, and clouds swelled in the sky, stacking up one on top of the other and pressing down on Cordeval.

Lucy didn’t know what to do with herself. All she could do was wonder about ‘Isabelle’s Lullaby’ and why it’d been hidden inside Sébastien’s piano.

She sat in the flat with the windows open, trying to catch whatever breeze she could. Her phone buzzed into life with messages from Hannah and Natalie and she forgot about the oppressive heat for a moment as she swiped the screen.

Bonjour, Lucy! Thinking of you today!!!Natalie had written in their group chat, with a hug emoji.

Beneath it, Hannah had sent a love heart, before writing,I hope you’re surrounded by gorgeous French boys, red wine and chocolate! Actually, skip the first, stick with the booze and chocs! We miss you so much. Love you, Lu xxxxx.

Lucy replied with a row of heart emojis andI miss you too!Well, I *have* found a very nice French monsieur who makes amazing croissants! But I’m being good. Apart from the red wine and chocolates. ;) How’s London? It’s SO HOT here right now. Really humid. I think there’s going to be a storm!!

She could see that Natalie was typing, then her message sprang up on the screen.DREAM MAN! If you don’t want him, give him my number!! Srsly though glad you’re ok. We’re thinking of you over there in France!

Lucy tapped out some laughter emojis, then replied,Love you both! I’ll raise a glass of red to you later xxxx

She had only just pressedSendwhen her phone started to ring. It was her dad. For a moment, she pictured him a few weeks ago as he practised his walk down the aisle with her across the living room carpet, his face lit up with a proud smile. She swallowed back a sob and answered. ‘Dad? How’s things?’

‘I’m supposed to ask you that,’ he replied. ‘How are you, darling? All right?’

‘It’s…it’s not the easiest of days,’ Lucy admitted. ‘But I’m surviving. Just been chatting to Hannah and Natalie.’

‘They’ve been absolute bricks,’ he told her. ‘They’ve taken care of so many bits that I would never have thought of. But Diana and I wanted to talk to you, because…well, we love you, Lu. We don’t like to think of you alone today.’

‘You know you can ring us whenever you like?’ Diana, her stepmum, said. Lucy could hear rustling in the background, and pictured them leaning over the phone together. ‘If you want us to come over, sweetheart, just say.’

‘You don’t have to drop everything for me,’ Lucy said. ‘I’m all right, really. It’s nice being here, staying in Mémé and Papi’s flat. I’d have a hard time in London – I’d just keep being reminded of…well…’

‘Cordeval’s a lovely place to be if you want to take a deep breath,’ her father said gently. ‘Get out into the sunshine, Lu, and forget it all for today.’

‘It’s building up to a storm out there at the moment!’ Lucy leaned back in her chair to see the dark clouds piling ever higher above the village. She caught sight of Sébastien looking up at the clouds, too, before starting to bring in the tables from outside the bar.

She told her dad, ‘The weirdest thing has happened. Do you remember that lullaby that Mémé used to sing? You’ll never guess where it’s turned up. On a screwed-up piece of paper inside the piano at Sébastien’s bar. He found it and played it for me – it says “Isabelle’s Lullaby” on it.’

Her father gave a soft laugh and said, ‘That sounds like something from a mystery to me. Maybe one for an ace journalist like you to solve?’

‘Maybe…’ Lucy glanced over at the memory box and the notebook. A photo of Margot in a garden somewhere lay on the table beside it; she was wearing the dress that Lucy had found in Mémé’s wardrobe. ‘There’s a lot of mysteries here. I’ll tell you all about them when I next see you.’

They chatted for a little while, and Lucy felt better, not so lost. Her life was full without a husband. She could return to her research now; she needed to find out what happened to Esther. She owed it to her great-grandmother’s friend not to look away, no matter how painful the truth was.

Lucy took Mémé’s magnifying glass, that she’d used when reading the newspaper, out of the drawer. She focused on one day in the diary and, from the tiny letters, realised that she was looking atE RIP. Another word followed it and Lucy squinted until the letters seemed to unfurl themselves to reveal the wordpoche. Pocket.

It seemed very odd to Lucy that Margot would record that her friend had died and then add a word like ‘pocket’. She flicked through the pages, wondering if the word appeared again, but as she did, she realised that the back cover of the diary was thicker than the front. She looked carefully at it andrealised it was slightly concertinaed, and she remembered one of her own notebooks, which had a pocket at the back.

She was sure that was what she could see now, except the diary was so tightly bound that she couldn’t easily access it. She took a knife from Mémé’s kitchen and carefully worked at the pocket, until finally it opened. And inside it, she found a folded sheet of paper.

It was impossible to lay flat without risking tearing it, so Lucy read it as carefully as she could. She soon realised she was reading Margot’s own testimony. Lucy shivered; she was holding in her hands an eyewitness account.