Darkest Longings (66 page)

evacuate their homes to make room for German officers, I and she knew there was no appeal.

‘May I ask why you have chosen to come to Lorvoire?’ she

said. ‘There are many other chateaux in the region, some of ;

them unoccupied.’

‘I think,’ the Colonel answered, sweeping an arm towards

the imposing facade, ‘that must speak for itself. However, as

your menfolk are not at present in residence, we shall not

require you to move out. There will be room for us all.’ His

smile sent a shiver down Claudine’s spine. ‘I have been

assured of the most excellent hospitality here,’ he continued,

walking past her and up the steps into the chateau. ‘I

am told there is an apartment on the second floor that will

suit my needs admirably.’

For a moment, as the Colonel gazed at the paintings in

the hall, then ran his finger over the highly polished

sideboard, Claudine could only look on. Then, with an

effort, she pulled herself together. ‘I think you will find our

circular guest room much more to your liking,’ she said

equably. ‘I will ask the butler to show you the way.’

‘There is no need, madame, you can show me to the apartment yourself.’

‘I have no intention of doing any such thing,’ she retorted

grandly. ‘As a guest in my home you will reside in a guestroom?

‘I think you misunderstand, madame. I am not a guest in

your home, it is you who are the guest, and as such …’

He broke off as Solange, an apron over her dress and a

scarf wound like a turban round her head, came out of the

dining-room, waving her hands in the air and gabbling

under her breath. She stopped suddenly when she saw the

German, then with her eyes nearly popping from her head

she barked , ‘Who are you?’

‘This is Colonel Blomberg, Solange,’ Claudine answered

for him. ‘He is going to be staying with us for a while, in the

circular guest room.’

‘Enough of this!’ Blomberg bellowed, marching past

them and starting up the stairs. ‘Bring in my baggage. he

called to the officer who was standing to attention at the top

of the steps.

Claudine and Solange glanced at one another, then

Claudine went swiftly up the stairs after the Colonel.

‘Your room is this way,’ she snapped as they reached the

first landing, but ignoring her the Colonel walked the few

steps to the second flight of stairs and continued up.

Gritting her teeth, Claudine watched him, his long black

boots creaking as he moved, and tried to decide what the

hell she should do. But come what may, she wasn’t going to

give up her rooms for anyone, least of all a despicable little

toad lie Blomberg.

‘This is your bedchamber, I take it?’ he said, as she came

into the sitting-room of the apartment and found him on the

threshold of her room. ‘So over there must be your

husband’s,’ he went on, not waiting for her to answer.

How on earth did he know so much, she wondered as he

walked across to Francois’ room, threw open the door and

looked in. ‘Mm, this should suit me well,’ he grunted. ‘In

fact, it is all I shall need, so I see no reason for you to leave

your room.’ He turned to look at her, and she felt herself

shrink from the gleam in his eye. ‘We could become very

good friends, I think. As a matter of fact, your husband

assures me we shall. A most obliging man, your husband.

Not only does he offer me his home, but he has offered me

his wife too. Most generous, don’t you agree? I had thought

to refuse the offer, but now I have met you, madame…’ He

ran his tongue over his lips and lowered his hungry eyes to

her breasts.

Claudine’s head was spinning. This disgusting little man

knew Francois! Claimed that Francois had … She took a

breath to try and steady herself. Francois would never,

never have made such an offer. Unless …

Oh, dear God, the very thought that he had undergone

any degree of torture made her feel faint. Her eyes moved

back to Blomberg. He was so unlike the other Germans she

had met, but she had heard plenty of rumours of how they

were behaving in other places. It was incredible, he hadn’t

been in her home five minutes, and already …

Mentally, she shook herself; she must think, and think

fast. If she was right, and Francois had been forced into

making the offer, what might happen to him if she refused?

On the other hand, Blomberg could be lying… There was

nothing for it, she had to try to bluff it out.

She turned away and walked imperiously towards the

door. Then, with her head held so high that she had to look

at Blomberg down the length of her nose, she said in a

dangerously low voice, ‘May I remind you, monsieur, that

you are not in a bordello, but in the ancestral home of the

Comtes de Rassey de Lorvoire. If you are intending to stay,

therefore, I suggest you learn some manners. Now, remove

yourself from this room before I am forced to send someone

to Chinon to report your outrageous behaviour to General

Kahl.’

Blomberg’s repulsive face contorted in a snarl as he

started towards her. Somehow she stood her ground. When

he reached her he lifted a hand to strike, but when she didn’t

even so much as flinch he turned away, snorting with disgust,

and stumped out of the room.

Shaking with relief, Claudine leaned back against the

wall. Her bluff had worked - so far - and silently she

thanked God for General Kahl, for it was undoubtedly his

name that had saved the day. But Francois, where was he,

and what in God’s name was happening to him?

She found Blomberg in the circular room, where Solange

was bustling around him, patting his arm, pulling back the

covers from the bed and calling him Monsieur Allemand. Claudine couldn’t resist a smile. Solange was playing her

part well, and the Colonel was clearly irritated beyond words.

‘Get this confounded woman out of here!’ he roared, when he saw Claudine at the door. ‘And tell your cook I’d like dinner served at seven o’clock sharp.’

‘Of course, Hen Colonel? Claudine said smoothly. She had scored her victory for that day and wasn’t inclined to fight again - or not just yet. However, there was one point

she couldn’t resist scoring. Taking Solange by the hand, she arched her brows, and again making him aware of his lack of height, said, ‘Monsieur, I’m sure you won’t mind my

pointing out that it would be more suitable to address my

mother-in-law as Madame la Comtesse.’

As she closed the door, she clapped a hand over Solange’s

mouth so the Colonel wouldn’t hear her shriek of laughter.

