Free Voices in the Dark by Catherine Banner

we are going to do. I’m worried, North, and I don’t mind telling you so.’
    ‘Maybe it will all turn out all right,’ I said, but I did not sound convinced.
    ‘Anselm?’ said Jasmine. ‘What will turn out all right?’
    ‘Nothing,’ I said.
    That was too much for Jasmine. She stamped her feet and pulled the box of books off the counter. ‘Why doesn’t anyone tell me anything?’ she demanded, fighting Leo’s attempts to restrain her. ‘And why haven’t we gone to the gardens to dance like everyone else? It’s not fair!’
    ‘You’ll have to go tonight, North,’ said Mr Pascal, shoving the newspaper into his pocket.
    ‘Why?’ said Leo.
    ‘The twenty-ninth of July,’ said Mr Pascal. ‘The king’s speech. You’d be a fool to miss it at a time like this.’
    With that he left. ‘Shh, shh,’ Leo told Jasmine, taking hold of her arms. ‘If you want to go to the gardens, we’ll go, all right?’
    All that day, people were hanging out their flags again and decorating their windowsills with white flowers. It was the tradition; the twenty-ninth of July was the day on which the Liberation had started, the day Lucien had been assassinated. The contents of the newspaper seemed to have brought out new patriotic feelings in the city. At six o’clock, the Barones called round to ask if we would go with them to watch the procession.
    ‘Come on,’ said Jasmine firmly, and put up the CLOSED sign.
    ‘I don’t know, Jas,’ said my mother.
    ‘Papa said we could go,’ said Jasmine.
    ‘Did he?’ said my mother.
    ‘He promised, Mama.’
    ‘Then let me go and get ready.’
    She disappeared upstairs. We stood out in the street to wait. From the gardens, music was drifting over the rooftops in the still evening air. People hurried past in twos and threes.
    ‘Anselm, go upstairs and check to see if Maria is all right,’ said Leo when several minutes had passed.
    I ran up the stairs. The evening sunlight was falling in rays through the high window. ‘Mother?’ I said. ‘Are you coming?’
    ‘I won’t be long.’
    Her voice sounded strange, as though it was coming through a thick wall. ‘Are you all right?’ I called.
    ‘I’m fine.’
    I went back down again, and we waited. The clock struck seven. We could already hear the muffled applause as the king and his procession moved through the gardens. ‘Come
on
,’ Jasmine said. ‘We’ll miss the whole thing.’
    ‘You go ahead,’ I said. ‘I’ll wait for Mother.’
    ‘Are you sure?’ said Leo.
    ‘Yes. I’ll meet you by the fountain, where we always stand.’
    I watched them start along the street, Mr and Mrs Barone arm in arm, Jasmine with Michael, and Leo glancing back every few yards. I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. The house seemed very quiet after I wentback upstairs. The whole city must be at the Royal Gardens tonight. I sat down on the top of the stairs and watched the sunlight turn golden on the rooftops. From time to time, a wave of applause rose in the still air.
    As I sat there, I began to hear another sound, so soft that at first I thought I had imagined it. I stopped breathing and listened. My mother was crying.
    I went to the door of the bedroom. I wanted to speak, but the sound of her crying constricted my throat, and I could not make a sound. ‘Mother?’ I said at last. ‘What’s wrong?’
    ‘Nothing.’
    But she went on crying. I pushed open the door. She was dabbing at her eyes with her old coloured shawl and searching about for her shoes, and all the while, the tears ran down her face. ‘What is it?’ I said.
    She sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out for my hand. I thought she would tell me it was the war or Aldebaran. But instead she shook her head and said, ‘This was the day your real father died.’
    The silence closed around us, and neither of us could speak. I tried to several times, but I could not. Then the clock chimed the quarter hour, and my mother looked up. ‘Is it past seven