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

‘Of course, but you don’t know where the church is and I do.’ At the front door, putting on her coat, Claire turned to Eddie. ‘Add a log to the fires will you, Ed, make sure they don’t go out. I’ll be back before you know it.’

She walked quickly. It wasn’t far to the church, but the sooner she got there the sooner she would see Édith and the sooner they could go home. As she neared the beautiful old building she could see the door leading into the church was ajar. Entering the vestibule, she pushed on the door and stepped into the nave. She saw Édith immediately, kneeling before the altar. Holding onto the end of a pew, Claire bobbed down and made the sign of the cross, as Édith always did, before slipping silently onto the nearest seat.

After some time, when Édith hadn’t moved, Claire stood up and walked down the aisle. Passing under the dome of the crossing she entered the chancel, knelt down beside Édith and took hold of her hand. Édith lifted her head, and though Claire could see relief in her eyes, Édith collapsed and began to sob.

Claire held her friend, rocking her as she would a child until the wrenching sobs that came from somewhere deep inside her subsided. When she had worn herself out Claire said, ‘It is cold for you sitting on the stone floor. Shall we sit in the choir stalls?’

Without argument Édith allowed Claire to help her to her feet and together they slowly walked across the apse to where the choir normally sat. Édith flopped down in the first seat and cried silently.

For Édith to be so heartbroken, so despairing, something terrible must have happened. ‘What is it?’ Claire whispered. ‘Won’t you tell me?’

Édith looked up, her red and swollen eyes looking into Claire’s. ‘My beautiful boy, my courageous Frédéric is dead,’ she wailed. Burying her head in her hands, she began to rock backwards and forwards.

Claire’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Her temples throbbed and her head pounded as if a rod of pain was being driven through her skull. ‘How?’ she whispered. ‘When?’ Claire put her hand on Édith’s arm. ‘Édith, stop! Please,’ she begged, ‘you’ll hurt yourself.

Édith stopped rocking and said again, ‘Frédéric is dead.’

Tears fell from Claire’s eyes. She couldn’t keep her feelings in check any longer. ‘I’m sorry,’ she heard a small voice that sounded similar to her own say. Sorry seemed inadequate, was inadequate. She felt Édith’s arms around her. Now it was Claire’s turn to be comforted.

‘He was a good boy, a clever boy,’ Édith said. ‘He did much for the Resistance. André said he did well while they were away.’ Claire nodded through her tears. Frédéric had done more than well. He had done jobs no one else was capable of doing, or wanted to do. ‘And when they came home they spent time together. As children, young men even, they were never close. But after the sabotage of Flurand station, André showed Frédéric respect and it seemed at last they loved each other as brothers should.’ Édith turned back to the altar. Standing next to it was a statue of the Madonna and Child. She smiled. Then her eyes filled with tears again. ‘Father Albert said he bought flowers for Monique.’ She took a shuddering breath and shook her head, too bereft to speak.

‘Take your time.’ Claire held Édith’s trembling hands in hers.

‘Father Albert told me that he heard the confession of a German soldier earlier and was entering the confessional again to hear someone else’s confession when he saw Frédéric. As soon as he was able, Father Albert went to look for Frédéric. He found him at Monique’s grave. The German soldier was also there, begging for forgiveness. Frédéric pulled the soldier up by his coat collar and pushed him away. He then laid the flowers he had brought for Monique at the head of the grave. The German stumbled back, crushing the flowers. “Get away from her,” Frédéric shouted, but the soldier ignored him.

‘Father Albert heard Frédéric ask the German what the hell he thought he was doing, and the soldier told Frédéric that he had killed the girl in the grave at the Belland Farm, and the priest told him to pray for forgiveness. Staggering about drunk, the soldier put his hands together and fell to his knees, begging Monique to forgive him.

‘“Did you hear me? Frédéric shouted again. Get out of here, or I’ll kill you.” The soldier, suddenly full of bravado, took his gun from its holster and waved it in Frédéric’s face. Frédéric lunged at the soldier and wrestled him to the ground – and the gun went off. The two boys, for that was all they were, stood perfectly still and looked at each other as if they were in shock, Father Albert said. Then Frédéric fell to the ground. The German soldier bellowed, “No! God forgive me.” Then he laid down beside Frédéric, put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.’

Claire sat and stared, seeing nothing, and then said, ‘I saw a bunch of flowers on a pew when I walked down to you. Are they for Frédéric?’ Édith nodded. ‘May I come with you to put them on his grave?’ Édith nodded again.

Together they walked back to the nave and picked up the flowers. ‘They are for Monique too,’ Édith said. ‘They are together now. Together,’ she sighed.

They left for the churchyard by the side door. It was almost dark. ‘Aimée and Thérèse will be home now,’ Édith said. ‘You wait until you see your daughter, Claire. She is so beautiful.’ Édith began to cry softly.

There was no gravestone when Claire last visited Monique’s grave. There was now. Frédéric’s name was above that of his fiancée. Édith took off the old flowers and put on the new. The