‘Dignity, Maman? she hissed. ‘We’re going to make that

appalling man shrivel in the face of it.’

Knowing that for all sorts of reasons it would be unwise for

her to enquire about Francois herself, Claudine left it to

Solange, who brought the subject up over dinner that very

night.

‘My daughter-in-law informs me that you are an

acquaintance of my son’s,’ she began, peering with keen

interest at the fork the Colonel was holding.

Reddening, Blomberg looked at it too, and Claudine

turned away before he could see her smiling. Solange was

purposely unnerving him, making him question his table

manners, though in fact had been using the correct

implements throughout the meal.

‘May I ask when you last saw him?’ Solange continued.

‘At the end of June,’ Blomberg replied, dabbing the

corner of his rubbery mouth with a napkin.

‘And where was that?’ Solange said pleasantly.

‘In Germany, of course.’

‘Where in Germany?’ Monique enquired.

Blomberg gave a haughty smile. ‘I am not at liberty to say,’

he answered, nodding to Magaly who was standing at his

elbow with the coffee pot.

Solange yawned. ‘In my experience,’ she said, ‘when

someone gives that answer it is because they don’t know.’

Watching her over the rim of his cup, the Colonel took a

sip of coffee, then set it back in the saucer. ‘As a matter of

fact,’ he said ‘I spent rather a pleasant evening in Monsieur Comte’s company - at the home of my brother-in-law.’

‘Are we acquainted with your brother-in-law?’ Solange

asked grandly.

‘I should think it unlikely. His name is Max Helber.’

Somehow Claudine managed to keep an expressionless

face, as she made a series of quick deductions. If anything

had passed between Helber and Francois, Francois had

clearly not managed to obtain Halunke’s identity or he

would have sent word by now. It was appalling to think that

Francois might have submitted himself to Helber to no

purpose … She would not even consider that possibility,

she must put it out of her mind.

‘No, we don’t know him,’ Solange sighed. She inhaled

the delicious smell of freshly mown grass wafting in through the open window. ‘I take it my son was in good health when you saw him, Colonel?’

‘He was - then,’ Blomberg answered.

Not one of them missed the emphasis.

‘What do you mean, then? Solange barked.

‘Maman, I think the Colonel is playing games with us,’

Claudine interrupted. ‘As he said, he hasn’t seen Francois

since June and it is now the beginning of September. It is my

belief that he doesn’t have the first idea where Francois is

now, so shall we save our breath for a stroll in the water

garden?’

The four of them walked out into the cool evening air,

and Tante Celine shook her head warningly at Claudine.

‘He is not a man to cross, cherie,’ she warned. ‘He may be a

German, but he is also a colonel. As such, he is used to

respect.’

‘Respect is something you earn, Tante Celine,’ Claudine

answered crisply, ‘not something you demand.’

She hadn’t told any of them what had passed between her

and Blomberg in her apartment that afternoon. Nor would

she - because if it ever came to the point where Francois’

life depended on it, she would be forced to succumb to his

loathsome blackmail, and she would rather die than have

anyone in the world know about it. And now that he had

mentioned Max Helber’s name, she could no longer be

under any illusion that his presence at the chateau was a

mere coincidence. But what he hoped to do or discover here

was something she could only guess at…

The evening had turned chilly. Claudine, looking up at

the peachy-yellow sky, suddenly felt her skin start to prickle.

She spun round, half expecting to find someone behind her,

but there was no one. Even so, she was certain that someone

was following her progress through the garden, if only with

his eyes, and if it hadn’t been so close to curfew she would

have sent someone to the village for Armand.

It was a morning in mid-November. Claudine and Monique

were in the village, watching with much amusement as

Solange pedalled unsteadily round the square, with

Liliane’s bemused face poking up over the rim of the box

Armand had attached to the bicycle.

‘It’s a triumph!’ Claudine declared, delighted to see

Solange back in spirits again. She had cried herself to sleep

in Claudine’s arms the night before, not only because she

missed Louis so terribly, but because not one of the young

village men who had returned from the front in the past

weeks had been able to give her news of Lucien.

‘Isn’t it?’ Solange called back. ‘We can even go into

Chinon together,’ she told Liliane. ‘Of course, we shall have

to walk up the hill, but going down the other side will be no

problem.’

‘It might be wise to get Armand to adjust the brakes,’

Gustave muttered. ‘That hill is quite steep, you know.’

‘Good idea,’ Claudine laughed. ‘I’ll talk to him.’

Her relationship with Armand was easier now. He hadn’t

mentioned Estelle since the night he first talked of her, but he

definitely seemed calmer, more his old self. It was over two

months since she had had that feeling that Halunke was back,

watching her, but both she and Armand were still on edge. At

least Armand told her he was, but she’d got the impression

lately that Armand’s concern was merely a pretence. But then,

how could she expect him to care so much any more.

‘How is your colonel settling in at the chateau?’ Gustave

asked as they strolled over to the cafe.

‘I think he’s comfortable,’ Claudine answered demurely.

Monique gave a shout of laughter. ‘Don’t you listen to a

word of it, Gustave! One glance from Madame la Comtesse here, and our Colonel simply withers.’

‘Monique’s exaggerating,’ Claudine grinned. ‘We’ve

hardly seen him since the day he arrived.’

‘He’s avoiding you, that’s why!’ Monique said. ‘He really

is the most repellent man to look at, though, so perhaps it’s

just as well. Have you noticed the way he breaks into a sweat

when he’s angry? And he’s always angry with you, Claudine.

Incidentally, Hans, his chauffeur, told me he still suspects

that you’re responsible for the acts of sabotage on his car.’

‘I’d hardly call three flat tyres and a leaking petrol tank