You Let Me Go by Eliza Graham

Author:Eliza Graham [Graham, Eliza]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
Published: 2021-03-24T16:00:00+00:00

17

The postgirl brought the letter with the address written carefully in spiky ink on the envelope. Rozenn recognised the concierge’s handwriting, often seen on missives scolding residents. Please carry out the correct procedure for rubbish bins . . . Residents with children are reminded that slamming doors and shouting is anti-social. Gramophones and radios should not disturb other residents . . . The woman was perfectly suited for operating under the Nazis. Papa paid her a small retainer for forwarding mail to St Martin, careful to drop into his last conversation with her the information that Yann was only accompanying them temporarily, to help settle them in, before returning to the city.

When he returned at lunchtime Papa opened the brown envelope without even taking off his hat. Inside was a single sheet of writing paper and a folded official-looking envelope addressed to Yann. When he’d read the concierge’s letter, Papa let out a sigh.

‘What is it?’ Rozenn asked.

‘“People” have been asking about Yann.’

‘The police?’

‘Hopefully just ours, not the Germans.’

Yann came downstairs. Papa handed over the envelope. Yann opened it.

‘They want to know why I haven’t registered with the Ministry of Labour and provided my new address at the relevant mairie.’

‘What if she tells them?’ Rozenn asked. ‘And they telephone their counterparts here and send them out to search the house for Yann?’

Papa removed his hat. ‘We knew this would happen. It was just a matter of when.’

‘We need to get him away.’ Maman spoke from the kitchen, a stack of plates in her hands.

Papa gazed at his hat as if it might provide a solution. ‘I’ve made enquiries in Lannion. I thought asking outside the village might be safer. But they haven’t come to anything.’ He sounded surprised. Rozenn wasn’t. He’d be asking in his vague, kind way, so polite that people didn’t even realise what he wanted.

‘I’ve made enquiries, too,’ Rozenn said.

‘What?’ Maman looked at her as though suspecting sunstroke.

‘I didn’t mention Yann.’

The plates in Maman’s hands rattled. Rozenn hoped she wasn’t going to drop them. ‘You don’t know who we can trust.’

‘Trust.’ Claire looked up from the table where she sat playing with her horse. ‘Who can you trust?’ Sometimes it sounded as though she knew what she was talking about.

Rozenn felt a wave of impatience at them all. They sat here so passively, hoping an opportunity would fall into their laps. She needed to find Luc again. ‘I have a contact,’ she said. ‘He’s reliable and he knows what goes on in the village.’

‘I forbid you to continue these conversations,’ Papa said. He had rarely looked so furious with her. ‘You’re just a girl, Rozenn, you have no idea.’ He kicked out at the medical bag at his feet. The glass bottles inside rattled.

‘Sometimes I think I’m the only one who wants to do anything.’ She said it quietly but with conviction. ‘The rest of you are just waiting for something to turn up for Yann. It won’t.’

For a moment she thought he might actually strike her.

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