Northern Girl (17 page)

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Authors: Fadette Marie Marcelle Cripps

BOOK: Northern Girl
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‘Me an’ all!’ shouted Jeannie.

‘All right, Da, ah think ah know that be now,’ Mam called back, while the rest of the family fell about with laughter.

An hour or so later, with the joint of beef cooked, and the Yorkshire puddings nicely risen, the family gathered around the table, where they ate heartily. Grandda Elliott and Jeannie sat together, their Yorkshires covered in milk and sugar, while Rene looked on disapprovingly, eating hers with gravy.

Eventually, Grandda Elliott looked at Jeannie, and said, in a voice louder than it needed to be, ‘Ay, that was good, wasn’t it, pet? Ye’ll be ready fer yer roast dinner now, won’t yer?’

‘All right, Da, ah get the hint. Yer proper dinners are on a plate all ready for yer in the oven,’ Mam said, wiping her hands on the tea cloth, about to get up from the chair.

‘Sit still, Mam, I’ll get them,’ said Rene.

‘Mind yer get the oven cloth to open the oven door, the knob’ll be mighty hot be now,’ Hannah warned.

‘Yes, Mam, I’m not about to make that mistake again, my fingers still tingle sometimes, even now, after that last time.’

Once everyone was sorted out, the family settled down to catching up on each other’s news. They all had so much to tell, animated chatter and laughter
competing with the clattering cutlery – but it all came to a sudden halt when there was a loud knock on the back door.

They glanced at each other, and Hannah asked no one in particular, ‘Who on earth could that be at dinner time on a Sunday?’

She was about to get up when Tom, who was already on his feet, held up his hand to stop her, saying, ‘You sit still, Mam, I’ll get it!’

Chapter 13
Marck, France
Friday, 22 June 1945

‘Oh my goodness!’ cried Madeleine with a start. She put down the jacket, whose sleeves now fitted perfectly, wondering how long she’d been there. This is ridiculous, I must go downstairs, she thought, feeling on the floor for her shoes.

She hesitated for a moment on the bottom stair, wondering what kind of reception she’d get from her sisters.

‘Ah! There you are!’ Martine said, appearing not to notice how long she’d been gone. ‘The coffee is made, if you want to join us,’ she offered, as Madeleine walked sheepishly across the kitchen to where her two older sisters were sitting facing each other at the table.

‘Still no sign of Maman, then?’ Madeleine asked.

‘No. So you’re still safe. Maman doesn’t know yet about you disappearing at the fair,’ Simone said, not bothering to hide her sarcasm.

‘That’s enough, Simone,’ Martine retorted angrily. ‘
You
have no right to criticize your sister – or anyone else, for that matter! And don’t you forget it!’

‘Oh, I can see you’re
never
going to let me forget it!’ Simone blurted out angrily. Then, losing her temper completely, she added, ‘You and that Louis bloody Lamont! I wish neither of us had ever set eyes on him … Oh!’ She clapped her hand tightly over her mouth, looking remarkably like a naughty schoolgirl.

Martine just sat there, saying nothing for a moment. But there was no mistaking the look of defeat in her eyes as she looked up at Madeleine. ‘Well, now you know,’ she said. ‘You wondered why we came home earlier than expected. That’s the reason.’

‘But I don’t!’ Madeleine held her arms out in exasperation. ‘Don’t you think it’s time you explained things?’

Simone looked at them both in panic. She said, ‘Does this mean the whole family has to know?’

‘I think we can spare the rest of them!’ Martine said, glaring at her.

Madeleine poured herself the coffee she’d been offered, sure she was going to need it. Sitting back at the table, she looked at her two sisters, waiting for them to speak. ‘
Well?
’ she asked.

Simone immediately got up. ‘I’m not going to sit here, taking the blame for something that wasn’t entirely my fault.’


Sit … down … Simone!
’ Martine hissed. At that, though Madeleine was anxious what she might hear, a smile involuntarily twitched her lips. She’d sometimes
had the same urge to laugh in the school cellars during air raids. Serious situations often made her giggle. It was probably a kind of hysteria, she thought.

Martine poured herself another coffee, still without speaking, so that when she finally did say something, Madeleine jumped.

‘It was shortly after your last visit to us in Boulogne—’

‘You mean the time you sent me home early, without explaining why?’ Madeleine interrupted.

‘Yes, that time,’ Martine answered. ‘But please don’t ask me any questions about that just now. This will be easier and quicker if you don’t interrupt.’

