Monsieur le Commandant by Romain Slocombe

Author:Romain Slocombe [Romain Slocombe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781908313645
Publisher: Gallic Books
Published: 2013-11-22T16:00:00+00:00

Ilse and Hermione did not come to Andigny that summer.

Olivier left Paris in early October with the aim of crossing the border into Spain.

In mid-autumn I received a call from my daughter-in-law. This was a few days after the Maréchal’s meeting with your Führer at which, together, these two great men laid the foundations for a sincere Collaboration at the heart of the new European order. For France, it was the end of its withdrawal from history and the dawn of its revival. Ilse’s voice was tense and anxious. She asked if she and the little one could come and spend Saturday and Sunday with me. Nothing could have given me greater pleasure. I awaited them, my heart pounding, on the station platform.

The German descended from the train cautiously. At the villa, my daughter-in-law took off her coat in the front hall and announced that she was pregnant.

I felt as if it was I who was being kicked in the stomach. ‘Olivier?’ I asked, stupidly.

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Of course Olivier. Who else?’

I apologised for my indiscretion and clumsiness. Then I said, ‘Does he know?’

She shook her head, then, clearly exhausted, went to sit in the drawing room.

‘He left twenty-eight days ago. I’ve had no news of him since. He has a good friend, Jacques Duchesne, at the BBC. When Olivier manages to reach England safe and sound, someone is supposed to say over the radio, “And we shall go to Valparaíso”. May I listen to your wireless?’

My reaction was violent. ‘Listen to dissidents? Me?’

Tears welled in her lovely blue eyes. I bent down and took her by the hand.

‘Forgive me, my little one. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Yes, I understand. We’ll listen together, if you’d like …’

She smiled at me, and her smile erased a good many things. And that, Monsieur le Commandant (you see, I keep nothing from you!), is how I violated a ban that I nevertheless respect, and the wisdom of which I would have been the first to acknowledge.

That evening, on the programme ‘The French Speak to the French’, there were any number of messages, each more poetic and sibylline than the next, but no one mentioned leaving for Valparaíso.

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