‘It’s all right, Therese,’ said Papa. ‘It is good that Edgar questions.’ He turned to Edgar. ‘An ideal world does not exist. We must take considered and measured actions. Subtle ones that do not get us noticed. Always exercise caution and care.’
And there the conversation ended as Maman declared there must be no more talk of the occupation. She changed the subject to her sister, Clarice, who lived in Southern Brittany, and how Maman was hoping to visit soon as Clarice had a supply of vegetables for us. ‘In fact,’ said Maman, ‘Nathalie, you can come with me to the countryside. Can’t she, Théodule? I’m going for a week and two pairs of hands means we can bring more supplies back with us.’
‘Yes, that’s a good idea,’ agreed Papa.
I didn’t mind. I hadn’t seen my cousins for over a year and it would be nice to escape Paris for a while. Gaston was the eldest at twenty-eight. Rachelle was twenty-one like me and the youngest was Odile at just fifteen. We used to visit several times a year before the war. ‘I’d love to go,’ I said.
‘Good. I shall arrange a travel pass for you,’ said Maman. ‘Now eat up, everyone, before the soup goes cold.’
When I went to bed that night, the prospect of seeing my cousins again excited me. I had many happy memories of weeks spent in the Breton countryside with the Grandis family. I missed those carefree days.
Eventually, I could feel my eyes growing heavy and sleep beckoning me. The background noise of the city wasn’t as noticeable as it used to be before the war. Now, with a nine o’clock curfew, the only sounds were German patrols either on foot or in their vehicles crawling along the streets, on the lookout for anyone who had defied the rules. Occasionally, there were shouts and the sound of running feet, and I always hoped whoever was being chased down got away. Tonight, though, the noise that jolted me from my semi-consciousness was the unmistakable creak of Edgar’s door and the squeak of the floorboards outside my room.
I threw back the covers and jumped out of bed, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to disturb Maman and Papa. I wrapped my cardigan around me and crept out just as Edgar reached the top of the stairs. He looked around at me and placed one finger to his lips before beckoning me to follow him downstairs. Edgar was carrying a green canvas knapsack on his shoulder. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs to grab his coat, hat, and boots, before tiptoeing through to the kitchen. I followed, closing the door behind me.
‘You’re really going?’ I asked.
He nodded. ‘Yes. I can’t sit back and do nothing. I have to take action.’
I nodded, fully understanding his feelings. ‘I wish I could come too.’
‘You need to be the eyes and ears here,’ he said seriously as he tied the laces on his boots. ‘Just keep listening. Write nothing down.’
‘How will I pass the information to you?’
‘I’ll let you know. I’ll be in touch in the next week.’ He stood up and pulled his cap down. ‘I need to go.’
I looked at my little brother, who now looked like a man. His expression, his stance, his demeanour had changed in those few minutes and I was proud of him. I stepped forward and hugged him. ‘Be careful. I will miss you, but always know I am proud of you.’
‘I will miss you, too. Tell Maman and Papa not to worry.’
We moved apart, and I laughed. ‘Not to worry? I think Maman is going to string me up alive for letting you go.’
We hugged once more, and I stood in the doorway as I watched my brave brother go to fight for our country. I tamped down the fear, replacing it with the pride I felt for him and his decision.
Chapter 2
Darcie, West Sussex, September 2022
No matter how many times she did this, the nerves were always the same. It was the anticipation of the unknown. The excitement that she might be on the brink of an amazing discovery juxtaposed with the thought that it might be nothing of any value or significance.
Darcie slid into the seat at the back of the auction room, nodding and smiling at some of the regular bidders she encountered at the monthly auction. The thrill of entering the bidding arena, coupled with the prospect of some extraordinary finds, filled the room with an undercurrent of suspense that only fuelled Darcie’s adrenaline-soaked veins.
She sourced a great deal of the stock here for her Vintaged and Loved shop in the nearby Sussex market town of Petworth.
The lady from Pre-Loved By You smiled as Darcie sat down in the seats behind her.
Darcie glanced around the room and spotted the man from Magpies Collectables. She’d been bidding against Magpies for the past six years, since she’d first started visiting auctions. He was a couple of decades her senior, but they both had an eye for the same type of collectables in everything vintage.
The auction got off to a prompt start at 2.30p.m. and Darcie followed with interest as the lots were auctioned off. From her seat at the back of the room, she had a good view of the other regular bidders and, in particular, Magpies.
Finally, the auctioneer called out Lot 176. This was the left-luggage lockers removed recently from a disused waiting room of a West Sussex train station.
Her heart was thumping as the bidding opened. Magpies went straight in with a high opening offer. Darcie waited as two other bidders joined in. She wanted to see how high it would go and if at least two of them would back off before she waded in. They quickly moved through the prices, levelling out at £230.
‘So, I have two-thirty at the side of the room. Any latecomers?’ The auctioneer called out as he looked around the hall, his gaze pausing momentarily on Darcie before moving on. ‘Going once! Going twice!’
His gaze came back to Darcie. Her heart was beating hard. She had been holding her nerve for this. She raised her paddle and mouthed ‘two-forty’ to the auctioneer.
