Page 47 of The French Wife

Amélie stared at him, her heart hammering, the hairs rising on her scalp, not trusting her voice to respond. She hadn’t known other raids were planned in the area, although she supposed she should have guessed. Raoul would have radioed all the information she’d given him about troop movements to London and to all the local networks. That meant even more deaths on her conscience than she’d thought.

Colbert looked directly at her and frowned. Her heart sped up even more. Could he see the guilt in her face?

‘Are you quite alright, Madame Garnier?’ he said. ‘You look a bit pale. Perhaps your fall was worse than you thought.’

‘I’m fine, thank you, monsieur,’ she said, walking quickly past him to her desk, where she busied herself taking off her coat and preparing for the day’s work.

She felt sluggish and clumsy as she picked up some papers Bauer must have left beside her typewriter, and she remembered how she’d rebuffed him the previous evening. She looked at them now and frowned, trying to concentrate. By now she could recognise a few words in German and could see immediately that these papers contained yet more information about troop movements. This time the troops were coming down by train from the former occupied zone, several trainloads of them over the next few days bound for Carcassonne, Narbonne and even their local station at Lézignan.

Automatically, she reached for a piece of the usual carbon paper, slipped it between two sheets of white paper and rolled them into the typewriter. Then she started typing them out. As she typed, she could see this was yet more information the Resistance would be grateful for, and despite her mixed feelings, she knew deep in her heart that passing it on was the right thing to do. She needed to be careful, though, the whole place was on high alert now.

It took her longer than normal to type up the information, her hands seemed incapable of working at their customary speed. When she’d finished, making sure nobody was watching, she hid the copies in their usual place and took the originals through to Bauer’s office.

He was engrossed in some papers on his desk and, when she knocked, he glanced up. He looked tired, his eyes troubled, but he smiled when he saw her standing there and beckoned her in. She entered the room and handed him the papers.

‘Thank you,’ he said, taking them from her and glancing over them. Then he looked up at her and smiled. ‘Do sit down, madame,’ he said. ‘It is very good to see you. The one bright spot in an otherwise dark morning. Have you heard about our troubles?’

She nodded, unable to meet his gaze, and sat down in the chair opposite him.

He sighed. ‘It’s a very worrying situation. And once again I find myself in conflict with my colleagues from the SS,’ he went on, leaning back and putting his fingertips together. His eyes held a faraway look and it was almost as if he was speaking to himself. ‘They are hell-bent on taking hostages from St Marie because of the raid on the convoy near Narbonne last night.’

Amélie made a sharp intake of breath as shock went through her like bolts of electricity. She hadn’t expected this. How would she live with herself if innocent people suffered because of what she’d done?

‘I’ve told them it isn’t fair to exact revenge on the citizens of St Marie,’ he said. ‘After all, we are many, many kilometres away from where it happened. And, besides, on principle I abhor the taking of innocent hostages. But, unfortunately, it is one of the SS’s major tactics in situations like this.’

Amélie forced herself to look up at him, her mouth completely dry now, aware she was trembling all over. But there were questions she needed to ask him. Things she needed to know. His eyes rested on her face for a few seconds, a gentle smile on his. But then he frowned suddenly and started forward in his chair. She knew what he was about to say, but she cut in first.

‘How many casualties were there?’ she managed to blurt out.

‘We are not sure yet,’ he replied. ‘Some of the wounded soldiers are still being treated in hospital. But at least ten are dead that we know about and several more injured. A couple of vehicles were damaged beyond repair by grenades too. There were more casualties in the other ambushes in and around Narbonne as well. We’re still waiting for information about those.’

Still frowning, he got up and came out from behind his desk and walked towards her, his eyes fixed on her face. ‘How did you get that bruise, Madame Garnier? It looks very painful.’

Automatically her hand went to her cheekbone, and she touched it with her fingers. Then he bent down and touched it too, gently, tenderly even. She shivered at the feel of his cool fingers on her skin.

She repeated the lie, her voice catching in her throat. His tenderness had taken her unawares. ‘I slipped in the farmyard feeding the chickens.’

He stepped back and sat on the edge of the desk facing her, his arms folded, looking at her with deep concern in his eyes. ‘I don’t believe that for one moment, Madame Garnier. It was your husband who did that to you, wasn’t it?’

She hesitated. It would be the easiest thing in the world to say that Bruno had hit her. If there was any suspicion at all that she might have been involved in the ambush, that would remove it for sure. But even though she knew Bruno didn’t deserve her loyalty, for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to blame him for it.

‘No, I told you, I slipped,’ she insisted.

‘But what about those marks on your wrists I saw the other day? They’re still there, in fact. Don’t tell me he didn’t do that to you as well?’

She looked into his eyes, near to tears now.

‘I worry for you, Madame Garnier,’ he went on, his voice full of emotion. ‘I… I think about you a lot, you know, and I don’t like to think of you at the mercy of that man.’

She remained silent, wishing he would stop. But why should she shield Bruno from blame? This was the first time anyone had questioned her directly about his treatment of her. Except for Étienne, of course.

‘Alright,’ she said at last. ‘He did make the marks on my wrists the other day. But not the bruise on my face. It’s perfectly true, I did fall.’

She felt limp all over, weak with relief at having admitted it. It was the first time in over ten years of marriage that she’d spoken truthfully to anyone about Bruno’s abuse. She’d never even discussed it openly with Lili, although the older woman knew, she was sure of it, from some of the things she said and from the caring way she behaved towards her.

Suddenly Bauer had left the desk and was kneeling in front of her. He took her hand in his and was looking straight into her eyes.

‘I admire you, madame,’ he said. ‘It takes bravery to admit such a thing. I could see it in your eyes the first time we met. You are strong and brave, but also very proud. Please don’t let this happen again. I urge you, for your own safety, you should leave the farm.’