Valentine nodded, dark brows drawn together in a thoughtful expression.
“I understand. One of my friends...” She looked down at her hands wrapped around the wine glass.
“He was at the concert hall. He was such a good, kind person, so intelligent.” She looked up. There was sadness there, but also anger.
“In many ways it is the same as it was for my grandfather—the terror, the deaths. No different, I think.” She took a sip of wine and looked over at them.
“You have experienced this too, in your cities.” She was thoughtful again, as if the answers might be found in her wine glass.
“In the midst of terror, we find hope. It is all we have, it is enough.” She smiled softly.
“My grandfather told me, that they use to say this to keep themselves going during that horrible time. And they found it—hope—so many times in the people who hid them at great dangerto themselves, in someone who sacrificed himself so that they could escape, in the work that Micheleine did.” She stared down at the photograph.
“Your friend found something that was perhaps very important. My grandfather would tell you that after what they all went through during that time, there is nothing anyone could do that would frighten him.” She looked up then.
“He will want to help you if he can, for her, for all of them.”
“Eh, Valentine,” the owner called out. “The weather is not good. You should go.”
The last of the customers had left.
Valentine smiled. “Sometimes, it is as if I have two grandfathers, yes?” She handed the photograph back to Kris.
“Where are you staying?”
Kris tucked the photograph into the notebook that contained the print-outs and copies she'd made. She exchanged another look with James.
“We didn't make arrangements. Under the circumstances...” She left the rest unsaid.
“We'll find a place for the night,” James told her.
Valentine frowned. “Most of the houses are rented for the holidays. You will not find a place to stay in the village. There is more than enough room at my grandfather's house, and he would not be pleased with me if I let you return to Amiens.”
“We can't do that...” Kris couldn't bear the thought that they might be bringing down something on Valentine and her grandfather. Especially after everything that had happened over the last several days.
“My grandfather would be very angry with me if I didn't bring you home with me. It is the way he is, yes? He is eighty-five years old, and I do not think he will change.” A smile at that.
“I will help Monsieur Sevier close for the evening, then we will leave.”
“Shouldn't you at least call your grandfather and tell him?”
Valentine shook her head. “I tried to call him earlier, but the line was out.”
Monsieur Sevier made a sound as he came out of the kitchen.
“Ju-Ju again,” he muttered. “He is worthless!”
Kris exchanged a look with James. Ju-Ju?
“He scares the crows from the orchards,” Valentine replied, with an eye roll at what appeared to be a long-standing discussion.
“You will see,” she told them. She shook her head. “And the cell coverage is poor. It does not matter. My grandfather hates cell phones.” She grabbed her apron.
“I will only be a few minutes. My car is in the back. I will meet you there and you can follow me.” She disappeared into the kitchen, Monsieur Sevier making several comments in French.
He was obviously acquainted with Ju-Ju, and didn't hesitate to offer an opinion from the animated conversation Kris was able to pick up. Valentine appeared briefly in the doorway of the kitchen as she helped close for the evening and made a hand gesture, no translation needed.
“Ju-Ju seems to have quite a reputation.”
