Page 51 of Mrs. Endicott's Splendid Adventure

“Too bad. It’s a pretty little place. My men would like to relax after a taxing time in the North.

” Henri was about to let out a sigh of relief when the officer added, “Perhaps I will just take a look at the pension ...” And he strode over to it.

Apparently it was not too primitive, and the next day twelve German soldiers were billeted there.

Mrs Adams didn’t seem as worried as Ellie was for her husband.

“They won’t make trouble as long as we take good care of them,” she said to Ellie. “They are simple foot soldiers, happy to be at the seaside. They asked me about bathing and whether it was too cold at this time of year.”

Immediately after they had moved in, they got to work putting in barricades and barbed wire around the harbour, making it hard for the fishermen to reach their boats. They blocked off the path to the little beach.

Tommy and Clive sprang into action the moment they received the news.

“We need to hide the chickens and the goats,” Tommy said.

“Those Huns will take them without a second thought.” So they set to work constructing a new chicken coop behind an arbour of wisteria and staked out the goats during the day outside the property on a section of hillside where they could not be seen from any footpath.

“Just as long as the chickens don’t make too much noise,” Tommy said.

“Thank God the last rooster died and we never got a new one from the farmer.”

“And the motor car,” Clive added. “We should hide the motor car so that they don’t take it.”

“But if we need it to get away?” Ellie asked.

“There’s nowhere to go, is there?” Tommy said. “We’re sitting ducks here. And no way to get petrol.”

Ellie thought that Nico could probably find some for them, but she did realize that a British motor car, spotted on any road, would be too obvious.

They went down to the garage. Ellie drove out the Bentley, and together they managed to manoeuvre it into the space behind the garage and shed, covering it with a tarpaulin and letting the bougainvillea spill over it.

Then Clive and Tommy placed old rubbish bins and pieces of trash around it. The result was satisfying.

Ellie wrote to Abbot Gerard, warning him that Germans were now in occupation.

He wrote back that he had assurances that the abbey would be safe and allowed to continue but warned her to be very careful.

It didn’t seem that the Germans were going to make life difficult, apart from establishing a curfew at ten p.m. This upset the fishermen.

“We often go out at night or in the very early morning,” they said, appealing to the officer in charge.

“That’s when the best fishing is. So if you’d like a good fish supper, you have to let us fish. ”

“You will now fish during the daytime when your boats can be inspected,” the officer told them. “We cannot risk any kind of smuggling of goods.”

Ellie’s thoughts went instantly to Nico.

She hadn’t seen much of him in recent weeks.

If he had come to the villa, it must have been in the middle of the night.

Then one night Ellie had just gotten into bed when there was a rattle of something at her window.

She opened it, looked out and saw a dark shape of a man below.

“It’s me, Nico,” he called up to her in a whisper.

“I’ll come down.” Ellie hurriedly put on her robe and came down the stairs. She opened the front door, and he slipped inside, glancing around before he closed it behind him.

“I have to ask a favour,” Nico said. He was breathing heavily, as if he had run up the steps.

“Yes?” She looked at him uncertainly.

“I had to make a dash for your little harbour,” he said. “Luckily my speedboat can outrun them, but I can’t get back into the town. There are Germans everywhere,” he said. “Guarding the harbour. Can I perhaps stay here tonight?”

“Of course,” she said.

He smiled then, and she realized how harried he had looked.

“Come into the kitchen,” she said. “I have cognac.”

He nodded. “That’s good. I am really cold.”

She led him through and poured him a glass from the decanter. He took a sip, then gave a sigh of satisfaction. “Thank you,” he said. “And thank you for taking me in.”

Ellie nodded, not sure what to say.

“I may need to make this request more often,” he said. “Would that be all right? That I could spend the night here when I need to?”

Ellie hesitated. “Look, Nico,” she said. “I have other people in the house I can’t put in harm’s way. I have to know if you are doing something illegal—something that could get us all into trouble.”

He stared at her. “Yes,” he said. “I suppose I am, in a way. And you are right. I should not put you in harm’s way. I’ll stay here now, but ...”

She took a deep breath. “I’ve wanted to ask this question for ages. Nico, are you a smuggler? Are you bringing in black market goods?”

She was surprised that he smiled then. “I have been known, at times, to import an occasional bottle of wine or spirit without paying the taxes,” he said, “but the answer is no. But it is dangerous. I will be taking messages. I may be bringing items up to store in the shed ... items that could be useful, like guns.”

