The Paris Time Capsule (11 page)

Loic
was close behind her. It was better to stay put; otherwise she could clearly give out the wrong message. He would think she was affected. The last thing she needed was that.

His arms were around her body, his hands on hers on the bell.

“Une, deux, trois … pull!”

Cat pulled.

An enormous peal belted through the valley. Cat wrenched her hands up to her ears, but Loic beat her to it. His hands were warm on the sides of her bare head.

She turned to face him.

His eyes were dancing with mirth. Gently, he took his hands away from her ears when the bell stopped.

“
It’s colder up here,” Cat said.

“
It is warmer down in the valley,” Loic’s dark eyes caught her own.

“
Bonjour Loic!” The gate was opened almost straight away, slow and steady. Had there been a nun hiding behind it all the time?

“
Soeur Susanne,” Loic leaned forward and kissed the middle-aged nun who held the gate open for them on the cheek.

“
Loic?”

“
This is Catherine Jordan,” he said. He appeared to tell Soeur Susanne why they had come there, in French.

“
Ah,” Soeur Susanne held out a soft hand to shake Cat’s. “C’est difficile pour vous maintenant, non?” It is difficult for you at this time?

“
Oui,” Loic said. “Maintenant est bon pour vous?” It is good for you?

“
Oui.”

“
Oh, bien. Merci. Je … vite. I … quick! My questions are vite!”

Susanne smiled and opened the gate.

“Glad you’ve got that sorted,” Loic drawled behind her.

Cat felt her heart rate climbing as high as the hill. How on earth was she supposed to conduct an interview about something she knew so little about with zero French and a translator who appeare
d to be determined to make fun of her?

“
Soeur Marguerite keeps all the records,” Loic whispered into Cat’s ear.

“
Sure,” Cat said. That this was a mad mission was for certain. What had she been thinking?

“
Merci!” Cat said, as Soeur Susanne stood back to allow her to go first down a long, dark corridor. It was lit with the occasional wall sconce, but after the clear Provencal light outside, Cat had to blink a few times to adjust to the dimness.

“
Keep walking,” Loic said from behind.

“
I am.”

They passed several closed doors on eith
er side of the passage. Susanne and Loic chatted in French until the hallway widened into a circular opening. Several wooden doors with curved tops led off it. There was a rug on the floor in the middle of the area, and a round table, with a small statue of the Virgin Mary.

Susanne
knocked on the farthest door to the right, turning the handle at the same time. She popped her head inside and then came to speak to Loic.

“
Sister Marguerite is at prayer,” Loic said. “I told her we would wait.”

Soeur Susanne
kissed him on the cheek. She said something in French, and then bustled off up the hallway.

Cat hovered on the spot, folded her arms,
and looked at the floor.

Loic
leaned against the wall. “Marguerite has been here the longest, so if anyone knows anything, it will be her.”

Cat nodded.

“So,” he said. “Have you got a list of questions?”

Irritation bit into Cat, but she held back any response.

The sound of a door closing sliced into the space, then, footsteps.

“
Ah, Loic, bien, bien.” A nun, whose wrinkled face was almost as pale as her wimple, bustled up to Loic. He leaned down to kiss the tiny woman her on the cheek.

“
Ca va?” she asked him.

“
Oui, ca va, bien. Soeur Marguerite, Madame Catherine Jordan.”

The hand that Marguerite held out was small and soft. As the nun led them into her office, she carried on some small talk with
Loic. The name Isabelle came into the conversation several times, but it seemed quite clear that Marguerite was only asking Loic how Sylvie was coping with her mother’s passing.

When they all sat down at Marguerite’s simple table,
Loic started on the story in French. It was hard to know whether to look at Marguerite or not, as the older woman’s eyes widened until it looked as if they would pop.

When
Loic finished, there was a pause, and then Marguerite held out her little hand and patted Cat’s.

Cat felt herself relax back into her hard seat a little.

Marguerite began talking, rapid fire, to Loic. This was punctuated with the odd shrug. Easy to interpret. Marguerite wasn’t able to help.

Cat chewed on her bottom lip.

“Pardon, Madame,” Marguerite said, shaking her head.

Loic
turned to Cat. “Grand-mere arrived here on foot, pregnant, and desperate. The nuns don’t ask people about their pasts. It is up to visitors if they want to talk. It is well known that Grand-mere didn’t. They came to care for her, and she cleaned for them. That was all.”

Marguerite made a comment. She sounded a little bossy now.

“Marguerite has offered that we go through the visitors’ records. It’s our only option.”

“
It’s a start.” Cat followed Marguerite and Loic out the door.

The record’
s office was in a circular turret, way up at the top of the convent. Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows that surrounded the room. Marguerite asked them to wait on the rug in the center of the floor.

“
Presumably this was the safest place to store everything,” Loic said, as Marguerite unlocked another door, and disappeared into another room.

