sabotage,’ Claudine protested. ‘Unfortunate, perhaps …’
‘Have you managed to discover who really is doing it yet?’
Claudine shook her head. ‘I thought it might have been
Armand, but…’
She turned, hearing someone call her name, and saw
Janette and Robert Reinberg running across the square
from the river bank, followed by their mother. ‘Ah, seeing
Gertrude reminds me,’ she said. ‘I need some new trousers.
What about you, Monique? Didn’t you say wanted some
too?’
‘I’ll say. The last pair Gertrude made were marvellous.
So comfortable. Does she have any fabric, though?’
‘Let’s ask her.’
But as they walked over to talk to her, they were
astonished to see Florence Jallais come out of her front door
and spit on the cobbles right in front of her.
Both Claudine and Monique were outraged, and seeing
Claudine storm across the square towards her, Florence Jallais
scuttled back into her house and slammed the door, ‘Open this
door now!’ Claudine shouted, banging it with her fist.
‘No, leave it,’ Gertrude said softly. ‘Please, madame?
‘But she can’t do that to you!’
‘I’m afraid she can.’
‘What’s going on?’ Solange cried, bringing her bicycle to
a halt beside them.
Claudine swung round ‘Florence Jallais just spat at
Gertrude.’
‘Oh la la!’ Liliane said, opening the little door in her box
and climbing out. ‘I spoke to her the last time.’
‘You mean she’s done it before?’
‘What’s that you’re wearing?’ Solange asked suddenly,
seeing the yellow badge on Gertrude’s cardigan.
They all looked at it. There was one word on the badge: juive. Jewess.
‘We all have to wear them now, madame,’ Gertrude said,
averting her eyes to hide her misery.
‘By whose orders?’ Claudine wanted to know.
‘I believe, by Hitler’s own.’
Claudine’s nostrils flared. ‘Monique! Solange! Come
along, we’re going to Gertrude’s,’ she ordered.
‘Please, madame,’ Gertrude begged. ‘We don’t want any
more trouble. The children are suffering enough as it is.’
‘I’m not going to make trouble, Gertrude,’ Claudine
assured her. ‘At least, not for you.’
That evening, when Colonel Blomberg returned to the
chateau for dinner, he found the four women already
halfway through their meal. His protruding bottom lip
quivered with fury, but he took his seat silently at the head of the table.
It was as the watery vegetable soup was being ladled into
his bowl that he noticed the badge Solange was wearing. His
eyes narrowed as he looked at each of the other women in
turn. They were all sporting the same badge of bright yellow
card with the word Catholique emblazoned across it.
The meal continued in silence until the women finished
and stood up to leave the room.
‘Madame,’ Blomberg said then, looking at Claudine. ‘I
should be obliged if you could spare me a few moments in
my room later. I will send for you when I am ready.’
Claudine nodded curtly and followed the others out into
the hall.
‘It’s sure to be about our badges,’ Celine whispered,
pushing open the door to the sitting-room.
‘Well, I for one am not taking mine off until Gertrude
Reinberg is allowed to take hers off,’ Solange stated.
The neither,’ Monique said, looking back over her
shoulder at the German soldier stationed outside the
dining-room. It was Hans, the one who generally acted as
Blomberg’s chauffeur.
Claudine didn’t miss the smile that passed between them,
and was glad to think that Monique had won his friendship.
They needed all the allies they could get when Blomberg
resented them so bitterly. Then she shuddered. Having the
Germans in their own home like this, invading their privacy,
contaminating their daily lives, was intolerable.
There was no wireless to listen to now; wirelesses had
been confiscated soon after the occupation began.
Monique, however, had managed to secrete one in her
room, but they listened to it only rarely: the penalty for
keeping a wireless was twenty-one days’ imprisonment.
‘What do you think Blomberg does all day?’ Celine
wondered as she selected a record to play on the gramophone.
