The Eden Inheritance (34 page)

For a long while he sat staring down into the valley. Then a movement on the drive to the château caught his eye. A figure on a bicycle – Paul Curtis returning from wherever he had been. A rush of anger made the brightness of the afternoon turn black before his eyes. The bastard! He'd like to throtde him with his bare hands. Curtis disappeared and still Charles sat, unwilling to go back, wanting to be alone a little longer before he had to resume the faÁade that was his armour.

He was still there when he saw a figure he recognised as Christian emerge, walking down the drive. Another wave of resentment overcame him. Christian too was deceiving him and their father. Everywhere he looked, it seemed, those familiar to him were displaying a secret side to their natures.

Christian was walking purposefully – nothing so strange in that, Christian never ambled when he took a walk, always striding out energetically. But with his heightened sense of persecution Charles found himself watching his brother's progress with suspicion. Where was he going? Charles shaded his eyes against the sun, watching. For a few minutes Christian disappeared out of sight beneath a knoll in the rising ground and when he reappeared he was almost at the lane that bounded the edge of the parkland. There he stopped, crouching down beside the low stone wall. Charles strained his eyes. What the hell was he doing? Tying a shoelace, perhaps? But no, he appeared to be doing something to the wall itself.

After a moment he straightened up and continued down the lane, and though he still walked fast it seemed to Charles that there was a subtle difference in his demeanour. He puzzled over it and when his brother was out of sight, walking in the direction of the village, he got up from his seat on the fallen tree and made his way diagonally down the grassy slope towards the spot where he had seen Christian fiddling with the wall.

A slight sheen of perspiration had begun to bead Charles'forehead. He took out a handkerchief to mop his face and found his hand was trembling slightly, though for the life of him he could not understand the reason. Some sixth sense was stirring like a jagged nerve deep within him.

At first sight there was nothing remarkable about the wall, no obvious reason for Christian's interest in it. Looking around to make certain there was no one about, Charles crouched down to examine it. The stones were old, creeper and tiny weeds grew between them. But one, Charles noticed, looked slightly different The plants had been disturbed, dry crumbling plaster was exposed. He ran his fingers around it and with a jolt of excitement found that it was loose.

Crouching lower he eased it out. There in the hollow was a small packet. A postbox! Charles thought The fools were using this place, right on the edge of the grounds, to pass messages! He unwrapped the package, his fingers clumsy with eagerness.

‘The note was not even coded. Perhaps whoever it was meant for was not clever enough to decipher codes.

‘Warn the pianist only transmit in emergency. Detector vans active.'

Well, at least they had the wit to be cautious. Perhaps it would curtail their activities if they knew that the Germans were on to them. Carefully he replaced the note and pushed the stone back into place. This time he'd leave it so that it would be found by whoever it was intended for. He did not want Christian to know he had discovered his secret. But Charles' mind was made up. He would keep an eye on the letterbox. That way he would stay ahead in the game.

Kathryn heard Paul come upstairs and hurried along the corridor to his room.

‘Paul – thank goodness you're back! I was so worried about you! Von Rheinhardt has been here and …'

‘I know,' he said. ‘Christian told me. Everything is under control, don't worry.'

‘Don't worry! It's easy to say that! I was frantic!'

He held out his hand to her.

‘Come here.'

She hung back, looking over her shoulder nervously though she knew Charles had gone out.

‘What's the matter?' he asked. ‘ You've been avoiding me'

‘Charles knows,' she said softly, urgently. ‘He couldn't have been as fast asleep as I thought he was when I came to your room.He has already tried to get you thrown out of the château. I was afraid if I did anything else to upset him he would try again and succeed.'

Paul snorted; his opinion of Charles was very low.

‘Don't worry about that. To be honest I think I should leave anyway. There are far too many of us under one roof here.'

‘Oh Paul, no! Please don't go …'

‘I want to talk to you, Kathryn. But first do as I say and come here. It's been far too long since I kissed you.'

