13 Park Lane: A BRAND NEW historical mystery based on real events by Naomi Clifford

Author:Naomi Clifford [Clifford, Naomi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books - Historical fiction
Published: 2024-10-28T00:00:00+00:00

The bombardment wasn’t over. It started again, and stopped again, until the French promised to give the Prussians everything they wanted – billions of francs, of course, but what they desired more than anything was the total humiliation of Paris, and that meant their soldiers must be allowed to march down the Champs Elysées. Before they arrived, young men wrapped the statues in black cloth so that the heroes of France should not witness the shame of the city. Shopkeepers shuttered their premises and stood weeping, their backs to the parade.

After that, our previous lives were gradually restored. The city gates reopened. Jacques stuffed his National Guard uniform in a cupboard and went back to work. Bakers baked. Builders built. Women did what they always did: cleaned, washed, scrubbed, smacked their children, cooked, queued, lay back for their husbands. Victoire managed to disembark from her bed and eat a little, and after a few weeks she was able to go back to her chores.

There were new hardships. Rents became due and people were suddenly hundreds, thousands of francs in debt. Half of the tenants in the upstairs rooms did a flit before Victoire could ask them to pay up. She and Jacques were all right – their rooms came with their job – but the rest of Paris… what were they meant to do? They had already burnt their furniture for firewood and pawned their valuables.

‘Soon time for you to be on your way, Marguerite,’ said Jacques. Now that the Siege was over, his small store of goodwill towards me had drained out. It was reasonable to ask me to go, I can see that now, but at the time, I was stung. Did they not like having me there? Was I not helpful? Although I had not been able to bring money in, I was always ready to do the housework when Victoire could not, and I had cared for Edith without expectation of reward, even though Jacques pocketed the fee. At the back of my mind was also the fact that I owed them money for my board and could not pay it back. Poor people never forget what it is like to be poor, and we never forget a favour.

I found work, quite by chance, only a few steps away. The woman who owned a shop selling gloves on the ground floor took me on as her servant and I slept in her back storeroom, so I was still able to see Victoire from time to time.

After the fighting stopped, Paris became a place of meetings: meetings to discuss the peace and meetings to discuss the new republic, meetings to discuss education, meetings to discuss the Church. Meetings for men only. Meetings for women only. Posters were pasted up everywhere. Demands. Rallies. Petitions. Ordinary people were tired of being told what to do and how to think by people who happened to be born into greater fortune than themselves, people who had, through their stupidity, led the country down the path to disaster.

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