I hurled my breeches on over my nightshirt, belted down barefoot to the kitchens, and there was my girl of Le Pomme d’Or in André’s arms. He was laying her on a chair with servants milling round bringing wine and heating water but she saw me through the crowd, stretched out her hands and said ‘Jacques.’
I walked awkwardly towards her, the maids all gawping and Charlot’s expression stuck sort of rigid. André straightened to face me, then his eyebrows lifted and he gave me a funny little smile. He said ‘Stay with her, will you, she’s had a terrible shock,’ then stepped aside.
I knelt down beside her. There was a smudge of blood on her forehead and more round her fingernails, and her eyes were even bigger than I remembered. She muttered something I didn’t catch, then looked me full in the face and said ‘I killed a man.’ She was shivering with cold and something else. I stopped caring about the servants and wrapped my arms tight round her. Her dress was clammy against my skin, but inside I felt hot and almost savage, I wanted to hit someone and do it hard.
Somewhere behind me André was talking. He said ‘Charlot, stop looking like a nun in a brothel and get that bed sorted out. Robert, where’s that wine? Well done, Guillot, you and Jean did absolutely the right thing.’ Then he bent down and whispered ‘What’s her name?’
I felt unbelievably stupid, but the girl said quickly ‘Bernadette Fournier, Monsieur,’ then gave me a little smile of conspiracy. Something inside me bubbled up like laughter. I felt it wouldn’t matter if the whole roof fell in as long as I could go on kneeling on that hard kitchen floor with Bernadette in my arms.
I couldn’t, of course, she had to sit up while Perette dressed her torn feet, but she told us her story while it was happening and I stopped wanting to laugh about anything. André was brilliant. He never blamed her for not warning us before, he didn’t even blink when he heard I’d gone and visited, and when she told him about stabbing that man he just squeezed her hand and said ‘Well done.’ When she finished he stood up and told the servants Mlle Fournier was in danger because she’d helped save our lives, and they couldn’t do enough for her after that. They got her washed and fed and put to bed in a little guest room for visitors’ maids, then André threw himself down in a chair by the kitchen fire, kicked the grate and said ‘The filthy, cowardly bastards. I hope she did kill him, Jacques, I hope it really hurt.’
I sat beside him. ‘It’s my fault, isn’t it? It’s because I went to see her.’
He nudged his shoe against my bare foot. ‘At least we’re warned now, we know what we’re up against.’
‘Do we? She doesn’t seem to know much.’
‘Enough,’ he said, and I wondered what I’d missed. ‘It’s too big for us, Jacques, we’ll have to talk to my grandmother. I must warn Anne’s family too, they mustn’t be involved with people like this.’
Agnès hadn’t put much wood on the fire. The last log collapsed and sprayed ashes all over the hearth.
I said ‘I’m sorry I never said …’
He stooped to brush ash off his shoe. ‘Why should you?’
Because he told me everything. Because I loved him. I said ‘I don’t know.’
He stretched and stood up. ‘Don’t be sorry. Anyone can see what she feels about you.’
I thought about that when I got back to bed. I’d had women before, you know I had, but I’d always had the feeling they only really wanted to get close to André. This girl didn’t want my brother, she wanted me. I thought of her lying just one floor below me, and when I finally went to sleep I was happy.
We went into the Comtesse before the hairdresser next morning and she received us from her bed. She was perfectly calm about it, she got Suzanne to bring breakfast, then sat up straight against the pillows while André told her everything we knew. When he’d finished she took a little sip of bouillon and said ‘The girl is sure of the reference to the Sedan?’
André nodded. ‘She heard it quite distinctly. That’s why I think we can work out the names.’
‘Quite,’ she said, almost dismissively. ‘Quite.’
I still didn’t see it, we’d only got code names like ‘Monsieur’ or ‘M. le Comte’ to work on, but the Comtesse said they weren’t code, they were protocol, and then she explained.
She told me about the Comte de Soissons, who was a prince of the blood and so important he was called just ‘Monsieur le Comte’ like there weren’t any others. She told me about Gaston d’Orléans, the King’s brother, who was First Gentleman of France and known simply as ‘Monsieur’. She said they’d got caught plotting to assassinate the Cardinal in 1636, but while Orléans had just been ticked off and was sulking in his estate at Blois, Soissons had had to leg it to the Sedan and the protection of the Duc de Bouillon. He’d been lurking there ever since, but everyone knew he was only waiting for another chance, and the fact these gentlemen were visiting him suggested the time was now.
‘We still need names,’ she said. ‘The Sedan is out of reach, we need the names of their allies in Paris.’
I said ‘There’s Bouchard.’
She gave a graceful little shrug. ‘A figurehead, valuable only for the name of Montmorency. He hasn’t the power to drive a conspiracy.’
‘There’s the gentleman we helped,’ said André. ‘He’s the one they were afraid I’d recognize. Bernadette gives him the name Fontrailles.’
She turned so abruptly a little splash of bouillon flew out of her cup. ‘Fontrailles?’
