He leaned forward and took her hand between both of his. She looked at him and her voice came out in a flat whisper. ‘We would have lost everything. Piper-Heidsieck was sequestered after parachutes were found in the cellars. Paul Chandon-Moët was deported to Auschwitz and Moët & Chandon was sequestered. It was a terrible time. I was responsible for the vineyard. For the livelihoods of so many. I was just twenty.’ She lifted her head. ‘I bricked up the entrance to the cellar and I don’t regret it for a minute but I don’t understand. Henri said Paul’s body was there at the back by riddling rack thirty-nine, but I couldn’t bear to look.’
Luc sighed and squeezed her hand.
‘Are you sure there is no body there?’
‘I promise you.’
‘So what happened to him?’
‘Maybe he was just stunned and disappeared before you realised,’ suggested Luc.
’Is there another exit from the cellar?’ asked Hattie.
‘Not to my knowledge. Besides Henri was so sure he’d killed him. But there would have been plenty of time. I didn’t go back until the following morning.’
‘You just said Henri was very shaken up by it,’ said Hattie.
Killing a man would do that to someone, thought Luc.
‘Maybe he didn’t check properly,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ agreed Luc. ‘That must be what happened. And knowing Henri had tried to kill him, he didn’t want to hang about to let him finish the job.’
‘Maybe.’ Marthe deflated. ‘I just don’t know. It’s a mystery.’ She gave a hollow laugh. ‘And I’ve been so worried you would find that damn cellar before I died.’
Luc laid a hand on her soft, papery skin. ‘I’m sorry for that. Although on the plus side, you don’t need to worry anymore.’
‘There is that.’ She frowned. ‘But now we have a mystery. Whatever happened to Paul Rey?’
‘We could do some research and see if he ever turned up elsewhere?’ suggested Luc.
Marthe’s face relaxed. ‘That’s a very good idea.’ She straightened up and once again she was the indomitable woman he’d always known, about to ride into battle. ‘Now I’m tired. You can go but only after you tell me what’s going on.’ Her lips pursed. ‘What I saw at thevin d’honneurwas most unsatisfactory. You, Luc, were watching Hattie all the time and then pretending you weren’t, and you, Hattie, were doing exactly the same to Luc until that Englishman turned up. Solange said you were going home. With him? That would be a great shame. You know you have to stop her.’
Luc started to laugh.
‘And what is so funny?’ Suddenly Marthe was back to being her starchy self.
‘You were complaining about people talking about you in front of you,’ Luc pointed out.
‘That’s different. I’m old. I can get away with bad behaviour.’
Hattie’s mouth turned up at the corners. He could see her trying to hide a smile.
‘Sorry, Hattie. He’s not very good at fighting for people.’ Marthe shook her head sadly. ‘I remember the first time his parents left him with me.’ She turned to Luc. ‘You were resigned to it. Already at seven.’ She leaned forward and this time she was the one that patted his hand. ‘You always expect people to leave, so you don’t put up a fight.’
‘Not this time,’ said Luc, winking at Hattie. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out her car keys, dangling them between his fingers.
‘That’s where they were!’
Luc grinned at her. ‘I said it wouldn’t be right to make you choose … but I never said I wouldn’t.’
Hattie grinned back. ‘You wouldn’t have needed to. I’d already decided to stay.’
‘Thank heavens for that,’ said Marthe. ‘I can’t stand all this mushy stuff. Being young and in love and stupid must be exhausting. Now leave me alone. Like the doctor said, I need to rest. And if you’re coming to see me tomorrow, make sure you bring some brandy.’
Luc pulled Hattie to her feet and kissed her. ‘Let’s go home to the château.’
She kissed him back. ‘Home. I like the sound of that.’
