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

the toilet in the cobbled back yard. ‘Thérèse’s bicycle,’ she said, hauling her daughter-in-law’s bike towards Claire. ‘Mine is here, against the wall. Come, we have little time. We must be back before curfew.’

Ten minutes later they had left Gisoir behind and were cycling along the road to the farm. There was no traffic. Claire was sick with worry about Mitch, but there was nothing she could do to find out why he had been taken to Gestapo headquarters, or how long they intended to keep him, until tomorrow. Her legs were tired and she felt lightheaded with hunger. It had been almost twenty-four hours since she had eaten, but that wasn’t important. It was important to find out if the girl in the well was Frédéric’s fiancée, so she pushed down on the bike's pedals and followed Édith. When the farm came into view, Édith slowed down and, taking her feet off the pedals, coasted until she was able to put them on the ground. Claire pulled on the brakes and stopped beside her. ‘We must hide the bicycles and go the rest of the way on foot,’ Édith whispered. She wheeled her bike down a slope and into a small wood. ‘Here,’ she hissed, beckoning Claire, ‘behind these trees.’ Claire followed and once the bikes were hidden, she and Édith weaved their way through the trees to the farm.

From the edge of the wood the two women waited and watched. It was eerily quiet. Not even a rustle of leaves as the wind blew. The sun, a fading orange ball in a darkening sky, had begun to slip down behind the hills in the west. ‘It will soon be dusk, Édith. We should hurry,’ Claire said.

‘Yes, if we are going to get back before dark we must move.’ Quickly and quietly Édith made her way across the farmyard to the well, looked in, and fell to her knees. ‘Monique,’ she cried, making the sign of the cross. She leaned forward and took the girl’s hand.

‘Édith,’ Claire said softly, ‘we must go if we’re going to get home before curfew.’ Claire put her arm on Édith’s shoulder; the woman was praying. Claire didn’t want to be disrespectful but to be found here by the Germans would mean capture at the very least. And if they suspected that either she or Édith knew the dead girl, they would probably be killed too. ‘Édith?’

‘Yes, I am coming. But first we must take Monique from the well. Frédéric must not find her here. We will lay her by the river. We’ll make it look as if she was taking a short cut to the station and fell from the bridge.’

There was no arguing with her. Édith took one of Monique’s arms and motioned Claire to take the other. As they pulled the girl’s white marbled body from the well there was a sickening crack, as if her body was breaking, and a foul smell. Claire thought she would be sick and held her breath. Monique’s legs came free of the bucket easily and between them Claire and Édith carried her to the river and laid her at the water’s edge.

‘Look.’ Édith pointed to a large round stone under the bridge. ‘Move her so her head is lying on it like a pillow.’

They positioned Monique’s thin body to look as if she had fallen from the narrow bridge. ‘An accident!’ Édith shook her head. ‘A tragic accident! Now you are safe, and you are decent,’ she said, pulling on Monique’s bloodstained skirt. ‘Goodnight, child. Tomorrow Frédéric will find you and bring you home.’

They cycled back in silence. It wasn’t a long journey but Claire felt more tired with every bend in the road. In the small enclosed back yard Claire returned Thérèse’s bicycle to the shed, and after bolting the door to the yard, Édith propped her bicycle against the wall. Claire stood at the side of the kitchen door, waiting for Édith to enter first. As she passed, Édith took Claire’s hand. ‘Thank you, my dear. We will talk later, but for the time being we will say nothing. We must be brave for Frédéric’s sake, yes?’

Claire nodded and gave Édith’s hand a reassuring squeeze. She took a deep breath and heard Édith do the same.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Édith Belland opened the back door and entered the kitchen to two pairs of questioning eyes. Claire followed her in. ‘Mother? We’ve been out of our minds with worry. Where the hell have you been?’ André demanded.

‘Trying to find out why the Gestapo took Alain, where do you think?’

‘And did you find out?’ he asked.

‘No. Claire will go into the town tomorrow and speak to Jacques. He may know something.’ She went to the stove. ‘Being out of your mind with worry didn’t affect your appetite, I see.’ She steadied herself against the range and looked into a large saucepan. ‘I am sorry, son. Thank you for making supper and for leaving some for Claire and me.’ Édith took two dishes from the shelf and spooned a helping of vegetables into each. ‘Frédéric, put a log on the fire in the sitting room. Claire and I will join you when we have eaten.’ When her sons had left the kitchen, Édith put the two dishes of food on the table. Claire heaved as the bitter taste of bile rose from her stomach to her throat. She closed her eyes. To eat after what she had just seen and done wouldn’t be easy, but she felt dizzy from lack of sustenance and her head was pounding with dehydration. Calling on every ounce of willpower she possessed, Claire did what she had been trained to do, put what had happened during the day to the back of her mind and turned to her meal. The two women ate without speaking. When they had finished they joined André and Frédéric in