Page 65 of The Resistance Book Club

She laid Isabelle in her basket, gave her the knitted goose and Herr Knuddel the bear, and promised her she’d be back soon. The little girl picked up her toys again and seemed content, but still Margot didn’t like having to leave her on her own, even for a couple of minutes.

Margot followed Theo down the stairs and through the shop so she could lock up behind him. She didn’t dare say a word as she watched Theo leave with the soldier, even as her heart felt as if it was tearing in her chest. He had to come back. This couldn’t be a ruse to arrest him and take him away, could it?

As she watched them go, she saw two German soldiers making their way along the street, one holding a stack of paper, the other a bucket and a brush. They’d already left a trail of posters on the shops; one was drying on her window next to the wanted poster for Chevalier. She wondered if it was an invitation to hear Göring speak.

Margot went outside and saw that the new poster shouted:feu des livres interdit! demain soir à six heures!bonfire of banned books! tomorrow evening at six o’clock!

She clutched her hands, trying to still her fear. First it’d been Rouen where the Nazis had burned books, then Clarenville, and now Cordeval, right on her doorstep. She tried to swallow down her revulsion. She couldn’t go to a book-burning. She couldn’t even bear the thought of it, seeing all those books going up in smoke.

And it was planned for the very night of the escape.

She hurried back inside the shop, locked the door behind her, and ran up the stairs two at a time to fetch Isabelle. She carried her down to the cellar in her basket, the little girl chuckling as if it was a game. She opened Theo’s trunk and was faced with the radio. The frequency was as Theo had left it the night before. Her heart was in her throat as she flicked the switch and the radio hummed into life.

‘Savant calling,’ she said, the words barely audible as she thought of Göring and Lauterborn in the square, only at the end of the street. ‘Savant calling,’ she said again, trying to sound confident even as her voice wavered with fear. There was nothing but silence at the other end as Margot willed someone to hear and respond. She had no idea who or even where the woman who called herself Clair de Lune was, but she seemed like the only hope they had at the moment to get their message out.

‘Is anybody there?’ Margot pleaded. ‘Savant calling. Göring has arrived in Cordeval. Can you hear me? Göring’s in Cordeval!’

Isabelle had started to whine, so Margot lifted her out of the basket and held her on her knee as she repeated the message. ‘Göring is in Cordeval. And they’re burning books tomorrow evening at six!’

‘This is Chevalier,’ a voice suddenly said into the silence. ‘Message received, Savant.’

Margot stared at the radio in amazement, and Isabelle stopped grizzling. Had the baby somehow recognised the deep, rich tones of her father’s voice?

‘Thank you, Chevalier,’ Margot said. She knew she had to turn the radio off in case any Germans found the frequency and listened in. But she was spellbound – it was the first time she’d heard Daniel’s voice since he’d vanished. He was no longer a fisherman who’d fearlessly gone out in rough seas, but a resistance fighter, awanted man.

‘This may change the extraction,’ Daniel said.

‘She’s here, your little one,’ Margot said. ‘She’s with me. She’s safe. I wish you could come and see her.’

There was a moment of silence before he said, ‘My Isabelle? Savant told me – the women of Cordeval are caring for her. Until I can meet her.’ He fell silent as Margot heard a click through the unseen waves of the radio. Then Daniel said urgently, ‘They’re looking for our frequencies, we have to sign off.’

‘Goodbye, Chevalier, and good luck,’ she said, and clicked the radio off.

FORTY-THREE

LUCY

2025

Sébastien was busy with dinner for his hotel guests, so Lucy went for a long walk around the village, then down to the beach to stare out to sea. She watched the dark bulk of a ship as it disappeared over the horizon. Her father was on the other side of the Channel in England, no doubt shaking his head at Lucy’s decision. But a new life, thrumming with possibility, waited for her here.

She still had the music and the sheet of code paper with her and she sat down on a bench to look at them again. She wished she’d been old enough to hear Margot’s stories over a cup of coffee and a croissant. She wished?—

An idea sprang into Lucy’s mind. At first she wondered if it was ridiculous, but she chased that thought away. It would be a wonderful thing to do.

And she decided she had to tell Sébastien right away. She didn’t bother trying to battle the bad phone signal to text him, but went back to the bar instead. It was already bustling with locals who were whiling away the cares of the day.

She weaved her way through the tables to the piano, where Sébastien was playing Isabelle’s lullaby. She slipped one arm round his broad shoulders. She wanted to kiss his cheek, but she didn’t want to take him by surprise.

‘Sébastien!’ she said cheerfully. ‘You’re playing Theo’s tune!’

‘Got an ear for it,’ he replied, smiling up at her. ‘I only have to hear them a couple of times and they’re lodged in there!’

‘You’re a genius – I think you would’ve got on with Theo.’ Lucy’s heart flipped.

‘Look, I know you’re in the middle of dinner,’ she went on, as she put the notebook down on top of the piano, ‘but I had an idea for the bookshop. Thing is, I didn’t know what you’d think about it.’

Sébastien kept playing as he nodded her on, his expression expectant.