Madeleine shrugged her shoulders. ‘OK. Sorry.’

Martine began again. ‘Shortly after your last visit about a year ago, I met a man, Louis Lamont.’ She could see that she had Madeleine’s full attention as she continued, ‘He was a customer at the bank where I worked, and he’d had an account there long before I moved to Boulogne. He was handsome
and
he knew it.’ Martine looked wistful, and paused before adding, ‘Anyway, it was obvious that the girls in the bank liked him, and he was well aware of it. He made a point of flirting with them, but he never came to my window. That is, until the day he asked me if I would like to have a drink with him when I finished work.’ She stopped again before adding, ‘I was very surprised, because I wasn’t even aware he had noticed me. He was charming and
very
persuasive, and, after some hesitation, I agreed. We talked a lot that day, and met quite frequently afterwards. It turned out that he knew lots of
people, many of them working in the nightclubs still being run in cellars below the rubble-strewn streets and deserted buildings. And as Simone was busy with her studies in the evenings …’ Martine glanced at Simone, who was looking decidedly uncomfortable, but continued, nonetheless, ‘Sometimes I went with him to the clubs, which was an exciting escape from day-to-day routine and the depressing sights on the streets. It was like another world down there. And, yes, he used to gamble a little – but he made no secret of it.’ Martine was answering a question that hadn’t even been asked.

‘Anyway, I didn’t mind,’ she continued, ‘Because I was having a good time. After a few months, I knew that I really liked Louis, loved him, even. And he told me he loved me.’ At this point, Martine flashed her eyes at Simone, who looked away immediately.

‘We became much closer after that.’ Martine glanced at Madeleine. ‘If you know what I mean?’

‘Of course I know what you mean!’ Madeleine said.

‘Anyway,’ Martine continued, ‘One day when we were out together, Louis became really worried and upset, telling me that the friend he’d been sharing a flat with had died. The flat was going to be sold, and he had to move out. I didn’t even have to think about it before saying he could move in with me. And your sister …’ She nodded towards Simone, ‘… had already met him by then, so everything was fine. Huh! That is, until a few months later, when I came home earlier than usual and decided to organise dinner ready, as a surprise.’

Simone had been fiddling nervously with her coffee
cup, but now, suddenly, she pushed her chair back as if she was going to leave.


Sit still!
’ Martine ordered. ‘You’re listening to this whether you like it or not.’ Then, glancing briefly at Madeleine, she said, ‘I think you can guess who got a surprise.’

Madeleine put her hand to her mouth and looked at Simone, horrified, while Martine continued, ‘I walked through the hall, where I picked up one of Simone’s shoes. Nothing unusual in that, as she was never very tidy. Then, when I went to put it away, I heard sounds – giggling, coming from her bedroom. I opened the door and there she was, cavorting on the bed … naked.’ Martine looked directly at Madeleine now, and asked, ‘And who do you think she was with, Madeleine?’

Madeleine whispered incredulously, ‘Louis. She was with Louis.’

‘Yes, she was with Louis.’ Martine glared at Simone, who was sobbing.

‘I’m so sorry, Martine,’ she said. ‘How many times can I say it? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ She jumped up, scraping the chair back across the tiles, and ran upstairs. Martine let her go. She’d said what she wanted. Accidentally triggered by Simone’s earlier outburst, this had been an opportunity for Martine to release her pent-up feelings at last.

Madeleine felt pity, not just for Martine, but for Simone, too, who was obviously suffering because she’d hurt her sister so badly. Maybe this would be a turning point for Simone, and in the future she would be more thoughtful.

Madeleine and Martine lingered at the table. Martine was staring blankly out of the window when Madeleine reached out and took her hand. ‘I’m sorry that you’ve had such heartache,’ she said gently. ‘I realize now why you’ve seemed so different since you’ve come home.’

Martine smiled weakly, gripping Madeleine’s hand. ‘Don’t be too distressed on my behalf,’ she said. ‘Because, in a roundabout way, Simone did me a favour.’

‘A favour?’ Madeleine looked puzzled.

‘Louis wasn’t just a womanizer. I discovered that after I’d thrown him out of the apartment, because only two days later, he was arrested.’

‘Arrested?’ Madeleine questioned in horror, ‘Arrested for what?’

