Chateau Despair

by Red Rose Publishig

“He went off in a mood. I’m damned if I know what’s got into him.” He shot an accusing look at Helene, who left them and walked over to join Jack by the bar.

  “I wanted to ask him about that friend of his – Captain Saunders. I think he must be drunk. I heard him saying terrible things to Helene in the garden earlier.”

  “He didn’t upset you, did he? What did he say to her?”

  “Something about knowing the truth. It didn’t make sense. Helene thought he was drunk. I was going to ask Simon what he knew about him.”

  “I didn’t think he was drunk when I spoke to him. You don’t happen to know where Captain Saunders is, do you? I think I’ll have a word with him if I can find him.”

  “Don’t go making more trouble,” Christine begged. “This is supposed to be my dance, remember.”

  “Sorry. I’ll probably catch him in the morning before he leaves and see what he has to say then.”

  “Yes, all right…” Christine broke off as Freddie came up to them.

  “Would you like to dance?”

  “Yes, thank you,” she said, accepting his hand gladly.

  “Are you enjoying your evening, Christine?” Freddie asked.

  “Yes, of course. Mummy went to so much trouble over it for me. I really didn’t expect anything special this year.”

  “You deserve it, my dear. In fact I think you deserve a great deal more. A girl like you was meant for spoiling by people who care for her- as I am sure your husband will when you marry.”

  The look that accompanied his words made Christine’s heart thump. She was certain that he was hinting that he might ask her to marry him one day, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  However, he said nothing more on the subject, merely returning her to her mother’s side when their dance was over. For the rest of the evening, Christine continued to dance with everyone who asked her – and that included Paul Crane.

  “I’m glad you came, Paul,” she said when he told her he was about to leave just before midnight. “I wasn’t sure you would, after our quarrel.”

  “I shouldn’t have said what I did; it wasn’t fair, and I believe I was wrong about your family anyway.”

  “So you’ve forgiven me then?”

  “Yes, of course.” He smiled down at her. “You’ll come to see the cottage next week. I’ve asked your mother and she has agreed to come with us.”

  “I'd love to,” she said and on impulse reached up to kiss him on the cheek. “Goodnight, Paul.”

  She watched as he walked from the marquee, then joined her mother as most of the other guests began to leave.

  “I hope you enjoyed it all, darling?” Beth said. “In spite of everything?”

  “Yes.” Christine gave her a quick hug. “I was determined not to let Simon spoil things – and it was just a storm in a teacup after all.”

  “You’re being very sensible about it. I think you have grown up, Christine – and I’m proud of you.”

  “I’ve been thinking about what I want to do…” Christine said. “Henry asked me what I planned to do with my life, and I thought I might get married – well, I might one day, but…” She paused and looked at her mother uncertainly. “What would you think if I said I would like to train as a nurse – and perhaps specialise in children’s nursing?”

  “I should say that I am very surprised. I had no idea that you were interested in anything like that.”

  “Nor had I until we visited that hospital you are supporting by fund raising,” Christine admitted. “But I’ve given it a lot of thought since then and I believe it’s what I want to do.”

  “It would need a lot of thinking about, but if when you’ve been into it a little more you still want to do it, then I would give you my blessing.”

  “Thank you. Do you think Henry will approve?”

  “I think he will have some reservations, but I’m sure you can talk him round. He usually tries to please you if he can – but it shouldn’t be a hasty thing, darling. I want you to find out as much as you can just to be sure.”

  “I’ve made some preliminary inquiries, but I wanted to talk to you and Henry before I went any further.”

  “Then we’ll talk about it again when everyone has gone and things have calmed down.”

  Christine had breakfast in bed the next morning at her mother’s insistence, so it was late when she finally went downstairs. There was no one about so she tried the study. No one was there so she picked up a design her mother had been working on earlier. She turned as her mother came into the room, sensing at once that something was wrong.

  “Has something happened – it’s not Henry, is it?”

  “No. I went into see him earlier and he’s fine – a bit tired, but nothing to worry about. This concerns Simon…”

  “Simon? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m so sorry, darling. There’s no way I can make this easier for you.”

  “Something has happened to Simon? Please tell me.”

  “He took his car out early this morning and had a terrible crash. Apparently his car left the road and crashed into a tree. He was rushed to hospital by ambulance immediately but…” Christine clutched at the back of a chair for support as her mother paused. “I’m afraid he died before they could operate…”

  “Simon is dead?” The room was whirling around her and she couldn’t seem to focus. “No, that can’t be true…it can’t…”

  “I am very sorry, darling. Caro and Rupert went to the hospital as soon as we heard the news of course. Caro telephoned to tell me he had died a few moments ago. We had hoped that they might be able to save him but…”

  “That’s terrible,” Christine sat down heavily before her legs gave way. “I – I don’t know what to say. It’s hard to believe. Yesterday he was…” She choked on a sob. “Oh, Mummy, poor Caro – and Helene. She will blame herself, I know she will.”

  “No! Of course it isn’t her fault. It isn’t anyone’s fault. They aren’t sure how it happened yet, of course, but the police seem to think it may have been a failure of the brakes or something. It was an accident, and Simon was drinking quite heavily last night. I wouldn’t have said he was drunk, but he may have been tired.”

