Page 106 of The Ringmaster’s Daughter

Within seconds Bertrand was on his feet and had enveloped Michel in an embrace. When they pulled apart, Bertrand wiped at his eyes with a handkerchief. ‘And who is this?’

‘Giordano. My friend.’

Bertrand pumped his hand up and down. ‘Pleased to meet you. Yes, pleased. Madame Odette! Look who it is!’

‘Ah, Michel!’ Madame Odette stopped singing and came to Michel, kissing him on both cheeks, once, twice then three times. ‘Sit. Sit. I will bring you coffee. I have croissants too. Yes?’

She did not wait for their answer and scurried about, now and again looking back at Michel to check that he really was there.

‘She will drive a man crazy,’ Bertrand said and grinned.

‘I have missed her.’

‘No one misses her. She’s annoying.’

‘Michel has told me so much about you,’ Giordano said.

‘He has? All wonderful things, I am sure.’

‘What else could I tell him?’

‘That I made you leave your home?’

‘You didn’t do that. They did.’ Michel looked outside as if a German solider would be standing, staring in at the window. ‘You did what you thought best.’

‘And here you are.’

‘I am only here for a day, at most. I am trying to find some friends.’

‘Friends? And who are they?’

Odette chose that moment to place the coffee and croissants in front of Michel, and it was a few more minutes before he could explain.

‘We will go and see if we can find out anything this evening. There are a few bars, some clubs,’ Michel finished. ‘I think that’s all we can do.’

‘And you want me to help?’

‘Not necessarily, but if you wanted to…’

‘Wanted to? I would be delighted. Anything for a bit of excitement.’

‘So, the Germans taking the city was not excitement enough for you?’

Bertrand sat back in his chair and lit his pipe. After a few deep puffs he got a satisfactory draw. ‘My dear Michel, the Boche are utterly boring. No wonder they visit our cafés and bars so much. Germany, I think, must be a dreary place indeed.’

The trio spent the rest of the day in Bertrand’s apartment. Giordano slept while Michel and Bertrand talked.

‘Did you get my last letter?’

Bertrand stood and looked at his bookshelf before pulling out the Bible. He took out the letters from the middle, their envelopes stained.

‘I thought that if the Boche ever wanted to have a look around here, they wouldn’t bother with the Bible. Their souls already belong to the Devil. I wrote a reply to your last letter – it arrived yesterday. I kept it here as I had nowhere to post it now you’ve left Lucien’s. I cannot believe you are sitting here now!’

‘I cannot believe it myself.’

‘Read it. Not that it is as entertaining as your adventure, but it will stop me from having to tell you everything. I am going out. I will get us some food. Rationing is driving us all crazy, but I have my ways.’

Once Bertrand had left, Michel opened up the new letter.