Suddenly she understood. “You’re helping the Resistance?”

“The less you know, the better,” he said. “If you see me at night, crossing the garden, then pull the blinds and look away. Then if you are questioned, you can genuinely say that you know nothing.”

“Nico—” She reached out and touched his arm. “Please be careful.”

“You sound concerned,” he said. “I’m touched. I thought you despised me.”

“Of course I’m concerned,” she said. “And I never despised you.”

“To start with you did. I saw your expression when you caught me crossing the garden that night.” He laughed.

“I thought you were up to no good. Hiding stolen goods in someone else’s shed.”

He put hands on both her shoulders. “My dear Ellie, I am going to tell you something that is strictly between us, and only because I might not make it out of this war alive. But I want you to know the truth about me ... I was born in this house. In the room where you are now sleeping.”

She stared at him, trying to digest this. She saw the twinkle in his eyes. “You’re joking,” she said.

He shook his head. “Not this time. My mother was Jeannette Hétreau.”

“The opera singer? Your mother was the opera singer?” She fought not to raise her voice. “But that’s ridiculous. I’ve met your mother, a sweet little old lady called Madame Barbou.”

“My adoptive mother,” he said. “When Jeannette became pregnant, Marcel, the very rich duke, decided he couldn’t allow a baby.

His wife was the jealous sort and would make a fuss in Paris society.

He insisted Jeannette find a good home for it, like a puppy, if she still wanted to be his mistress.

Of course she liked the perks of the job, so to speak, so she obeyed.

She found a childless couple in the village, and they agreed to say it was the child of a cousin who had died in childbirth. ”

“I saw your photograph,” Ellie blurted out. “It was in Jeannette’s drawer, hidden amongst her underclothes. A beautiful baby. I often wondered ...”

“It’s more than I’ve ever seen,” he said. “I don’t remember her at all.”

“You never met your mother?”

He gave a little sigh. “Apparently she did come to see me a few times when I was very young. But then the relationship with my father came to an end, and she never returned to the villa.”

“She just walked away. Abandoned you?”

“She preferred money and fame, I suppose. And she wasn’t the motherly type. Oh, she did provide for me financially. Paid for me to go to a good school and then to the Sorbonne. But she never wanted to meet me.”

“But then she died and left you this villa?”

He nodded. “The villa and a good amount of money. That’s why I don’t need to work hard, which is nice.”

“Why didn’t you take over the villa?”

“Two reasons. Because the truth would come out and it would upset my mother, the woman who raised me, and second because Jeannette never wanted me in her lifetime. I bore a grudge against her and wanted nothing to do with her. Let the villa crumble into dust.”

She examined his face. “So you’re really the son of a duke,” she said. “That’s why there was always something different about you. Did you never try to contact him?”

Nico shook his head. “Once,” he said. “I was in Paris at the Sorbonne, and I had the absurd notion that I should present myself to my true father. I was sure he would acknowledge me, welcome me with open arms and afford me all the privileges of a duke’s son.

I found his house in the eighth arrondissement, near the Seine, and I was getting up courage to approach the front door when it opened and he came out.

He stalked past me as if were a speck of dust on the pavement, shouted some command to his chauffeur, got in and drove away.

That look of absolute arrogance. I decided he would not want to know me. ”

“I’m sorry, Nico. It must have been hard for you.”

“On the contrary. I grew up in a loving home. My father taught me everything about fishing. I went out with him on the boat. Much better than being raised by servants or dragged around by an opera singer.”

Ellie stood up, realizing how late it was. “I’ll make up a bed for you.”

“No need. I’ll sleep on a sofa. I’m easy to please.” He smiled then. “But if I do have to come again ...”

“I’ll have the spare room ready,” she said. “And I’ll leave the front door unlocked.”

He stood up, too. “So what will your husband say?” he asked, his eyes teasing hers. “Will he beat you for inviting a strange man into your house?”

“My husband is currently asleep in his room with someone other than me,” she said. “I should go back to bed.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. “You asked me earlier why I didn’t make you an offer,” he said. “You accepted Tommy’s because you knew he would make no demands of you. I should have wanted to make demands.”

For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Then he released her and went through to the sitting room, leaving her feeling a little shaken.