‘He goes to the Chateau d’Artigny,’ Claudine answered. ‘It’s been taken over by the Germans since Admiral Darlan left, it’s their regional headquarters.’
‘Oh? How do you know that?’ Monique enquired.
‘Armand followed him,’ Claudine answered simply.
‘But why?’
‘Because I asked him to.’
There was a tap on the door, and Hans, the handsome
young German officer came in. ‘The Colonel wishes to see
you now, madame?
‘Tell the Colonel I will be with him shortly,’ Claudine
answered.
‘But…’
‘I’m going to say goodnight to my son. I will be with the
Colonel shortly,’ she said with deliberation, and sailing past
him, she went upstairs to the nursery.
‘So, you think yourself clever for keeping me waiting?’
Blomberg said when he opened his door to her ten minutes
later.
‘Colonel,’ she replied in a bored voice, ‘running this
chateau keeps me extremely busy and you simply have to
wait your turn. Now, what is it you would like to discuss with
me?’
Scarcely managing to contain his anger, Blomberg said,
‘The badge, madame. Take it off!’
‘There is no law prohibiting the wearing of badges,’
Claudine said coolly.
‘It is a deliberate insult to the Reich.’
‘That I am a Catholic?’ she said incredulously. ‘How can
that be?’
‘I am not arguing with you on this matter! Take it off, or I
shall take it off for you.’
Claudine looked at him with evident amusement, then
calmly folding her arms, she turned to look out of the
window.
He caught her a blow to side of her head that made stars
dance before her eyes, but she gritted her teeth and turned
to look him straight in the eye. ‘Only a coward strikes
women,’ she began - then gasped as he took hold of the
badge and tore it from her blouse. The fabric ripped,
exposing the silk of her camisole underneath.
‘I hope that makes you feel better,’ she said. ‘Now, if you
have quite finished I should like to return to my family.’
‘Don’t you mean your husband’s family?’ he said, as she
reached the door.
His emphasis on ‘husband’ made her turn back. There
was a new glint in his eyes, and she suddenly realized they
were only now coming to the point of why he had asked her
here. ‘I have news of your husband,’ he said, strolling across
the room and settling himself on the sofa beneath the
window. Behind him the sun was setting in a blaze of
orange, and she could no longer see his face. ‘How long has
it been since you saw him now?’ he said. ‘Six months?
Seven?’
‘I have no idea,’ she replied. ‘I don’t keep count.’
Blomberg chuckled. ‘I was told there was no love lost
between you. So I take it you are not in the least interested in
knowing what he is doing - or where he is?’
‘Not in the least,’ she confirmed.
‘Then I shall inform my brother-in-law that the efforts he
has made to keep you abreast of your husband’s career are
wasted.’
‘Yes, you tell him that,’ she smiled, and opened the door
to leave.
‘Oh, no, no, no,’ Blomberg’s voice said behind her, and
immediately the German officer Hans stepped into her
path, indicating that she should return to the room.
Claudine sighed with exasperation as the door closed
behind her. ‘All right,’ she said, folding her arms. ‘You
clearly want to tell me something regarding my husband, so
get on with it.’
‘I must inform you, madame, that this is the last time I
shall overlook your insolence. If you speak to me in that tone
again, it is not you who will suffer but your husband.’
Claudine closed her eyes. ‘As I have no regard for my
husband, or his welfare,’ she said through gritted teeth, ‘you
are wasting your time …’
‘I doubt if your mother-in-law would take that attitude,’
Blomberg interrupted. ‘I heard just the other day that the
fingers of Monsieur le Comte’s left hand have been broken,
and I could not help wondering how his mother would react
to a graphic description of his - what shall we call them? injuries,
and how they were obtained. There are other
injuries too, of course, but I shall save the details for la
Comtesse. Unless you would prefer I didn’t tell her at all. The
choice is yours, madame?
Claudine’s face had paled. ‘You’re lying!’ she hissed.
‘Ami?’