  “It could have been the brakes. He said his car was an old wreck but he couldn’t afford a new one.” The tears were starting to trickle down her cheeks. “He only drove down with me, because he said the car might be useful…”

  “Well, I’m glad it didn’t happen then. It might have been both of you.”

  “Oh, Mummy, don’t. I feel so awful. Poor Simon. It’s terrible – such a tragedy.”

  “I’m very upset at what has happened. But this has nothing to do with you – or Helene, come to that. It was simply an accident, nothing more. I won’t have you blaming yourself, Christine. Simon should have had the brakes looked at if they were faulty.”

  “Yes, I know…”

  Christine’s face was pale, but the tears had ceased. “I think I should like to be alone for a little while – if you don’t mind?”

  “Don’t cry in your room, Christine. It won’t bring him back.”

  “No. I think I’ll take the dogs for a walk. Crying isn’t going to help…”

  But she was crying when Paul saw her outside in the rose gardens.

  He hesitated for a few minutes, then walked up to her, sitting on the wooden bench beside her in silence until she turned her head to look at him.

  “I heard the news in the village. I’m terribly sorry, Christine. I know you were in love with him. I just wanted to say…if there’s anything I can do?”

  “No…” she shook her head, unable to face him. “There’s nothing anyone can do now.”

  “No, of course not.” She felt the touch of his hand on her shoulder. “I dare say you are wishing me to hell. I’ll understand if you don’t want to come to the cottage next week, Christine. Any time will do. And if I can help you only have to ask.”

  Christine couldn’t answer him. She wanted
to call him back as he walked away. His sitting beside her had comforted her, but she hadn’t been able to stop crying and tell him so.

  It was just such a terrible shame that Simon should be killed in a silly road crash. It was all so unnecessary. To die like that after all he’d been through…

  Chapter Sixteen

  Clothilde 1940 – 1941

  What they had feared most had become inevitable. Despite a plea from the British not to surrender, the French had been forced to sign the armistice in the coach at Compiegne, where the German surrender had taken place in 1918. The Germans were marching into Paris, their troops parading along the Champs Elysees. The French government had left for Bordeaux some days earlier, and thousands upon thousands of people had fled the city: women, children and old men, a prey to the dive-bombers who raked the column with gunfire.

  “What will you do now, madame?” Clothilde asked as they sat drinking coffee together in Madame Robards’ little back parlour. She had sent the girls home and closed early as the first rumours began to reach them. Signs were going up everywhere, reserving cinemas, restaurants, and certain shops for the exclusive use of German soldiers. “Shall you try to carry on?”

  “If I stay open it will mean serving the Germans. No one else will come here. The German officers will bring their girls here – how will you feel about showing them the collection?”

  Clothilde shrugged. “At least they may buy something. Business has been slow of late. If you are prepared to accept their money, I shall serve them.”

  “Then we’ll try. It is difficult to know what will happen…” She stopped speaking as they heard loud knocking at the rear of the shop and looked at each other in alarm. “Who can that be? Not a customer at this hour surely…”

  “And not Germans either. They would come to the front door or simply barge their way in. I’ll go and see…”

  “Be careful…”

  Clothilde nodded. She was aware that her employer was frightened by the invasion, even though she was trying to appear calm. Clothilde was more fatalistic. Since the Germans were here there was no avoiding contact with them, and to show fear would only make them suspicious.

  She opened the door, staring first in disbelief and then with growing pleasure at the man who stood there. “Leon! This is a wonderful surprise. Madame will be so pleased.”

  “Clothilde…” He came in warily and she saw the signs of strain and fatigue in his face; he looked as if he had not slept in days, his clothes filthy and stained with both blood and mud. “Is it safe – there are no Germans here?”

  “No. They will be too busy to bother with us yet. But I thought a settlement had been negotiated?”

  “I didn’t wait around to be made a prisoner or shipped off to a labour camp. I deserted before the surrender. I’m going to join the Resistance.”

  “Oh, Leon!” Madame Robards had come into the little back hall in time to hear her son's declaration. “If the Germans find you they will shoot you. They say they have been making terrible threats against those who do not accept the surrender.”

  “What do you imagine they would do to me if I had surrendered, Maman? You know what Germans do with Jews…”

  “But you’re not…”

  “My father was one quarter Jew,” Leon said. “That would be enough to get me shipped off to a camp. I would rather take my chances with the Resistance. Better to die fighting for France than be treated like an animal by the Boche.”

  “Leon…” Madame Robards had tears running down her cheeks as she looked helplessly at her son.

  “Are you hungry?” Clothilde asked. “What about money – and a change of clothes?”

  “Thank you.” He smiled at her. “That’s why I came. I shan’t stay long. With luck no one will have seen me, but if the Germans come looking you must disown me, Maman. You haven’t heard from me in ages and you don’t want to…”

  “I have money in the safe,” she said. “Clothilde – you will find him something to eat?”

  “Certainly. Why don’t you go up and wash and change, Leon? Food will be waiting when you come down.”