She glanced over her shoulder again, then her longing for him overcame her fear. She pushed the door closed behind her and went to him. He held her, pressing her to him, running his hands lightly over her back and legs as if rediscovering every line. She buried her face in his shoulder, then turned her head so that her lips tasted his throat. They kissed, deeply, urgently, but the tension was still tingling in her, marring the sweetness of the moment

‘Kathryn, listen.' He held her away slightly so that he could look at her. ‘ I'm expecting a Lysander very soon with an arms drop.I could arrange for it to take you, Guy and Celestine out. Don't. answer too quickly. I know you said before you wouldn't go, but I really think you should consider it, for Guy's sake, if nothing else. And it would ensure Celestine's safety too – no struggling down a difficult escape route. But she'd need you, Kathryn, pregnant in a strange country.'

She hesitated.

‘You don't think the Boche would turn on the rest of the family if we suddenly disappeared?'

‘I don't know. They'd have to pretend you'd gone to stay with relatives or something. I've already discussed it with Christian and he agrees with me. Guy must be your first priority now – and Celestine's baby. If the others care anything for either of you they'll understand that.'

‘Yes, I think Guillaume and Louise would. I'm not so sure about Charles, but …' She broke off, unable to bring herself to say what was in her heart – that she no longer cared what Charles thought, though she did still care what happened to him. For a few moments she was silent, deep in thought, then she nodded. ‘All right.'

He looked at her, startled. He had expected her to argue again. She laughed shortly.

‘Don't look like that. I thought you wanted me to go back to England.'

‘And I thought you would almost certainly refuse to go. What brought about this change of heart?'

She shrugged. ‘Oh, I don't know – I've had time to think about it, I suppose.' It was not the whole truth but there were some things she was not yet ready to share with anyone – even Paul. ‘ Suppose someone should hear the plane?' she went on swiftly. ‘Mightn't they be suspicious?'

‘That's a chance we have to take.'

‘Supposing they connect it with you?'

‘As I've already said, I think it's time for Paul Curtis to make his exit. You taking Guy away will give me the perfect excuse. I'll hardly be needed any longer as his tutor if he's not here, and I'm sure Guillaume can convince the authorities, if needs be, that he thought I was genuine.'

‘Do you know yet when it will be?'

‘Not precisely, but it will be soon. Warn Celestine and have a bag packed and ready. I'll give you as much notice as I can but it may be only a few hours.'

‘I understand.'

‘I love you,' he said ‘When this is all over we'll be together, I promise.'

‘Oh I do hope so!' she whispered. ‘I love you too, Paul.'

She was beginning to ache now with need of him but she knew that for the moment it could not be. Their time would come, if the gods were on their side. He held her for a few moments longer, gently massaging the knots of tension in the slope of her shoulders, kissed her again, and put her away gently but firmly.

‘Be brave.'

Tears ached in her throat.

‘I'll try. But I don't feel very brave.'

‘You will be,' he said, ‘I know it. You are a very special woman, Kathryn. I never expected to feel this way about anyone, ever again. But there it is – I do.'

‘And I never knew it was possibleto feel this way at all.'

‘There you are then. Anything else is a bonus.'

‘I suppose so. What a time to find out though!'

‘That is often when it happens – when we are afraid there might be no second chances.'

‘Oh Paul …'

‘Go on now,' he said gently. ‘Go and talk to Celestine.'

She went. Alone, he thought: Thank God for that! At least when I know she is safe I'll be able to get on with the job in hand.

But the relief did nothing to ease the ache in his heart that came from knowing that within a few days she would be gone.

Kathryn found Celestine in the walled garden, sitting on the old stone seat and staring into space. Kathryn sat down beside her.

‘I think I've found a way to get you and your baby out of reach of the Nazis. I'm going to take you to England.'

Celestine's eyes widened, huge dark-blue orbs in her sallow face.

‘England? But how? They'd never let us go.'

