Free Darkest Longings by Susan Lewis Page A

her head in a way that made
    her sleek black hair bob gently on her shoulders. ‘I really
    don’t have time for walks. However, I’m sure Maman would
    be only too happy to oblige.’
    ‘What?’ Solange cried, turning her head rapidly between
     
    Claudine and Monique. ‘Oblige? Of course, anything, cherie. Absolutely anything.’
    ‘Then that is settled,’ Claudine said, with an impish grin.
    ‘And perhaps,’ she added, avoiding Celine’s eyes, ‘while we
    are walking Solange, you might care to tell me about your
    son Lucien. He’s the only member of your family I haven’t
    yet met.’
    Celine sighed inwardly. Wasn’t that just like Claudine?
    She obviously hadn’t missed the silence that had so far
    surrounded Lucien’s name.
    ‘Ah, Lucien!’ Solange trilled. ‘My boy. My baby. He is
    coming home tomorrow.’
    ‘Maman, he came home yesterday,’ Monique reminded
    her gently.
    ‘And where has he been?’ asked Claudine.
    Monique’s lips puckered with annoyance. ‘He’s been in
    Spain, fighting with the International Brigade. Lucien is a
    born soldier, he has no time for frivolities.’
    That was on odd thing to say, Claudine thought. ‘What
    kind of frivolities do you mean, Monique?’ she asked mildly.
    ‘I mean romance,’ Monique responded, not in the least
    fazed.
    Claudine smiled. ‘Then he is like his brother.’
    ‘Exactly.’
    ‘And does he look like his brother?’
    There was an awkward pause. ‘Lucien,’ Celine answered
    at last, ‘is an exceptionally handsome young man, Claudine.’
    Claudine turned back to Monique, and not even attempting
    to suppress the laughter in her voice, said, ‘A handsome
    young man, and wedded to the army. What a tragedy for
    French womanhood!’
    Again there was a long, uncomfortable silence. It was
    Solange who broke it, announcing suddenly: ‘Hitler’s
     
    Celine’s cup hit her saucer with a clatter, and swallowing
    hard to stop herself from choking, she said, ‘He is?’ Her eyes were dancing. ‘When, cherie?’
    ‘I’m not certain, but I heard Francois telling Louis just
    the other day. I can’t quite decide which room to put him in.’
    ‘Maman,’ Monique said patiently, ‘I don’t think Francois
    meant that he was coming to stay - at least not at Lorvoire.’
    ‘What a relief!’ Solange cried, ‘I find it so difficult to
    refuse anyone hospitality, but I’ve heard such dreadful
    things about the man, haven’t you, Celine? What he did to
    all those poor people in Gibraltar a few weeks ago! It’s
    quite beyond me why the British put up with that, you
    know.’
    ‘You mean Guernica, Maman,’ Monique told her. ‘And
    Guernica is in Spain, it has nothing to do with the British.’
    ‘Oh. Well, the point is, the man is German, which doesn’t
    do much to commend him to anyone, does it?’
    ‘I think Francois is mistaken about him coming here,’
    said Celine. ‘Paris is full of scaremongers, but I’m surprised
    at Francois. He doesn’t normally go in for that sort of
    gossip.’
    ‘Well, all I know is that Francois and his charming friend
    Charles told Louis that Hitler was coming. I know, because
    I was listening outside the door.’
    ‘Solange!’ Celine laughed. ‘You are the only person alive
    who could describe Colonel Charles de Gaulle as charming!
    But I can assure you, cherie, France is perfectly safe now
    that we have the Maginot Line. There can’t be any question
    of Hitler coming.’
    ‘Unless of course Francois has invited him to Lorvoire,’
    Claudine remarked to no one in particular.
    ‘I consider that remark in very poor taste,’ Monique said
    acidly. ‘To suggest that Francois even knows Adolf Hitler-
     
    ‘But Francois knows everyone!’ Solange declared. ‘He
    meets them when he is taking our wine for them to taste.
     
    Why, he’s even met the King of England, that lovely
    Edward.’
    ‘Edward is no longer the King of England, Maman. He
    abdicated at the end of last year.’
    ‘So he did. Tell