‘Oh, wait till you hear
this
, my dear sister,’ Martine said, with a wry smile. ‘Then see what kind of man your elder – and supposedly sensible – sister fell in love with! Maybe then you’ll understand why I was so hard on you when you went off with this Tom at the fair today.’

‘Go on,’ Madeleine urged, fascinated.

‘He was arrested when he was caught passing information to a German officer. It was a few months before the end of the war, and this particular officer had been a frequent visitor at one of the nightclubs, which was obviously where Louis used to meet him. Anyway, apparently he had been paying Louis handsomely for information. Apparently, a close friend of Louis’s, who was in the Resistance, suspected him, and planted false information about a plan to blow up a particular railway bridge. When the Germans lay in wait at the bridge
and nothing had happened, Louis realized he’d been set up. So, panicking, and fearing reprisals from the Germans, he went to the gendarmes, hoping for protection.’ Martine added quietly, ‘Of course he was arrested, but, you see, there are gendarmes who are sympathetic to the Resistance. So I know I will never see Louis again. No one will …’

Madeleine kept quiet, waiting for Martine to continue. ‘The sums of money Louis had paid in to his account, and the dates he’d done it, were checked after his arrest. And because I knew the details, I was interviewed too.’

‘Oh, Martine!’ Madeleine exclaimed. ‘Weren’t you afraid they’d think you were involved? When they discovered he lived with you?’

‘At first, yes, I was. But fortunately they believed me. They’d been watching him for some time, and of course they knew he’d started doing it long before he met me. But they did check me out, too.’

Both girls were quiet for a few seconds, each dwelling on the situation in their own way. Then, abruptly, and with an obvious desire to finish the conversation, Martine got up, saying, ‘Anyway, that is how I spent my last year in Boulogne. But it’s over now. I’ve got to move on.’

‘It does explain an awful lot,’ said Madeleine.

Martine gave her sister a warm smile and said, ‘I know, and I should have told you before. I
will
try to remember that you’re not a child any more.’

‘Thank you,’ said Madeleine, pleased by this turn of events.

‘Now I’m going to see if I can help Simone put this behind her. I’m hoping that when I tell her Louis collaborated with the Germans for money, and that maybe she did me a favour after all, she will realize I’m willing to try to forgive her.’

‘You mean you haven’t told her about that?’ Madeleine was shocked.

‘No.’ Martine looked pensive. ‘But I’m starting to think that maybe she’s been punished enough for her selfishness. I just hope she’s learned something.’

Madeleine sat there a while longer, as her sister headed for the stairs and Simone’s room. What she had just learned about her two sisters had been a real revelation. And as she listened to the muted voices coming from the bedroom, she really hoped that this episode would clear the air between Martine and Simone once and for all.

Madeleine reminded herself that she still needed Martine to explain why she had sent her home from Boulogne so abruptly on that last visit. But she would have to choose the right time for that – and this certainly wasn’t it.

She’d just started to clear the coffee cups away when Maman opened the front door. ‘Hello, Maman,’ Madeleine called. ‘How was Tante Lucy?’

‘Oh, you know Tante Lucy, always the same,’ Maman replied in an amused voice. Hanging her coat on the hook behind the back door, she asked, ‘And how was your visit to the fair? Did you girls have fun?’

‘Yes, we had fun, Maman.’ Martine, coming down
the stairs, answered the question before Madeleine could. ‘It was lovely.’

Madeleine looked over at her and mouthed the word, ‘
Merci
.’ Then she turned back to Maman. ‘I rode on the carousel for the first time since I was tiny, and it was fantastic!’

‘I can’t remember the last time I had a fairground ride,’ Maman mused.

‘Well, you really should go this weekend, Maman. It will do you good.’

‘Oh, I think I’m past all that now,’ Maman answered, laughing.

‘Never, never, Maman. You need fun as much as the rest of us, if not more,’ Madeleine urged.

‘We’ll see,’ Maman said, more encouragingly. ‘Where is Simone?’ she asked. ‘Not still at the fair, surely?’

‘Oh no, Maman, she’s upstairs unpacking. After all, I didn’t give my sisters much of a chance to do it before dragging them off to the fair, did I?’ Madeleine said.

Maman, satisfied with this answer, went to get the vegetables out of the pantry.

Martine had wandered down the garden to the toilet, and Madeleine, guessing that she’d gone there to give her, Madeleine, time to talk to her mother, said cautiously, as she helped carry some carrots back to the kitchen, ‘We met an English soldier at the fair today, Maman. He was very nice.’

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