‘Look, you have to keep this completely to yourself, not mention it to Maman or Papa or anyone. There's an English plane coming to drop supplies for the Resistance. We are going to take Guy and fly out on it.'

‘Oh!' Celestine was silent for a moment, digesting the information, but instead of bombarding Kathryn with the questions she had expected, she only smiled slyly. ‘ It's Paul's doing, I suppose.'

It was Kathryn's turn to be surprised.

‘How do you know about Paul?' she asked sharply.

‘Christian told me. He's an agent, isn't he?'

‘Yes, be is. But Christian shouldn't have said anything.'

‘It's all right.' Gelestine laughed a little nervously. ‘You can trust me. I hate the Boche too, remember.'

‘I know you do, but all the same …' Kathryn checked herself. No point agonising over it now; there were too many important plans to be made. ‘You do want to go?'

‘Of course I do! Oh Kathryn, you've no idea what a relief it would be to know I didn't have to worry any more about them finding out my baby is half Jewish! Just to think he can be born in a free country … you can't imagine what that will mean to me.'

Kathryn hesitated. It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she knew exactly what Celestine meant; that she felt exactly the same way. For Kathryn was beginning to be fairly certain that she, too, was pregnant.

It had been a long while before she had recognised the signs. At first she had put the constant nausea that was troubling her down to the fact that she was so worried, though she now wondered how she could have beem so naive, considering she had felt exactly the same when she had been pregnant with Guy. Never one to be bothered with counting days she had not noticed either that her period had not come, until one day she woke up and thought in a rather puzzled way: When did I last have the curse? She began calculating, trying to tie it in with some event or other, only to realise that it must be almost two months ago. She had panicked then, examining her body for telltale signs, and when she found that her breasts had begun to change, the nipples harder and darker, the breasts themselves fuller and more tender, she knew in a minute without any doubt what she had failed to suspect for so long.

She had stood staring at herself in the mirror, too stunned for the moment to think straight. When she had been pregnant with Guy it had been the fulfilment of a dream and she had been filled with joy. Now she felt only apprehension. This was no world into which to bring a new baby, this cauldron of suspicion and fear. And worse, she was not even sure who had fathered the tiny new life beginning within her. She would like to think, of course, that it was Paul. If it was, she would have something of his to carry into the years ahead, whatever might happen. But she could not be certain that the baby was Paul's. Too vividly she remembered the occasion when Charles had forced himself on her. Charles had given her Guy within the first year of their marriage. Was it not quite likely that he might also be the father of the baby she was now carrying?

Uncertainty and doubts plagued her and she had kept her own counsel about her condition. Would she have told anyone had she been sure who was the father? she wondered. Certainly she would have longed to share the news with Paul if she could have been certain the baby was his, but didn't he have enough to worry about without that added complication? Arid to tell him now, with her hovering doubts, would mean admitting that single disgusting episode with Charles. As for telling Charles himself, she shrank from it. She felt too angry with him, too full of cold dislike, to want to share anything with him, much less this.

She wouldn't be able to keep it to herself much longer, of course. Soon it would be obvious for all to see. She wallowed in indecision, wondering how to deal with the situation.

And then like the answer to a prayer Paul had offered her the flight out of France and Kathryn had known what she must do. Being away from Savigny would give her a breathing space. In addition, her baby, whoever had fathered him, would be-born in freedom. England might still be at war, but the dangers were clean-cut ones, not an ideal world but far preferable to the privations and insidious perils of occupied France. Besides, Kathryn thought with wry realism, if she remained here she might not even live to give birth to her child. She was, after all, involved with the Resistance. If that fact was discovered her chances would be slim indeed.

She said none of this, however, to Celestine.

‘Get a few things together,' she told the girl. ‘Not too much, we'll have to travel light.'

‘I left most of my things in Paris anyway.' Celestine sounded almost light-hearted. The only thing that is important to me is what I'm carrying right here.' She patted her stomach with fondness and pride and Kathryn felt a moment's envy for the simplicity of her priorities.