Northern Girl (30 page)

Ginette gripped Madeleine’s arm. ‘No need to explain, I understand, but you must make a decision about this baby soon!’

Unexpectedly, Madeleine said, ‘I will get it done. I will have the abortion …’ She swallowed. ‘Tomorrow, if possible.’

‘Tomorrow!’ Nicole exclaimed. ‘But we’ve only just got back from there!’

‘I know … I know!’ Madeleine looked at Ginette. ‘That’s if you can arrange it again for me, please?’

Ginette looked into Madeleine’s eyes, and the hopelessness she saw there brought a lump to her throat. ‘Well, I’ll try … but if you back out again you won’t get another chance. Madame Cutto doesn’t like being messed around. Do you understand?’

‘I understand. It was just such a shock, meeting her, and seeing that room … and that box! But I know I have to do it. I know I do.’

‘Are you sure?’ Nicole asked, before adding tentatively, ‘Maybe you should wait a little longer before making up your mind.’

Fighting the panic inside her, Madeleine answered, ‘I’m sure. I’m going to do it. I can be brave when I need to be.’ Her voice trembled as she said this, and she looked round at them defiantly.

Dominic peered in through the window of the
boulangerie
for the umpteenth time, while Tom, drawing heavily on his cigarette, rattled and banged on the door.

A voice across the street called out, ‘It’s closed.’

They turned around to see an old woman sitting on her doorstep.

‘Oh, excuse me, do you know where a girl called Nicole, who works there, lives?’ Dominic asked hopefully.

‘Oh, that one!’ The old woman spat. ‘Well, the
boulangerie
is closed now.’

‘Yes, we know it is closed. That’s why we want to know how to find her.’ Dominic forced himself to be patient.

‘There’s no need to shout! I’m not deaf!’ the old woman retorted.

Tom dropped his cigarette to the ground and stamped it out with his foot, before walking over and crouching in front of the old woman, saying very slowly, in English, ‘Please, this is very important … do you know her address?’

‘Ah! An Engleesh man,’ she said with a glint in her eye. ‘I
like
ze Engleesh man.’ She grinned. Then, glancing disapprovingly at Dominic, who had annoyed her by his brusqueness, she asked, ‘Why do you want her? Is she in trouble? That one’s always in trouble!’

Dominic tried Tom’s tactic, and crouched down beside her, explaining as calmly as he could, ‘No, Nicole isn’t, but I think that my sister may be with her, and she
is
in trouble. Please, if you know where she lives,’ he begged, ‘tell us.’

‘Your sister, you say.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Well, you need to get her away from there as quickly as possible, before anything worse happens to her.’

‘The name of the road, please?’ There was a faint edge to Dominic’s tone now, which made it clear that he wouldn’t take much more of being messed around.

‘Rue de la Mer,’ the old woman said suddenly, pointing to her right.

‘
Merci
,’ said Tom, gratefully squeezing her hand.

Dominic impatiently dragged him away. ‘Come on, Tom!’

As they broke into a run the old woman’s shrill voice shouted from behind them, ‘Ask any man who lives round there, and he’ll show you where the house is!’

After a restless night, Madeleine, unable to eat, and feeling a desperate need for fresh air, went for a long walk.

Ginette had been to see Madame Cutto the night before, and after a lot of argument, succeeded in bribing her with a few extra francs to give Madeleine another chance. She was to be there at four o’clock sharp.

The day had dragged, and yet already it was time to go.

Once more Madeleine and Nicole were setting off for the docks, but this time, at Madeleine’s request, Ginette was going to go with them. At the bottom of the stairs they stopped, took a deep breath, and held hands before Ginette opened the front door.

The scene that greeted them outside was so horrendous that Ginette fell over in panic while trying to push the two girls back in. The seething angry mob had toppled Nicole over in the doorway, making it impossible to shut the door. Madeleine was trying to pull her friend free, when an enormous ruddy-faced woman, who Madeleine recognized as the one who’d spat at her and Nicole the previous day, pushed the door, holding it open against the wall.

Madeleine tried to push her huge hand off the door. But the woman just laughed raucously and put her foot on Nicole – who was now lying with her head inside the doorway and her feet hanging over the top step. Seconds later a pair of rough hands gripped Nicole by the feet, and, to Madeleine’s horror, she was dragged down the stone steps, by which time Ginette had
already been bound with rope and was being pushed and pulled down the road by two bald, toothless men.

