Page 80 of The Resistance Book Club

By now, she’d been through every last item in the memory box. She’d sorted them, typed them up, and fitted them into the framework of Mémé and Beatrice’s notebook. But there were some secrets that the memory box couldn’t reveal.

Beatrice smiled gently. ‘You’re nearly at the end of your story,’ she told Lucy and Philip. Then she turned to Sébastien. ‘Will you bring my photo albums over later?’ she asked. He nodded as she added, ‘It’s time.’

Lucy wondered what the photo albums would tell them, and was sure her father would’ve seen the pictures before. But then she remembered that there was one last thing she hadn’t looked at, which had been waiting for her in the shop on the day she’d arrived.

‘Bea,’ Lucy asked her. ‘What about Esther’s book, the one under the counter? I didn’t want to unwrap it because it feels like such a piece of history like that. But do you think Mémé would’ve minded if I did look inside?’

Beatrice wrinkled her nose thoughtfully, then shook her head. ‘I don’t think Arielle would mind at all.’ She reached out and took Lucy’s hand. ‘The book belongs to you now.’

FIFTY-EIGHT

MARGOT

1941

‘Felix,’ Joséphine whispered as the turret opened and a figure emerged. Lauterborn had his pistol drawn already, but that was nothing compared to the monstrous gun of the tank, which cranked round until it was pointed at the refugees.

Surely they hadn’t come all this way just to lose now, on the shore, with the waves almost lapping against their feet?

‘Chevalier,’ Lauterborn said brightly, as though addressing an old friend. ‘The Juden rat, leading the untermenschen to safety. Or tonight, to their deaths.’ Then he settled his cool gaze on Theo. ‘And my own brother. A traitor to his race.’

Margot gripped Theo’s sleeve. She had never known fear like it. There was no escape. At any moment, Lauterborn could kill them all. Even Isabelle’s young life hung in the balance; Lauterborn wouldn’t stop short of killing a tiny child.

‘He’s a better man than you – a thousand times better!’ Margot shouted back to Lauterborn. If she was going to die tonight, then it didn’t matter what she said. She wasn’t going to die in silence.

‘Blinding you was a mistake,’ Lauterborn sighed, shaking his head. As he did, Theo took Margot’s arm and tried to pull her behind him. From the corner of her eye she saw Agent Corbeau draw a gun from his hip, as Lauterborn said, ‘I should have killed you instead.’

At that moment, two cracks rang out and both of the Lauterborn brothers crumpled. Suddenly the agent named Corbeau was sprinting along the sand towards the tank, where Obergruppenführer Felix Lauterborn was slumped lifeless over the turret.

He sprang up onto the body of the tank and Margot barely had time to hear a metallic clank before he threw himself into the sand and shouted, ‘Everybody down!’

Margot threw herself to the ground. She put one arm round Theo, who was lying so still. Her tears were falling. He couldn’t be dead, not her Theo, the man she had dared to love. Her other arm went round Daniel, who still had Isabelle in his arms. She felt Beatrice and Joséphine beside her, huddling close.

The air was torn apart by an explosion that was so loud it vibrated through Margot’s entire body. The sound boomed across the beach and echoed back off the cliffs, returning to them as the stench of burning fuel filled the air.

Margot lifted her head, just enough to see the outline of the tank inside a hellish inferno. Thick, black smoke was rolling towards them and out to sea.

‘Everybody into the boats!’ Corbeau commanded. ‘I’ll have our boys drop a little something on the beach to cover your tracks. We don’t want dead Nazis bringing unwanted questions!’ He approached Margot and asked, ‘Who’s bringing the baby?’

Margot pulled herself to her feet, pausing only to run her fingers through Theo’s hair. Through her tears, she glanced down at his unmoving body, then up at Corbeau.

Something had changed inside her. She’d lost Theo, she’d lost Esther. She couldn’t lose Isabelle too.

‘I’mbringing her,’ Margot said. In a split second, she had decided to go across the sea to an unknown land, leaving behind her friends, her family, her home.

‘You’re going to leave us?’ Joséphine reached for Margot’s hand and whispered, ‘Are you sure, Margot? Your home—’ Then she drew in a deep breath and nodded. ‘We’ll look after everything for you, Bea and I. Until you come home again.’

‘Thank you, Joséphine,’ Margot replied. She hadn’t brought a suitcase. She hadn’t even washed up before she’d left. But she knew now, deep in her soul, that this was what she had to do. ‘I know you’ll take good care of the bookshop. And tell Aunt Sandrine I love her, and all the book club, tell them I’ll miss them so much. But I have to go – I have to look after Isabelle.’

Joséphine’s lip trembled but she nodded. ‘We’ll keep the book club going. And the shop and all your things and—’ She pulled Margot into her embrace, holding her tight. ‘And you’ll come home. You and Isabelle.’

‘Goodbye, and take care,’ Margot pleaded. A small voice inside her was telling her to stay, but she had to let go. ‘Goodbye, Daniel. We’ll come back and see you all again one day.’

Daniel dusted the sand from Isabelle’s blankets, then held her to him. He kissed her forehead and told Margot, ‘Tell her about us, Margot. And tell her that she wouldn’t have been Isabelle if not for the monsters who’ve taken over our country.’ He stroked one hand over the baby’s hair. ‘Esther wanted to name you Arielle,’ he whispered, as she cooed softly. ‘After her mother.’ Then he told Margot, ‘But we were afraid to give her a Jewish name. We didn’t want—’ Daniel’s voice choked. ‘But they came for us anyway. Even as we tried to keep our heads down, they came for us and killed us.’

‘Arielle suits her,’ Margot said, her voice thick with tears that she was trying to hold back. ‘Esther gave me her weddingring for your little girl. But would you like to have it? For good luck?’

Daniel shook his head. He kissed Isabelle once more and whispered, ‘Be a good girl for Madame Margot, little one. And know that your mother is watching over you, always.’ Then he held her close one last time. ‘I love you.’