The boy nodded dumbly.
She took a napkin to the speck of bouillon on her chemise. ‘Then we are on a different battlefield altogether. Fontrailles, Marquis d’Astarac, is a créature of Orléans and formidable opposition. He has no religion and fewer morals and dislikes the Cardinal intensely. More to the point, his closest friendship at court suggests the identity of your girl’s other mysterious lord. Not “le grand Monsieur”, but “Monsieur le Grand”, the Grand Écuyer.’
I pictured that young pretty face I’d seen on the road outside Amiens. Cinq-Mars, the King’s favourite. André was right, this was too big for us.
I said nervously ‘It’s politics then, isn’t it? It’s nothing to do with us.’
The Comtesse returned to her bouillon. ‘I might agree, if they were not so eager to annihilate my grandson.’
‘It’s our business anyway,’ said André. ‘They’re going to use Spanish help, they’ll bring Spanish troops back into France. We can’t just let it happen.’
She turned to me. ‘This Spaniard you saw. You could not be mistaken?’
I thought about that little dark man with the pointy beard, I heard him saying ‘¡Madre de Dios!’ and remembered voices like that in my own village, men with scarlet plumes on their helmets swaggering into our homes. I said ‘No.’
‘No,’ she said, and put down her cup so delicately it made a tiny sort of ting. ‘Then we cannot allow it. But it will be difficult with Cinq-Mars against us.’
André stared. ‘The King will never be swayed by a mere favourite.’
The Comtesse gave a tiny snort. ‘He will by this one. No, the only man we can trust is Richelieu, and we must speak to him at once. There is a long wait for appointments, but we might manage to see him at tonight’s festivities.’
The idea terrified me. ‘I thought we needed more names.’
She picked up a little bell and tinkled it. ‘This girl of yours knows faces. I can turn them into names.’
We looked blankly at her.
She sighed. ‘These celebrations will draw all the quality in Paris. Do you not realize these gentlemen will almost certainly be there too?’
I felt such a fool you would not believe. They dressed me in silk and ribbons, and a woman to whom I would normally curtsey dressed my hair, then they gave me into the care of this Charlot and said for tonight I was lady companion to the Comtesse de Vallon. I showed myself to Jacques and said ‘Now see how safe I shall be, for no one in the world would know me like this,’ but he said ‘I would know you anywhere,’ and kissed my hand. And there I was, giddy with his kiss and warm with the love of him, dressed like a lady and going to a party in the Royal Gardens where there would be fireworks, and the world seemed a great and glorious game, for I was sixteen and a woman, and that is how it is and will always be.
We were driven across the Pont-Neuf to the Place Dauphine, where I saw a carriage with bright gilt on its panels as if there were no such thing as a Sumptuary Law. A linkman lit the way to our own carriages, and behind him strutted a short gentleman with an important beard and magnificent clothes. Beside him came a young lady, and oh, she was pretty, Monsieur, her neck so slender you would not think it could sustain the weight of red-gold hair piled above it, and her skin as pale and smooth as china. I watched the short gentleman hand her into our lead coach with M. de Roland and the Comtesse, and became very aware of the redness of my hands and the brownness of my hair and the ordinariness of my face.
‘That’s Mlle du Pré,’ said Jacques. ‘That’s Anne.’
A second group entered the gilt coach, attendants like ourselves, and lastly an elegant young gentleman whom I recognized at once, for he was the shy man with the wispy beard.
I said ‘That is one of them,’ and pressed back in my seat to allow Jacques a clear view.
‘Her brother,’ he whispered. ‘He’s a friend of theirs, that’s all.’
‘He is more than that,’ I said. ‘He left early on the evening you came, but he is as regular at these meetings as Bouchard himself.’
It was chaos outside the entrance, with loads of carriages arriving all at once, and horses snorting and bumping into each other, and footmen all yelling for everyone else to make way. The guards were trying to weed out the scruffy ones and forbidding entry to anyone in livery, but the linkmen had sort of given up, they were huddled in a lump near the gate and you could see them looking at the crowd and thinking ‘Sod that.’
André was waiting by the entrance with Anne tucked safely in his arm. I told Bernadette to hold on tight and barged through the mob to reach him, but by the time we got there the Baron had joined him with that bloody Florian, and I couldn’t say a word. They were right by the linkmen too, it was like broad bloody daylight and I had to whisper Bernadette to keep her head down. She could fool a casual glance, but Florian was only feet away and no one who’d ever seen it would forget Bernadette’s face. Then a dark shadow fell over her as Charlot planted himself between us and the torches, and gave me a tiny reassuring nod.
October’s not the best time for the Luxembourg, but it was still the most beautiful scene I’d ever walked into. Candles formed shining lines down the straight paths, hanging lanterns turned the spray from the splashing fountains into great arcs of sparkling jewels, and a warm spicy perfume wafted up from copper braziers glowing on the lawns. An orchestra was playing nearby, violins and flutes and aerophones, lilting music sort of melting into the evening air. I couldn’t actually see them, they were probably hiding in the bushes, but that made it somehow more dreamlike, and Bernadette hugged my arm with pleasure. I wanted like anything to just give in and enjoy it with her, but could only say ‘For Christ’s sake keep your head down,’ and fix my eyes on Charlot’s back.