Gasping with terror, Madeleine struggled to get away from the fat woman, who had seized her in a bear hug. Then a hand hit her painfully hard across the mouth. She recoiled, stunned, and two men seized the opportunity to bundle her out of the house and down the steps. She pounded with her fists against the rock-hard chest of one of them, his vile grin revealing his decaying teeth. She screamed, then, and struggled even more desperately, her body debilitated, she fell to the ground. As she was dragged down the street she wondered why this was happening. Surely it was just a nightmare? Or maybe she was delirious … yes, that must be it! She would wake up and find herself back at home with Maman and Papa, any minute now. This comforting thought allowed her to endure the indignity as she was buffeted along different streets, half-carried, half-dragged by the nightmarish crowd.

She was only vaguely aware of Ginette and Nicole in the press of people in front of her. Curses and cheers rose from the crowd. The odours of sweat, cigarettes, alcohol, and fried food rose from the people pushing her. She put her hand to her face; it felt wet and slimy. Someone growled, ‘Dirty whore!’ She heard them clearly, just as another gob of spit landed on her face.

Eventually the crowd came to a standstill and she realized Nicole was next to her. Why was Nicole shaking her? ‘Madeleine! Madeleine! Wake up!’ Her screeching gave Madeleine a headache. She looked
round and everything came into sharp focus. She realized she was in the market square and Ginette was being strapped to a chair while someone stood over her, waving a pair of shears. There were other women she didn’t recognize on other chairs. Why was that?

‘Madeleine! Tell them! For God’s sake, tell them who you are!’ Nicole was yelling.

But all that Madeleine wanted at this moment was for Nicole to be quiet.

Nicole, seeing the hopelessness of trying to get through to Madeleine, now pleaded with her captors, ‘We are not collaborators, and we never fraternized with the Nazis. My mother was beaten because of it. Surely you heard about that! And this is my friend, Madeleine Pelletier. She came to visit us two days ago. She lives in Marck …’

But the group of vigilantes were so full of adrenalin by now that her words meant nothing to them. ‘Shut up, you dirty whore, and watch how your mother’s hair falls to the ground. It’ll be your turn next,’ a foul-smelling woman informed her with glee.

Nicole trembled uncontrollably. She wondered at all these people, just standing here, staring, like those ghouls who’d watched the guillotines at work years before. Disgusted and sickened by their morbid curiosity, she barely noticed the pain of her bruised body and cracked ribs.

‘We are not collaborators,’ she tried again, ‘my mother runs a business!’ She was shouting, but her words seemed to come out in a whisper.

‘Business! Is that what you call it?’ a bent old woman with a mole on her cheek spat at Nicole, while the rest of the crowd cheered and clapped.

Hopelessly, Nicole turned away, only to see the almost unrecognizable figure of her mother, her bruised head bleeding round the few remaining jagged tufts of hair, stumble towards her.

‘Nicole,’ Ginette’s voice trembled.

‘Maman … oh Maman!’ Nicole fell to her knees, and was promptly dragged upright and carried to a vacant chair.

As the chair wobbled precariously on the uneven cobbles, her head fell back and she called out, ‘You have got this wrong. So wrong!’

Madeleine reached out towards her. ‘Don’t hurt her, please don’t hurt her.’

The savage holding Madeleine tightened his grip, and growled, ‘Hurt her? She’s lucky not to be executed.’

Madeleine looked around helplessly, unable to believe her own countrymen could behave with such barbarity.

When the woman with the shears approached Nicole, Madeleine tried to turn her head away, but the man with his arms round her had no intention of allowing her to miss the entertainment. He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her head round to face the front. ‘You watch,’ he grunted.

Madeleine’s knees were giving way as she sobbed, ‘She is innocent, we are all innocent!’ But no one listened. Her knees trembling like jelly, she turned sharply as she felt the pressure of a hand on her
shoulder. She found herself looking into Ginette’s tear-filled eyes. Her expression of anguish and hopelessness told Madeleine there was no reasoning with these people.

As she felt herself being lifted she heard Ginette call out, ‘No! She’s pregnant!’ It was the worst thing she could have said.

‘Pregnant, eh?’ One of the women grinned at her skinny little accomplice, whose shrew-like eyes darted from side to side. She shouted, ‘Do you hear that, everybody? This one is pregnant! A present left by one of the German bastards, no doubt!’