‘I know why you are doing this,’ she seethed, ‘but unlike
you, Colonel, I don’t make threats. I make promises, and
here’s one for you. If you lay so much as a finger on me, I
give you my word I’ll kill you.’
Blomberg laughed. ‘I think not.’
‘Then you’re a fool.’
‘Even if you were able to carry out your promise - which I
doubt - think what repercussions such an act would have on
your family, Claudine.’ He saw how her nostrils flared at his
use of her Christian name, and could not suppress a smile.
‘Oh,’ he went on, ‘and before you threaten me again with the
intervention of General Kahl, I should inform you that I
have now been given sole - and unequivocal - authority to
deal with this family as I see fit. I have no intention of, as you
put it, laying a finger on you; I want only to see you
humiliated, in the way you have tried to humiliate me. You
may start by removing your clothes.’
‘You must be out of your mind!’ she sneered.
‘Madame la Comtesse, your mother-in-law,’ he said,
getting to his feet, ‘is not of stable mind, is she? It would be a
shame, would it not, to unhinge her further for the sake of
your dignity? After all, that is all I require from you, madam. Not such a great price, when one weighs it against the one la Comtesse would have to pay if you refuse me.’
‘You are a disgusting little man!’ Claudine spat.
‘You make things worse for yourself by addressing me in
that fashion,’ he replied smoothly, and with a quick flick of
his wrist he slapped his gloves across her face.
Claudine saw red. Before she could stop herself, she had
twisted his arm so brutally behind his back that she heard
the bones crack.
‘Hans! Hans!’ he squealed, and the door flew open to
admit the young soldier. A gun was pressed between
Claudine’s shoulder-blades, and knowing she could do
nothing else, she let the Colonel go.
‘All right, Hans,’ Blomberg said, purple in the face and
puffing as he massaged his shoulder. A thin film of sweat
had broken out on his skin, and his grotesque bottom lip was
coated in saliva.
Hans went away again, and Claudine knew she had made
a grave error. That Blomberg had had to call for a junior
officer because he had been attacked by a woman would
make him the laughing-stock of the Chateau d’Artigny. But
she refused to flinch as he approached, and when he
grasped the rip in her blouse and tore it right down the front,
she only looked back at him with contempt.
‘Undress yourself, whore!’ he snarled. ‘Do it now, or I shall
instruct my colleagues in Germany to step up the torture of
your husband. And then I shall tell your mother-in-law why I
have been obliged to take that step. I’m sure you can imagine
how she will feel to know that you might have saved him.’
Staring into his eyes with unmitigated loathing, Claudine
peeled away the shreds of her blouse, then unfastened her
skirt, telling herself all the time that her body was merely a
product of nature, that it meant nothing to reveal it. But if he
made one move to touch her, she would break his neck …
‘All right,’ he rasped, when she stood naked in front of
him. He loosened his collar and tried to speak again. ‘Walk
over to the window.’
She sauntered to the window, turned, and walked back
again. Then, remembering that his intention was to humiliate
her, she decided to let him believe he had succeeded.
That way, it might be over sooner.
‘Can I put my clothes back on now?’ she said meekly,
covering her breasts with her hands and crossing her legs.
‘No!’ she answered. ‘Go and stand by the mirror.’
She did as he instructed, forcing tears into her eyes to add
to her masquerade of disgrace.
‘That’s it,’ he said, ‘turn so I can see you from behind as
well as in front. Good. Hans.’
Again the door opened, and when Hans came in and saw
the lady of the house standing naked in front of the mirror,
he quickly averted his eyes.
‘Look at her!’ Blomberg growled. ‘That’s what she’s
there for.’
Hans’s young face was beet red as he obeyed the order
and allowed his pale blue eyes to travel the length of Claudine’s exquisite body. Claudine hung her head in mock shame. She wondered if Hans was clever enough to realize
that this was something he was expected to tell his fellow
officers about.