In early autumn the mother from Elne arrived at dusk, carrying a battered suitcase with a baby slung in a shawl on her back. Whoever escorted her disappeared into the shadows, leaving the exhausted young woman wearing a threadbare jacket and skirt, trembling and close to tears.
‘Come in, come in, madame.’ Flora ushered her into the living room. ‘We’ve been expecting you for some time. Who brought you here?’
The woman shook her head. ‘I don’t know. He never said his name,’ she replied in halting French.
‘Perhaps as well. Come, sit, your baby is fast asleep. I must call you Juliette, and the baby, Francine,’ Flora explained, feeling awkward. ‘It’s better to start this way,’ she added, as Juliette unravelled her sling. Flora could see how small the baby was, with her mop of dark hair and skin already bronzed by the sun. She recalled how the newborns were carried out into the fresh air each day, to strengthen their bones. The time at Elne had been filled with the joy of watching puny babies filling out, and their mother’s faces relaxing with decent food and rest. The strain on Juliette’s face was all too obvious. Flora pressed a cup of mint tea into her hand.
‘This is all we have at the moment,’ she said.
Juliette looked up and smiled. She had the most startling green eyes, fringed with dark lashes. ‘You are English, I am told, so why do you stay?’
‘This is our home now and we are needed here,’ was all Flora could think of to say. In fact no one knew how long they would be permitted to live here. There was no need to alarm the new arrival, though. ‘We’ll have to register your false papers in the town hall and hide the real ones.’
Juliette dived deep into the lining of her jacket and placed them on the table. Her real name was Esther Heilbron, Juive was stamped over the card. Baby’s name was Malka. ‘And your husband?’ Flora didn’t want to interrogate, but she needed to know the facts.
‘I don’t know,’ she began to weep. ‘He went ahead, to get us visas for America, but never came back to us and then the rafles began, the sudden roundups of people in the streets and the camps. Miss Eidenbenz hid me among the Spanish mothers. It was a fisherman who came for us. You can smell fish on my clothes. He delivers his catch to the hospital and then took me… How can I ever thank him?’
‘You are safe here. We’ll tell them you have a serious chest infection and must be isolated in fresh air. Can I hold the baby, to give you a rest?’ Flora stretched out her arms to receive the sleeping child, with a sigh. How she had longed for her own little one to nurse, but her womb had stayed empty. Now in her forties, all hope of being a mother was over, but at least she had the consolation of caring for these children, children nursed over the years in the camps and in the hospital and here in the hills. She stroked the baby’s soft downy hair. ‘What a beauty she will be.’
Juliette smiled. ‘Malka’s dark like her father.’ This thought made her weep again. ‘If only I knew where fate has taken him.’
‘Come, you are exhausted. I will show you to your room. It’s small, little more than a cupboard, but you will be private. In the morning, there will be four more little people wanting to hug Francine. She won’t be Malka until you are free again, Juliette.’ Just at that moment, Kit appeared, looking grim.
‘Have you heard?’ Then he saw the stranger. ‘Ah, madame.’ He smiled, stretching out his hand.
‘Juliette, this is my husband, Kit. What’s happening?’
He held up his hand. ‘I’ll tell you later,’ he whispered and turned to the mother. ‘You must have had a long journey,’ he said, sitting down, ready to listen to her story.
Flora interjected, ‘I think Madame Juliette is exhausted and needs to eat. There’s a little bread and chestnut preserve for you. Tomorrow will be time enough to hear all about the journey.’
Kit took the hint and went in search of a candle to guide their guests up the wooden stairs. Flora carried her case that did, indeed, stink of fish. ‘You rest and I’ll bring up the food and goat’s milk. We’ll not disturb you further.’
When they were alone and settled, Flora joined Kit at the table. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘It’s terrible, they are clearing out all the camps of Jews, packing them in rail trucks to send north. Our guest got out just in time, if they searched Elne. Everything’s changing, Jean-Baptiste says. They have to fulfil some quota and are searching for refugees and even local Jews. We must be careful with her.’
‘But no one knows Juliette is here and it must stay that way,’ Flora said. ‘No point in registering her now. Even Sebastien mustn’t know she’s here. Lise has never forgiven me for risking her family. Just look at the girl. We need to build her up and find a guide to move her on. Have you spoken with Maurice Tessier?’
‘Not yet, there’s nothing for it but to send Seb to his farm, to help with his harvest. I’ll make some excuse to keep the boy away from this house. He’s still smarting about the conscription. He is hoping Maurice can make full use of him, then his exemption papers will be legal. Sandrine will see to that, I’m sure.’
They sat in silence over their cups of tea. Juliette’s arrival was fraught with danger. Everyone must get across to Spain as soon as she was fit. Flora’s heart sank at the thought of those two, out there in the cold, at the mercy of more strangers. What about her own little charges? They must be moved, too.
She passed the identity cards across to Kit. They loosened the floorboard, hidden under a sheepskin rug. Kit knelt down to pull out the large tin which contained all their documents: Flora’s passport, the children’s real identities and now two more. He paused and turned to Flora.
‘If anything should happen, get this out and bury it.’ Flora could see the pulse on his temple throbbing, as it did whenever he was worried.
It was strange having another woman in the house, but she loved the presence of the baby. The children were fascinated, too. The girls wanted to play with her, watching as Juliette opened her shirt to feed the hungry mite. Joseph and Alphonse soon lost interest and scampered out into the fields, searching for mushrooms with Kit. Over the weeks that followed, Juliette recounted the story of their journey from Belgium and across the Occupied Zone to Perpignan. That was where their luck had run out. Juliette was sent to Rivesaltes, where she lay in the beach prison, until a team from the maternity hospital brought her to Elne to deliver in safety.
Flora could picture it all so well. Juliette came from a family who had owned a lace factory. Her life was changed now beyond all recognition, but she rolled up her sleeves to help. Sometimes she fell silent and stared out anxiously across at the mountain range. How on earth were they going to get her over those peaks?
Restrictions grew even tighter, but Kit persuaded old Maurice to take on Sebastien, while he himself explored a possible safe route. When the time came to leave, they must have a reliable guide. Food was now so precious that even one extra mouth was a problem. As a nursing mother, Juliette needed extra, so Flora cut down on her own meals. They went foraging in the forests, as a way of strengthening the children for the long journey ahead. None of them had decent shoes, or boots, just espadrilles, and now the weather was changing again. The heat of summer was followed by torrential rain, turning the path into a mudslide. Those were the hardest days, when Juliette’s gloom and fear enveloped them like a fog. They cheered themselves by listening to the wireless, but the news was bitty; something about war being waged in North Africa.
‘If there’s a victory in Africa, our coast will be occupied, as a defence against invasion,’ Kit said. ‘If Jerry comes here…’ He stopped. There was no point in worrying them further.
The enormity of their situation filled Flora with panic. They were not yet prepared for flight. Looking around the house with pride, she wondered how she could let it go. Years of love and effort had gone into making this a safe haven. Now the winds of war were rattling its very foundations. What they needed was more time, time to gather essentials like clothes. The lives of six others were in their hands. It felt like a heavy weight on her shoulders.