Page 51 of The Resistance Book Club

He nodded. ‘People look at things differently. My ex wouldn’t set foot in the place because Esther was killed here. She just wasn’t having it.’ Sébastien chuckled and gave a shrug. ‘I think Paris suited her better and that was a handy excuse. But this is home to me; I love it here.’

Lucy felt a pang for Sébastien; he’d had his heart brokentoo. ‘It’s got such a happy, warm feeling. Of course…it helps that you and Galette live here now.’

She was worried that she was blushing, but she meant it genuinely. At a time when she’d felt as if she’d lost everything, she’d made a friend.

‘We could have a wander around lunch if you like. Get to know the village,’ Sébastien suggested. ‘And you can tell me how come your dad didn’t hang around. Why would any Frenchman want to settle in England?’

Lucy chuckled. ‘He wanted to see the world and make his fortune. And he did – I must’ve lived on almost every continent while I was growing up. We came back when we could to see Mémé and Papi, but his job took him to London in the end, and that’s where he settled down. I sometimes wonder what would’ve happened if he’d come back to Cordeval. My mum passed away when I was small, and…well, I wonder why we didn’t come back then. If we had, I suppose I’d be running the bookshop by now!’

Sébastien said mischievously, ‘Still could be.’ Then his smile grew more gentle. ‘I’m sorry about your mum. But I bet she’d be really proud; you’re one of those high-fliers that put the rest of us to shame.’

‘I always remember her reading,’ Lucy told him, smiling as she recalled her mother with her long, glossy hair peering out from behind a book. ‘She constantly had a magazine or a book on the go – often more than one. And she was great at telling bedtime stories. I think she would’ve been proud of me working at the magazine, but then, if I’d been running a bookshop, she would’ve moved in and spent all her time in there reading!’

‘And you’ve even got a book club now,’ he reminded her. ‘Sounds to me as though your mum would’ve been first through the door for that.’

Lucy chuckled. ‘Too right, she would’ve been.’

When Lucy had first arrived in Cordeval,she would’ve laughed at Sébastien’s suggestion. She’d been convinced that she couldn’t give up her life in London, or the golden opportunity to becomeGlitz’s editor, to run a bookshop in a quiet village. Now that she’d stayed in Cordeval for a while, though, it didn’t seem like such a crazy idea.

And she hadn’t said yes to Polly yet. All it’d take was one phone call.

‘I can’t stay and run the bookshop,’ she told Sébastien. She shook her head, her hair coming loose from its tortoiseshell clip. ‘I’ve worked so hard to get where I am at the magazine. But it’s great we’ve started the book club up again – we’re having our first meeting tomorrow. I had to order in enough copies ofGrand Hotelfor all of us! The members will keep it going once I’m back in London, I know they will. I’ll definitely come back to visit, though.’

‘And I’ll make lunch when you do.’ Sébastien smiled. ‘If this sale does come off, I’ll make sure the book club keeps going. But I might not need to, if you get the bug.’

Lucy smiled at him as they went back into the cottage.

She knew it didn’t make sense. But she could feel the temptation of another life, in a village on the coast, running her grandma’s old bookshop, and keeping Cordeval’s memories alive. Would she ever find out what had become of baby Isabelle, or even who had died on that dreadful night in the square?

THIRTY-FOUR

MARGOT

1941

The shouts and the hurrying footsteps went on ringing in the tunnels, and Margot felt as if she was being crushed in a vice.

‘Take Isabelle upstairs to your rooms,’ she told Theo. Her thoughts were rushing like a river as she tried to think of a plan and soothe the little girl. ‘With any luck, they won’t bother going all the way up – they’ve got a lot of books to search through. And if they do, it’ll be fine – they won’t poke around in your flat, seeing as they’re commanded by your brother. And we’ll pretend we’ve just woken up.’

The Professor nodded. Then he reached into his pocket and took out a folded piece of sheet music.

‘If they take me, leave this on the piano in Petit’s,’ he told her. ‘That’s all you need to do. It’s for Isabelle’s father; for France.’

Margot nodded as she took the folded paper and put it into her pocket. As she glanced down, she saw blood: Theo’s trousers were torn over his shin, and the fabric was bloodied.

‘You’ve been injured!’ she whispered urgently. She joggedIsabelle in her basket, hoping she’d stay calm even though her little face was threatening to pucker into a cry again. The noises echoing through the tunnels were getting closer and closer. ‘Did they shoot you?’

Theo glanced down, as though he hadn’t noticed. Then he shook his head.

‘A bullet grazed me,’ he said. Then he took the Moses basket, and this time Isabelle seemed content to be handed over. ‘It’s nothing. I think they got some of— I was lucky to get away this time.’

‘A bullet’s not nothing!’ Margot was shocked, and she wondered who else had been hit. ‘Did they recognise you?’

‘They didn’t see me,’ Theo assured her. ‘I was just a person in the darkness, running for his life.’

‘I’ll bandage you up, don’t worry,’ Margot said. ‘And just be careful, Isabelle might start crying again.’

They climbed the stairs in the light from Margot’s lamp. She brushed Isabelle’s cheek to say goodbye as Theo turned to climb the last flight up to his rooms. It was so hard to part with the baby, even for what she hoped would only be a few minutes.