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

not conceiving, but she couldn’t know. Édith said it would happen when they least expected it, and that it was just a matter of time. Watching Thérèse with Aimée now, Claire knew she’d make a good mother.

‘As soon as Aimée has been fed and Frédéric is down, we will go to church. Shout up to your brother, André. Tell him if he isn’t downstairs in five minutes, he will be going to church without any breakfast.’ André left the room, muttering under his breath.

Taking Aimée from Thérèse, Claire followed André. ‘I’ll take Aimée up and feed her.’

‘I’ll bring you up a cup of coffee, shall I, Claire?’

‘No, I won’t drink coffee while I’m feeding her.’ Thérèse looked disappointed. ‘But come up and keep me company. Aimée isn’t much of a conversationalist yet.’

When she’d had enough to eat, Aimée fell asleep. Claire laid her on a towel and Thérèse changed her nappy, while Claire dressed in a warm woollen skirt and thick jumper. Sitting at the dressing table mirror, Claire watched how loving and gentle her friend was with Aimée and hoped with all her heart that she would have a child of her own soon. ‘I’m going down. See you two in a minute,’ she said, putting out Aimée’s clothes and leaving Thérèse to dress her.

When Frédéric came down, the Belland family left for church. The two brothers, tall and handsome in their best winter coats and trilby hats, led the way. Thérèse followed, pushing Aimée, who was hidden beneath warm blankets, in the pram she had bought in preparation for when she had her own child. Claire and Édith, arm in arm, trailed behind.

Walking to church after a recent snowfall reminded Claire of Foxden. She breathed the cold winter air. ‘The last Christmas I was home it was just like this,’ she said to Édith. ‘Snow for as far as you could see.’

‘Have you written to your family lately?’

‘Yes, I wrote to my oldest sister. I also wrote to my friend in the WAAF. I enclosed a letter for my parents and asked her to post it on to them, so it would have an English postmark. My parents can’t know I’m here, but if I didn’t get in touch at this time of year they would worry.’

‘Did you tell your sister about Aimée?’

‘No. Do you think I should have?’

‘No. I just wondered.’

The two women walked the rest of the way to the church in silence. The sound of the organ playing a slow and rather sad tune, and the scents of musky spice and vanilla, met them as they entered. The church was full except for the pew at the front, where the Belland family sat. Édith stopped to speak to one of her neighbours and ended up sitting nearest the aisle and the pram. Claire was next to her and Thérèse sat between her husband and her brother-in-law.

The priest walked down the aisle swinging the incense bowl, and when he’d lit the altar candles the service began. Kneeling in a Catholic church with her French family, Claire prayed for their safety and for the safety of her brave comrades of the Resistance. She prayed too for her parents, her friend Eddie in the WAAF, her brother Tom in the Army, and her sisters Bess, Margaret and Ena. And she prayed for Mitch. She prayed that he would come home to her and his daughter. She looked along the pew. Édith was rocking the pram gently.

When the service ended, Claire took the pram and joined the worshippers standing in line to thank the priest. When it came to her turn, she put out her hand to shake his, and he said, ‘When will you be having your child christened?’

Shocked, Claire replied, ‘When my husband comes home.’

‘I look forward to that day, Madame,’ he said, shaking Claire’s hand. Bending over and smiling at Aimée, he said, ‘God bless you my child.’

‘That was nice of Father Albert to offer to christen Aimée,’ Thérèse said, ‘especially as he doesn’t really know you.’

‘I’ve been to a few services where he has officiated,’ Claire said.

‘Of course.’ Thérèse rested her hand on the handle of the pram and walked at Claire’s side. ‘And you met him at mother-in-law’s house when he came to tell us that poor Monique was dead.’ Claire looked at Édith. She hadn’t told André and Thérèse how Monique had died, or that it was Claire and Alain who had found her. That was a secret shared only by Édith, Father Albert and herself.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Claire unpacked the shopping and put it in the larder. Leaving a tin of baby milk and a small bottle with a rubber teat on the table, she made coffee. Pleased that she had found the baby formula she sat down, sipped her coffee, and read the back of the tin. Baby’s first formula, six to twelve months, and instructions on how to make it. She took the teat from the bottle and rinsed it under the tap. Then she filled the kettle, put it on the cooker and lit the gas. As soon as it boiled, Claire poured the water into Édith’s white jug and while it cooled she went into the yard to get the washing in.

The garments that were dry she folded and took into the laundry room. She checked the water again. It was cooler, so she spooned two teaspoons of the formula into the bottle, added the water, and after shaking the bottle, tested it on her wrist. It felt like the correct temperature.

‘Hey… Baby,’ she said to Aimée, who had woken and was kicking her legs contentedly. She lifted Aimée out of the pram and, sitting on the wooden bench by the back door, teased her with the warm teat on the bottle. Aimée’s mouth opened, but before Claire had time to place the