China Blue (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 3) by Madalyn Morgan (top 100 novels of all time TXT) 📕

‘I know.’ Claire turned back to the girl. ‘She looks like marble. And her head… Do you think she’s the girl the German soldier was talking about?’

Mitch nodded. ‘Looks as if one of them broke the poor kid’s neck.’

‘What? We need to report it to the authorities.’

‘We don’t. We’re fighting a war. We need to walk away and forget what we’ve seen.’

‘How can we? Killing that girl wasn’t war. It was murder.’

‘We don’t know that. It could have been an accident. She might have been running in the dark, slipped and fell.’

‘But you said--’

‘Whatever happened to her, we can’t report it. We’ll be putting ourselves, the Belland family, the Resistance group and everyone who has ever helped us in danger. No, Claire, we walk away. We’ll tell Édith when we find her. She’ll know what to do.’

‘If we find her.’

‘We will find her. But until then, we forget what we’ve seen.’ Mitch put his hand under Claire’s chin and lifted her face to his. ‘Do you understand?’

‘I understand.’ After using the toilet Claire went back to the well. She took the hair slide from the wall and put it in her coat pocket. Then she closed her eyes and said a prayer.

It only took her a few seconds to walk to the back of the house. She heard the splash and tumble of the river falling like a waterfall over the rocks beneath the bridge as soon as she turned the corner. Running to the river’s edge, she fell to her knees, plunged her hands into the water and rubbed them vigorously. Then she cupped a handful and splashed it on her face. She gasped. It was so cold it took her breath away. It was May, almost summer, but the water coming from the hills was icy. She braced herself and washed as much of her body as she was able, without undressing.

‘Are you ready, China?’ Mitch shouted.

‘Yes, I’m coming.’ Mitch acknowledged her reply with a wave and walked on. Taking a small towel from her case, Claire began to dry herself. She lifted her arms. Her skin was white and mottled from the cold, like the girl in the well. She shook her head in an attempt to shake away the image of the dead girl, and returned the towel to her case. It was wet, but there was nothing she could do about it. She rolled it up and placed it as far away from her second set of clothes as she could. It would eventually make them damp. She looked up at the sky, at the dark and gloomy clouds; she would probably be as wet as the towel before she arrived in Gisoir. She quickly closed the case and got to her feet. Running along the lane, she caught up with Mitch. ‘From now on, I don’t think you should call me China,’ she said.

‘Désolé, mademoiselle,’ he said, with a twinkle in his eye. ‘Are you all right?’

Claire sighed. ‘As I’ll ever be.’ She was used to being called mademoiselle. She liked it, especially when Mitch said it. She liked her code name too, China Blue. When she told Mitch someone had said her eyes were the colour of Wedgwood, he’d said, “Yeah? Who’s Wedgwood?” Being a Canadian, she wasn’t surprised that Mitch didn’t know Wedgwood was the name of a maker of fine china, but she was disappointed that he hadn’t noticed her blue eyes. Everybody did, even Colonel Smith. She sighed.

‘Come on, dreamer, we need to get going,’ he said, taking her case and walking away.

‘Yes. Sorry.’ Claire fell into step at his side. ‘Give me something to carry.’

‘Take your shopping basket. I’ll give you your suitcase when we get to Gisoir, in case we get split up.’

Claire shuddered at the thought and put the notion out of her mind. She had been trained to compartmentalise things. Though a compartment where she could put the girl in the well, she was yet to find out. With Mitch carrying her case, Claire was able to walk faster. ‘From now on, we should only speak French. You must only call me Claire, and I shall only call you Alain. Are you listening, Alain?’

‘What?’

‘French! We should--’

‘OK, China,’ Mitch winked.

‘I’m serious, Alain. I am your cousin,’ Claire said, in French.

‘What? My kissing cousin?’

‘Hey!’ She clipped him across the shoulder. ‘Less of the sauce.’

Side by side they walked along, chatting in French. The heavy drizzle turned into rain – and with the rain came a feeling of uncertainty. On the outskirts of Gisoir, they stopped to discuss what they were going to do once they were in the town.

‘You pick up some food from the market while I deliver the wireless crystals to Jacques. I’ll ask him about the fire at the farm and where the Belland family are living.’

‘Will you tell him about the girl?’

‘No. I shall only mention the fire – say we were passing and noticed it. He’s bound to know something. If he doesn’t I’ll ask around.’

‘Is that wise? You never know who you’re talking to these days.’ She stopped speaking and checked herself. Alain was not a novice; he would be discreet. ‘Right! Where shall we meet?’

‘I’ll see you in Café La Ronde at twelve. Don’t worry if I’m a bit late. If I get an address for Édith, and it’s near, I might call on her.’ Alain looked at his wristwatch. ‘It’s almost eleven. That gives you enough time to buy food, doesn’t it?’

‘Yes, plenty.’ Claire shivered. She pulled her coat around her and buttoned it up to the neck. ‘I’ve got coins for the market, but only enough tokens for a loaf and some cheese.’

‘Keep an eye on the road,’