  “It is good to see you, Clothilde. I have missed you.”

  “We have missed you. You must stay in touch, Leon. If we can help you or the Resistance, you have only to send word.”

  “We shall need as much help as we can get, but Maman is right. It will be dangerous. You should not risk yourselves.”

  Clothilde made no comment as he went up the stairs. If Madame Robards were allowed to stay open, it would mean that German officers would visit with their girlfriends. Sometimes men spoke carelessly at such times, and even the smallest piece of information could prove of use to the Resistance.

  She was smiling as she took food from the pantry. It would be much the same as when she had spied on Blanche and Betrand to discover their secrets – and a small resistance of her own to extract revenge for the death of Auguste Picard.

  Leon kissed her goodbye. Clothilde knew that he wanted more from her; she had felt him tremble as he held her for a moment, and she would have given him whatever he wanted gladly if there had been time. But Leon had an appointment to keep: an appointment that might make the difference between a successful escape from the city and arrest.

  “I shall see you again one day,” he promised her. “When this is all over I shall ask you to marry me, Clothilde.”

  “Perhaps I shall say yes.” She touched his cheek. “Take care of yourself. I cannot marry a dead hero.”

  He had gone with a smile on his lips, but Clothilde felt the ice trickle down her spine. Would they ever see him again?

  Madame Robards was sniffing into her handkerchief as Clothilde cleared the remains of the meal and tidied the kitchen. She burned the clothes Leon had been wearing in the stove, wanting to leave no evidence that he had ever been there.

  “You did not know Leon’s father had Jewish blood?”

  “No, madame. It makes no difference to me. Leon is my friend.”

  “I have none, myself. They may leave us in peace – but I fear they may come looking for Leon one day. Someone will make mischief out of jealousy or spite.”

  “We have not seen him. I believe you quarrelled with him when he joined the army – is that not so, madame?”

  “I suppose we must say that,” she agreed and sighed. “I am glad you were here, Clothilde. I should probably have wept all over him and done nothing to help. You are so practical.”

  “Not always. But it was the best thing for Leon, madame. He would rather die fighting for the Resistance than...”

  “Yes, I know. You will keep his secret?”

  “Of course. I shall never betray you or him.”

  “Thank you. After this is all over, I shall give you a share of the business, Clothilde. I have come to rely on you; I couldn’t manage without you.”

  “Let us see what happens, madame. We must hope that we are allowed to continue…”

  Clothilde felt a flutter of apprehension as she hesitated outside the showroom door. Three weeks had passed since Leon made his brief visit, weeks in which Paris had seen the grip of the invader tighten, but nothing much happen as far as the showrooms were concerned.

  The business remained open, although only three customers had ventured out to collect their orders, most having fled Paris long before. Everyone had been holding their breath as the new masters settled in, and the Vichy government seemed to be merely a satellite of their German overlords.

  Clothilde had heard whispered comments from those girls who still worked in the sewing room. Several had left after the invasion, but there were enough to continue making the planned autumn collection.

  “I was approached by a young soldier who has a motorbike,” Juliette told Clothilde one morning. “He asked me to go out for a meal with him, but I ran away. My father would take his belt to me if I said yes. He would rather I was dead.”

  “Plenty of others will accept,” Annette said. “What do you think, Clothilde?”
>
  “It depends on whether or not you like the man who asks you. If that special something is there…” She shrugged expressively.

  It was too dangerous to speak freely these days. Already there were reports of men being dragged out of houses and bars and being sent to forced labour camps – and of what happened to those who tried to resist. Life was precarious in Paris at the moment.

  It was for this reason that Clothilde had paused to compose herself. In the showroom Major Von Sturmbakker was waiting to be shown the new autumn collection. He had not brought a girl with him, but had told Madame Robards that he wished to purchase a gift for his fiancée.

  Taking a deep breath, Clothilde walked into the showroom. She was wearing a stunning blue evening gown that clung lovingly to her slender figure and was the most expensive of their new collection. The bodice had a deep V at the back and was intricately beaded; it had been made up in blue but a white version was even now being finished in the sewing room.

  “Charming,” Siegfried Von Sturmbakker murmured. “Yes, I will certainly take the gown – but I think in the white if that is possible?”

  “Yes, of course,” Madame Robards fluttered nervously. “We can have it ready within days.”

  He nodded, a thin smile on his lips. “Perhaps your lovely assistant will show me more?”

  “Certainly, Major. Was it particularly evening gowns? Or did you wish to see something else?”

  “Why not show me the whole collection?” He flicked an imaginary piece of fluff from the sleeve of his immaculate uniform. “I have nothing more important for this afternoon. Unless you are too busy?”

  His eyes were a clear azure blue, his short straight hair silvery blond. Clothilde repressed a shiver as his penetrating gaze fastened on her.

  “We should be delighted to show you the collection, Major,” Madame Robards waved Clothilde away, giving her a warning look that spoke volumes.

  There was something about the major that set shivers running down Clothilde’s spine. She sent one of the other girls to show another evening dress, but when Marie came back she looked frightened.