“
You can see my house, look, Cat, there,” he said, pointing down to the valley.

Cat went to stand beside him.  She could see the roof of his house. It was a large U shape.

“I’m looking at buying another property, that one, to the left.”

“
Oh, great,” Cat said, knowing she sounded vague. What on earth was the matter with her? She focused like mad on where he was pointing.

“
I’m planning on turning it into more vineyards, putting another manager in the house. One of my employees has been terrific. He has four children. Would get them all out of the town, kids into the countryside. Perfect for them, if he wants to do it, of course.” When he turned to Cat, his face was lit up.

The door opened. Marguerite bustled in with two great books in her arms. Slowly, she pushed the door shut.
Loic took the heavy old books from her, and put them carefully on the table.

“
1940,” Loic translated. “Marguerite has things to do. I can stay and help you, Cat … if you want.”

The navy blue books were enormous.

“Café pour deux?” Marguerite asked. She sounded pleased with her work.

“
Oui, merci.” Cat smiled at the old woman. She turned to Loic, “I think I’ll need all the help you can give me.”

After three hours, neither of them had found a thing. Reading endless entries, mostly in a jaunty, upright hand, the fountain pen never smudged once, was becoming exhausting.

“
I’ve read four months of entries and exits,” Cat said. “Seemed they wrote a record every time a nun walked out the door.”

Loic
had taken off his jacket, rolled up his shirtsleeves. His dark head was bent over the other book. “A lot of people seeking alms, in this one. Are you hungry, Cat?”

“
Starving.”

“
Here,” Loic pulled a chocolate bar out of his pocket. Held it out to her.

“
What, no three course meal?”

Loic
raised a brow. “Not many French women would eat it, you know. I bet you’re not so scared.”

Cat felt herself smiling.
“What are you saying?”

“
You obviously take good care of yourself, Cat.”

Cat pulled open the wrapper.
“Do I?” she said, taking a nibble of the thing. It was good. “This is good.”

“
It’s French.”

The bar was rich, and too much for one.
“Want some?” She held it out to Loic.

“
Yeah, thanks,” he leaned forward, broke a piece off the end.

“
Back to work,” Cat said, after a while.

Another hour went by. The sun had moved, and now shone directly into Cat’s eyes.

“Need to move?”

Cat slid the heavy book around to the other side of the table. She was nearly at its end.

“Have you any ideas what we should do if we find nothing here?” Cat asked, turning yet another enormous page full of tight handwriting. The problem was if she didn’t scan everything meticulously, she would surely miss something.

Loic
went quite still. “Cat,” he said.

Cat pushed her chair back, but it caught against the tip of the rug, and she almost knocked the chair over onto the floor. She twisted her long hair away from her face, behind her head, and whisked across to look over
Loic’s shoulder.

He pointed at the page in front of him.

Cat’s phone rang.

“
Oh, darn it. I have to take this call.”

“
Honey!” Christian’s voice was a faint scratch in Cat’s ear.

“
The reception … I can’t hear.” Cat moved away from Loic, but kept her eyes trained on him. He had a piece of paper and a pencil, was writing things down.

Christian said something; it was unclear.

Then, “Put me on speaker! Important!”

Cat glanced at
Loic. He appeared to be absorbed in the record books. “Look, can I call you back?”

Christian’s reply was undecipherable.

“I’m not alone.” This was in a loud stage whisper.

“
No! Urgent!”

Cat moved towards the turret’s door. She could hear voices outside. At least two nuns were in the space outside the door.

“Need to be quick!” Christian shouted.

“
Oh, God,” Cat muttered. She glanced at Loic again. He hadn’t moved. Wincing, she put the phone onto speaker mode.

“
Honey! What’s the delay?” Christian’s voice belted through the entire space.

Loic
seemed to shift a bit in his chair, but he didn’t look up.

“
Not alone here, Christian …”

“
Mother wants to announce our engagement in the New York Times. This weekend. They’re doing it. Normally, they need six weeks notice!”

“
Oh.”

“
Right. Honey, they need to know the school you attended, all your awards and achievements, your parents’ place of residence and both their occupations. Even though they are deceased.” He coughed.

Loic
looked up.

Cat moved right to the very corner of the room.

“Charity events you’ve attended recently, honey.”

“
Me?”

“
Work with me, honey. Please.”

The room felt rather hot. The nuns outside laughed at something. They sounded very cheerful.
Loic had put his pen down; his eyes were right on her. His eyes were crinkling at the corners.

“
Honey?”

“
Um, can I email you tonight?”

“
Cat! If we don’t get it to them within the half hour it won’t happen at all.”

Loic
shrugged at her, and grinned. He pointed to the journal in front of him, gave that a thumbs up too.

Cat gritted her teeth.
“I went to the local regional high school.”

“
That won’t do,” Loic said, almost under his breath.

