Page 37 of The French Wife

Quickly, she extracted the folded letters from her powder compact and handed them to Bruno. He grabbed at them and opened them out on the table. He fell silent, his head bent over the letters, studying them for a long time. Amélie peeled the vegetables, then took them to the stove to sweat them in some beef fat, before boiling them up to make soup. There was a loaf of bread in the pantry too. Soup and bread was a regular supper along with omelettes.

The soup was just coming to the boil when Bruno banged his fist on the table. ‘Good God!’ he said.

‘Whatever’s the matter?’ Amélie turned in alarm.

‘The Germans have picked up a radio transmission from somewhere in the vicinity of St Marie. They say they are going to raid all the farms and houses in the area to track it down.’

‘My God!’ Amélie stared at him. ‘Is that what it says in the letter?’

‘Yes. Even with my limited German I’ve managed to work that out. We’ll need to move Raoul’s radio and hide it, in case they come before he gets back. Open the cellar, won’t you? I’ll go upstairs and get the radio.’

Amélie quickly moved the pot of soup from the hotplate, found Bruno’s keys on a hook on the back of the kitchen door, then, her fingers suddenly clumsy and awkward, she looked for the key to the cellar door on the bunch. It was difficult to fit it into the lock, but she persisted, her hands becoming slippery with sweat. With one ear out for the rumble of German vehicles, she turned the key, then undid the bolts at the top and bottom of the door, then pulled it aside. A blast of cold air from the damp space wrapped itself around her legs and she shivered.

At that moment, Bruno came through from the herbergerie carrying a brown leather suitcase. ‘Get the hurricane lamp,’ he said.

Amélie hurried to the cupboard in the hall where they stored their supply of lamps. There was no electricity in the cellar. She found one, brought it into the kitchen and lit it with a match.

‘You go down first with the lamp,’ Bruno said.

She did as he asked, walking slowly in front of him down the steps, shuddering when she heard the scrabble of rats or mice below. When they reached the bottom of the steps, Bruno walked straight to the door at the end of the first room.

‘I’ll take it through here,’ he said. ‘Then we can put the shelves across the door to hide the entrance.’

Amélie helped Bruno stow the suitcase in one of the cupboards, then they left that room, closed the door and turned to the large, heavy set of shelves where they stored jars of pickle and bottles of wine. Quickly and without speaking, they took the bottles off, then Bruno put his shoulder to the shelves and inched them towards the door.

‘Help, can’t you?’ he told Amélie irritably. ‘Here, push next to me. We might be able to do it together.’

She stood beside him and, panting and straining, they gradually moved the shelves along the wall until they covered the door. Then they put the jars and bottles back onto them. When they’d finished, they went upstairs to the kitchen. Amélie went to the sink and washed her hands. Glancing through the front window, she noticed the flash of headlamps on the track and heard the rumble of vehicles, and a few seconds later an armoured car followed by an army truck entered the courtyard.

‘I need to go into the woods to warn Raoul,’ Bruno said. ‘I’ll go out through the herbergerie. You can talk to them… hold them off.’

A rush of fear went through Amélie. ‘Bruno!’ she said. ‘Don’t leave me alone here. What shall I say to them?’

‘You’ll think of something,’ he said and disappeared.

At that moment there was a heavy rap on the front door.

Amélie went to open it. Her heart sank when she saw that it was Untersturmführer Glock, flanked by a group of soldiers. She’d hoped it would be Bauer.

‘Madame Garnier,’ Glock said with a sly smile. ‘I am sorry to disturb you at your home, but we have reports of an illegal radio being operated in this vicinity. I have orders to supervise a search of your premises. Where is your husband, please?’

‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘None of the men are here. They must be finishing up in the olive groves.’

‘Really? Working in the dark?’

She shrugged, trying to keep her eyes and her voice steady. ‘They work by floodlight sometimes. Rain is forecast tomorrow and they need to finish.’ She was improvising; she had no idea if rain was forecast, but since none of the farmworkers were around, she assumed it was a plausible reason for their absence.

‘Well, no matter. We need to search your house and barns. Move aside please, madame.’

She stood back and the soldiers moved quickly past Glock and into the house, followed by another group who Glock summoned from the trucks with a wave of his arm. Some thundered up the stairs, others went into the living room, yet more went into the kitchen and on through to the herbergerie and started banging around in there. One of them was trying the cellar door. He said something in German to Glock.

‘Do you have the key to the cellar, madame?’ Glock asked.

Amélie’s heart was hammering against her ribs as she fetched Bruno’s keys from the hook on the kitchen door. She hoped nobody could see her hands shaking as she unlocked the door while the soldier and Glock watched.

‘There are no lights down there, I’m afraid,’ she said.

Glock smiled. ‘No matter. We have torches.’