‘The Germans left long ago, how could she be pregnant by one of them, you idiot!’

Ginette was immediately silenced with a forceful slap across the face. ‘Shut your mouth, bitch, or we might just decide to cut your tongue out as well.’

Although Ginette reeled from the slap she did not put her hand to her burning face, but stood straight and lifted her head proudly, refusing to show any weakness.

When Madeleine heard Ginette call out, something within her stirred into action; she knew that, no matter what, she must save her baby. She began to struggle fiercely with her captors, one of whom was pushing her into the chair, while another bound the rope around her. She kicked out hitting the man in front of her in the groin. Momentarily he doubled in pain, but when he straightened up he hit Madeleine so hard across the face that the chair she was bound to toppled over onto its side.

‘Aah, she’s got some grit, this one!’ called the woman holding the shears, waving them in the air. The onlookers cheered and called out excitedly, ‘Cut off her hair! Cut! Cut! Cut!’

Meantime, Tom had the ominous feeling that something bad was about to happen, though he didn’t know what, and was running ahead when he was pulled to a skidding halt by Dominic, who grabbed his sleeve and breathlessly pointed up at a street sign.

Tom read it and said, ‘Rue de la Mer. OK, let’s go!’ He turned abruptly, accidentally knocking a walking stick from the hand of an old man tottering along the footpath. ‘Oh, pardon, monsieur!’ Tom apologized, picking up the stick and handing it to the flustered old man.

‘Young people, always in such a hurry,’ the man complained, accepting his stick gratefully.

Dominic, coming up behind Tom, asked the man, ‘I don’t suppose you know a girl named Nicole, who works in the
boulangerie
down the road? I understand she lives round here with her mother?’

‘Oh yes. I know Nicole, a nice little girl, but I’m not so sure about her mother—’ the old man said.

‘Could you show us where they live?’ Dominic interrupted.

‘It’s the first one in the first block after the rubble. Top floor.’ Too unsteady to turn around, the old man pointed his stick over his shoulder.

‘Thank you,’ they called back, as they ran in that direction.

Arriving at the block of houses, their eyes were drawn straight to the door, which was standing wide open. They glanced at each other without speaking, ran up the porch steps and entered. After taking the inner stairs two at a time they were faced with a shut door. Tom knocked gently, and when there was no answer Dominic thumped with his fist.

‘It isn’t locked,’ said Tom, pressing the handle and finding that it yielded.

Tentatively they walked in. There was no sound, until Dominic suddenly exclaimed, ‘Oh,
mon Dieu
!’

‘What? What is it? asked Tom, startled.

Dominic pointed to a divan. ‘That is Madeleine’s valise, I would recognize it anywhere.’

‘Well, where the hell is she?’ Tom exploded. ‘And why was the front door wide open?’ he demanded, as if Dominic would have the answer.

‘Hello, is anyone there?’

‘Hello!’ someone answered from downstairs.

Tom stayed at the top while Dominic ran downstairs to be greeted at the bottom by a man whose body seemed to fill the open doorway. ‘There will be no business here today,’ he said in a bullying tone Dominic disliked.

‘What do you mean, no business?’

‘The three women have been taken away.’

‘What three women?’ Dominic asked impatiently.

‘The two women who run this place, of course, and another young one I hadn’t seen before.’

Dominic quickly translated this to Tom, before asking where they’d been taken and why.

‘Why?’ the man said. ‘Because they collaborated with the Germans, of course. They’re being punished in the square with others who escaped the first time. About time, too. It’s taken long enough.’

As big as the man was, Dominic grabbed him with both hands and pinned him against the wall. ‘You mean to tell me that people are
still
being publicly shamed? The war finished months ago, for God’s sake!’

‘It’s not my fault that they’ve only just rounded up the last load of whores!’

Tightening his grip, Dominic almost growled, ‘
Where’s the square?
’

‘Just down the road.’ The man pointed a trembling finger.

Dominic loosened his grip and thrust the man to one side. ‘Tom! Hurry!’ he urged.

Madeleine lay on her side, still strapped to the chair, screaming to be set free. She thrashed and flailed from side to side, in a paroxysm of fear. The roar of the crowd seemed to fade as she struggled, and for a single instant she felt strangely at one with the earth. She relaxed, and fell face down, and the smell of the damp dirt wedged between the cobbles reached her nostrils. She inhaled deeply, revelling in its pungency.