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“Go on home. Maybe he’s there already, even though he said he would come back to the shop.” Tina smiles. “Maybe he just forgot.”

Knowing her father never forgets anything, Andrée hugs her mother.

“Don’t be long. I’ll get lunch ready.”

Chapter Seven

“Papa, are you home? Papa?” Andrée calls out as she closes the door behind her.

Silence.

Hanging up her coat, hat, and gloves, she looks at the other hooks. All empty.

She is alone in the apartment.

Looking around the room, she’s drawn to the piano. She sits on the stool and begins to play. The slow, melodic notes of “Clair de Lune” fill the apartment as a sense of calm washes over her, transporting her to another place and time: the coast of Normandy, where she and her parents shared so many wonderful family holidays together. She doesn’t hear the front door open and her father enter.

As the last note fades, Andrée becomes aware of a presence behind her. Turning, she sees her father standing in the middle of the room, in his coat and hat.

“Still my favorite piece to hear you play. From the day we brought that piano home, you must have been four or five, you couldn’t wait to learn that one piece. Your poor tutor. You drove him crazy not wanting to practice arpeggios or simpler pieces. No, you had to get to ‘Clair de Lune’ straight away.”

“And now it’s Josie’s favorite,” Andrée says, removing her father’s hat and slipping the coat from his shoulders.

“Yes, and now it’s Josie’s favorite, and your mother and I get to hear it being played by a beginner all over again. Do you have any idea how happy I am to be reminded of such a wonderful time?”

Louis opens his satchel and removes documents that he will hide in the secret drawer in the kitchen.

“Did you forget you were meant to go to the shop after you left the colonel?” Andrée asks.

Louis stops what he is doing. “Oh dear! Yes, I forgot. I should go there now,” he says, moving back toward his coat.

“No, no, Papa. I stopped by after I’d seen Dancer. Maman is closing up about now; she’ll be home soon.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want her to be angry with me.”

“Maman is never cross with you—well, hardly ever.” Andrée smiles. “No, she just worries about you, especially when you’re with the colonel.”

She pauses.

“Why did he ask to see you today?”

“How about I wait until your mother’s home? That way I won’t have to say it twice.”

“Did I hear someone mention my name?” Tina says, coming into the apartment.

Louis stands and kisses his wife lightly on the lips, helping her out of her coat and then pulling out a chair for her to sit.

“I’ll get our lunch things, but you can start talking, Papa,” Andrée tells them.

Louis takes his time shuffling the files in front of him. “Tina, you’ll be pleased to know there is a table booked for us at Le Fleuron tomorrow for lunch.”

Tina and Andrée exchange glances. “Lunch at Le Fleuron, tomorrow,” Tina repeats.

“Yes. Table for two. Sorry, ma chère. Next time,” he tells Andrée.

Sighing, Andrée brings their modest lunch to the table: stale bread, which she’s warmed in the oven, a tiny piece of cheese for them to share, and three steaming cups of chicory coffee. “You have a meeting with Gypsy?”

“Yes.” Louis brings the hot liquid to his lips and sips.