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“We must continue syphoning off as much as we can. Our people are starving, and the winter will be even harder this year than last.”

“We need an explanation for the shortfall. I doubt there’s one of them that has any idea about farming. I’ll tell them we suspect mastitis as a consequence of an infection due to the poor quality of the feed. We will get the vet in to confirm our suspicions and request new grain. It will give us a few weeks, at least.”

“The churns have been redirected to the cheese factory. But they have reduced the supply for rationing.”

“Yes, he told me.” Fabienne pulled a packet of Gauloises from her pocket, offered one to Maurice, and drew down as she lit the end. She inhaled the smoke deeply.

“Don’t worry, Fabienne. They are idle and too trusting.”

“One of them is.” She looked towards the guards. “The new one is more intense. He has a German sense of humour.”

“Herr Obersturmführer Schmidt. None at all, you mean. I noticed. He will fall in line with the others soon enough.”

She inhaled deeply and blew out a long plume of smoke. “Just be careful, my friend.”

They smoked in companionable silence.

“The kommandant’s wife has instructed us to work at the house,” Fabienne said. “I will not be as free as I have been.”

Maurice nodded. “Is she hot?”

Fabienne shook her head, though Frau Neumann wasn’t an unattractive woman. She had spiked Fabienne’s curiosity and that hadn’t happened in a long time. “Shame on you. Madame Perez would not be happy to know you have an eye for Aryan women.”

He hiked up his trousers by the waistband. “These urges, Fabienne. They don’t follow the rules of war.” He laughed and started coughing.

She took another smoke, shaking her head, glad that his loyalty to his job was greater than his adherence to his marriage vows. She understood the power of those urges though, and in her experience, they were heightened by the feeling that life could end at any time. Not that she was easily able to find an outlet for her needs. Seeking out women like her had been challenging enough before the war. Now, getting close to anyone could prove fatal.

“I’ll go and give the guards the good news about the cows.” She took another long draw as she left his office and stubbed out the butt on the floor as she walked across the warehouse.

Now there was the not-so-insignificant matter of making the deliveries to tend to.

Then she had to rush back to the house to help Mamie.

She couldn’t stop her thoughts drifting to Frau Neumann as she drove. What frame of mind would the kommandant’s wife wake up in after her first evening here? Would she continue to be as amenable with them as she had, or would she be tainted by her husband’s attitude and make them suffer as a result? Fabienne needed to do whatever she could to keep Frau Neumann’s spirits up, but what would that take?

***

Johanna had been sitting at the table for the best part of an hour, agonising over her concerns about being here, when Nanny brought Astrid down for breakfast. She rose quickly from her seat and held her daughter tightly. The sadness in Astrid’s eyes reflected her own.

“Astrid is noncompliant this morning,” Nanny said. “Perhaps a word is needed, Frau Neumann.”

Johanna forced herself to smile. “Thank you, Hilda. Let’s see how breakfast goes.”

“Of course, Frau Neumann.” Nanny did up the top button on Astrid’s dress and left the dining room.

Astrid undid the button and pulled the collar from her throat as if it was choking her.

Johanna took her daughter’s small, soft hands and massaged them gently, holding her gaze, then she stroked her cheek. God, how she wanted to tell her that she understood how horrid it all was, that she felt the same way. “Did you not sleep well, my darling?” She toyed with her daughter’s hair more for her own comfort than Astrid’s who pulled away from her.

“Mutter, I don’t like it here. I want to go home.”

Johanna tugged her to her chest and held her, kissed the top of her head. “I know it’s different, that’s all,” she whispered. “Your father needs us here.”

Astrid pulled back. “Vater doesn’t love me. He doesn’t want me here.”

Johanna’s heart sank. “Astrid, that’s not true. He loves you very much.” She spoke the words, even though she’d seen no evidence of his love for either of them. She couldn’t openly agree with her daughter, no matter what she believed, because that would just cause a bigger rift between them. She didn’t want that for Astrid. Maybe Johanna was delusional to think Gerhard might come to his senses but since they were living here now, she had to try to keep the peace.

Astrid shook her head. “I want to go home. I want to live with Oma.”