Cat glared at him.
“My parents lived in Durham, Connecticut, all the time they were married. Didn’t you know that already?

“
Did their residence have a name, honey?” Christian sounded patient.

“
They need the street address?”

There was a silence.
“Your father worked for the office of policy and management. Okay. Mother, Bonnie stayed home, didn’t she, honey?”

“
Sure.”

There was the sound of furious typing.

“Awards, honey?”

“
Me?” Cat paced around in small, repetitive circles. She glared at Loic. “I won the bubble gum blowing contest at the Durham county fair when I was fourteen.”

Loic
collapsed on the table.

Christian groaned.

Cat smiled and went on. “My mom used to do cooking for people in need. I helped her deliver the food. But they never gave me a prize. I never asked.” She stared at Loic.

Christian went quiet.
“Honey.”

“
Yes?”

“
That’s absolutely fine.”

Loic
sat up.

Cat smiled.
“Fine?”

“
I like it.”

“
Right!” Cat held her head up. “Perfect, then. Talk soon.”

“
When are you coming home? Elise’s onto the engagement party. Three hundred guests. A garden party, the Hampton’s. String quartet. Elegant finger food. Although, mother and I voted for the Frick. You have a preference? When did you say you’d be home?”

“
Soon. I’ll be home soon.”

“
I’ll book you a flight tomorrow, then?”

“
Christian … I can’t.”

He hung up the phone.

Loic pushed his chair back. “Okay, then, Madame Bubble Gum, what are you doing tonight?”

Cat moved back to the t
able. “What have you found, Loic?”

But
Loic was in her way. “Have a break tonight. Come to an engagement party in the village. In the square. Plastic chairs. Paper napkins. Entire village, communal cooking.”

Cat gave him a look.
“Tell me about the entry.”

“
Look at this.” Loic rested his finger on the yellowed page of the journal. The handwriting was clear. “Albi. Isabelle de Florian arrived here from Albi. On 22
nd
June, 1940, seeking alms.”

Cat moved over to stand next to him,
and then moved slightly away again.

“
Three hundred kilometers west from here. I hate to think of her walking.”

“
Pregnant, during the war,” Cat said, her voice quiet.

“
I know.”

“
No address in Albi, though.”

“
It’s a lead, Cat.” His voice was soft. “Shall we get out of here?”

“
Yes.” Cat pressed her hand to her forehead.

“
Come to the party tonight,” Loic said, as he stopped the bike outside Sylvie’s house. “Have some fun, Cat. Forget … everything for a few hours.”

Cat handed him back his helmet.

Gently, he gave it back to her. “Pick you up at eight?” His head was on one side.

“
I should be finding more leads.”

He held his hands in the air.
“Think of it as research,” he grinned.

“
I should be on the phone to New York too. There’s so much to do.”

“
Sure.” Loic revved up his engine.

“
Look -”

“
I can’t hear you.” Loic shouted. He flipped the brake off and disappeared down the street.

“
Oh, darn it,” Cat said, aloud to herself. She opened Sylvie’s unlocked door, went inside, and stomped straight upstairs for a bath. After that, she would call Christian.

“Honey, I’m in the middle of lunch. Clients. Can only talk for five minutes.”

Cat was in her
pajamas. Sylvie appeared for the third time at her bedroom door in her third possible outfit for the engagement party in the village square. This time, she had on a stunning black wool dress. It clung to Sylvie’s timeless curves perfectly. Cat gave her the thumbs up.

“
You cannot stay here alone, chérie.” Sylvie didn’t move from the doorway.

Cat pointed at her earphones, held up the phone.
“I’m so sorry, Sylvie. Things going on at home.”

Sylvie marched across the room.
“Party is in an hour. You cannot be on the phone all night. Is bad for you. Take a break, Cat. Be French!”

“
I looked at three apartments today,” Christian said. “The second one was the best. Closest to the park. Took Tasha and Scott with me. Tash sent you the link. Did you like it?”

“
Tash likes the apartment?”

Sylvie was still there.

Christian cleared his throat. “I thought you and she had similar taste.”

Cat thought about Tash’s clinical minimalism. Her children did not have toys.
“Oh, God, I should be home.”

Sylvie threw he
r arms in the air and went away.

“
No! Wait, Sylvie! I didn’t mean that! Not at all!”

“
What, honey?”

Cat lay back on the bed.
“What was the apartment like?”

“
Great kitchen. Good for entertaining. All white. I say we take it. We’ll have to make a move now.”

“
Cat.”

“
Loic!” Cat sat up on the bed, drew her fingers up to the top button of her pajamas.

“
What’s that honey?”

“
Nothing,” she whispered into the phone, sending Loic devil messages with her eyes. “Excuse me!” she hissed at him.

He leaned against the
doorframe, looking ridiculously handsome in an open necked shirt, black blazer and jeans. “Everyone is going. You can’t stay here.”