“Perhaps, but I could not leave my country in wartime,” Tamsyn said emphatically. “I might never see my family again if I left!”
The landlady nodded. “It was wise of you to understand that. What are your plans now?”
Tamsyn spread her hands. “I have no idea! I need time to rest and think. Your house was pointed out to me, so I thought this would be a good place to decide what to do next. I might not be here for long, but I hope very much that you can accommodate me for a few days.”
Madame pursed her lips, then nodded. “The only room I have available is in the attic, and it’s the smallest in the house. But it’s clean and comfortable. I also offer three meals a day but that’s extra. Do you want to see the room before you agree?”
“I have no other choice so I’m sure I’ll find it very suitable,” Tamsyn said ruefully. “I would like the meals as well.”
“Very well. Do you have any belongings?”
Tamsyn unfastened her cloak to reveal the crossed straps of her carry bags. “I thought this was the safest way to carry my things.”
“Very wise. Come along and I’ll show you the room.”
There were four increasingly narrow flights of steps up to the room. Madame unlocked the door to reveal a very small attic space with a slanting ceiling. But it was indeed clean, a window let in sunlight, and the narrow bed looked adequate. There was a washstand and a wooden chair and a small piece of carpet to warm the feet. There was even a rather nice watercolor picture of ships in the harbor hanging over the bed.
“This is perfect,” Tamsyn said.
“It’s fortunate that you’re short or you’d be bumping your head against the ceiling all the time!” Madame said. “I’ll send the maid up with water for your washstand. Dinner will be served at six o’clock. A gong will be sounded ten minutes before.”
Tamsyn pulled out her small purse and carefully counted out enough francs to cover a week of room and board. “You have my most sincere thanks,madame.”
The landlady accepted the money and handed over the key to the room. “I hope you will find the peace you need here, my dear. I’ll see you at dinner.”
As soon as the landlady left, Tamsyn peeled off her cloak and lifted the carry bags from her shoulders, hanging the bags and cloak on pegs behind the door. A wave of fatigue swamped her. She hadn’t realized how tired and bruised and drained she was.
Not even taking off her half boots, she sprawled onto the bed and let exhaustion take her.
* * *
The hollow sound of a distant gong wakened Tamsyn. She wanted to stay in bed for the next week, but she needed to eat. Wearily she pushed herself to a sitting position and hoped that the dinner would be good enough to justify the four flights of stairs down and back up again later.
She stood and peered into the small mirror above the washbasin. She looked as bad as she felt. Remembering that Madame Bernard had said she’d send up water, she unlocked the door and found that a full pitcher was set against the wall.
After splashing cold water on her face and combing her hair, she felt ready to find her meal. The dining room was in the back of the house, next to the kitchen, and Madame appeared to introduce her new guest to the seven other residents.
They were friendly and interested in hearing her account of what had happened at the port. There were gasps of shock from some of the young women who sympathized with the poor Englishmen who were prevented from going home, but others said they should have stayed in England in the first place. Tamsyn supposed that was a fair reflection of what most of the French thought.
Dinner was a great pot of hearty stew that contained sausage and beans and barley and other vegetables accompanied by slices of fresh warm bread and a mild, pleasant white table wine. There was enough stew for seconds. Tamsyn finished her second bowl with a happy sigh, feeling much better than she had earlier.
“I needed that!” she said. “Is the food always this good?”
The other young women nodded. “Madame’s cook is very good. No one goes hungry,” a cheerful girl named Lucille said. “I’m glad you liked the stew. If you stay very long, you’ll be seeing it regularly!”
Tamsyn laughed. “French cooking is still another reason for staying on this side of the channel. They say the English are dreadful cooks.”
“Which is why wellborn English folk are always hiring French chefs.” Lucille frowned. “With the war resumed, there won’t be many people crossing the channel to work. Have you decided what you’ll do now, Therese?”
“I haven’t had much time to think about it,” Tamsyn said. “I’ll probably return to Paris, where I know people who can help me find work.” She sighed. “But I’m sure I won’t be paid as well as the English milady promised me.”
“The English need French style as well as French food,” another girl said.
A third said, “This war is good for no one. Soon all the young men will be sent away to fight and then what will we do?”
Silence fell over the table. Tamsyn rose and said quietly, “Then we must pray for peace. Good night, my friends, and thank you all for your welcome.”
Climbing four flights of steps several times a day would certainly keep Tamsyn fit. She’d been given a short piece of candle to light her way, and when she reached her attic, she used it to light the lantern on the small table. It was time to evaluate her resources.