He didn’t let us down. He stepped discreetly to the Comtesse’s side, said ‘Excuse me, Madame,’ and bent like he was untangling her dress from something on the ground. The Baron politely turned to chat to Florian, but I saw Charlot’s head close to my grandmother’s and knew he’d got the message over. A moment later and I saw her whispering to André. He wasn’t as good an actor as she was, the shock sharpened his whole face, but after one glance at Florian he pulled himself together and turned back to Anne. She looked wonderingly up at him, but he managed a smile and folded her hand tenderly back in his arm.
The Comtesse was superb. She kept leading us along, chatting brightly to the Baron and Florian, and leaving us free to do our job. Charlot dropped to the back so we could report what we saw, but we didn’t spot anyone till we came to a huge white marquee in a chained enclosure with Cardinal’s Guards patrolling the perimeter.
‘That’s one,’ said Bernadette, tipping her head at the officer in charge. ‘I think they call him d’Arsy.’
I hoped she’d got it wrong, but then the Guard turned his head and I saw him myself, a thickset man with heavy brows, the dark man I’d kicked back in the alley. I said ‘She’s right.’
They were everywhere after that. Bernadette saw one in the uniform of the Maréchaussée, one of the Garde Française, and another Charlot recognized as an officer who worked on the Porte Saint-Antoine. I only spotted one myself, the plump man in the courtyard André had spiked in the shoulder, but Charlot said that was bad enough, his name was Lavigne and he was in Cinq-Mars’ own entourage.
We started to wander back the way we’d come, and then another face sprang into focus, Bouchard himself sitting at a crowded table opposite the marquee. Bernadette began dutifully picking out his companions for Charlot, but I wasn’t listening, I was looking at Bouchard. He was watching André, following every step of his progress through the crowd, and to my surprise he was smiling.
The Comtesse was a fine actress. She told the Baron so charmingly that we had a prior engagement for the fireworks that even I who knew she was lying was almost fooled. The du Prés departed at once, though I noticed M. de Roland kept hold of Mademoiselle’s hand even when he had kissed it and wondered what she was saying to bring such light to his face.
But there was no time for such things now, and we hastened to tell the Comtesse all we had discovered. There was still one regular I had not seen, he with the florid face called Dubosc, but she only shuddered and said ‘Thank heavens we are spared that. But I dare not delay, the fireworks will start any moment and His Eminence will doubtless leave straight afterwards.’
M. de Roland hesitated. ‘You won’t tell him about the du Prés?’
She regarded him with severity. ‘Chevalier, duty is duty.’
He stood his ground as a lover should. ‘Florian is feeble-minded, he can’t realize what he’s involved in. Anne knows nothing, but she’s already begged me to extricate him from his dreadful friends.’
‘It’s too late for that,’ said the Comtesse. ‘The friendship is known, and our honesty will be impugned if we suppress it. I shall say we believe him an innocent tool, and if the facts support it I am sure no action will be taken against him. Will that satisfy you?’
M. de Roland bowed.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘Now get me into that marquee, my feet are freezing and I want to sit down.’
And there was the problem, Monsieur, for we had first to convey her past this d’Arsy, who as Cardinal’s Guard might deny entrance to any but the King himself. But M. de Roland made a plan, and we gathered near the chain of the private enclosure while he walked alone to the opening. Bouchard and his companions watched warily, for though they could not know what he had learned from me, they perhaps feared he had guessed the identity of M. Fontrailles and was about to disclose it.
D’Arsy squared his feet more firmly as M. de Roland announced himself, then said ‘I regret, Chevalier, but His Eminence wishes no more guests tonight. I will pass the message to his secretary, who will make you an appointment for another day.’
Across the path I saw Bouchard smile.
M. de Roland tilted his head to one side and regarded d’Arsy through half-closed eyes. ‘Don’t I know you?’
D’Arsy must have expected it, but perhaps he hoped the darkness and his hat would disguise his features. He said ‘I don’t think so, Monsieur,’ and looked away.
‘But I do,’ said the Chevalier, ‘and we have business between us, you and I.’
Charlot said ‘That’s it, Madame’, and the Comtesse slipped from my side to stand behind the great bulk of her valet.
I did not hear d’Arsy’s reply, but then M. de Roland spoke again, with his voice pitched louder. ‘Do you say I am lying?’
Heads turned all over the enclosure, and Bouchard half rose from his seat.
D’Arsy made a great effort to maintain his dignity. ‘Monsieur, these are the Royal Gardens of the Luxembourg, and this is not the place for such a discussion.’
I heard the Chevalier’s smile in his voice. ‘So will you appoint one or will I?’
A gasp sounded all round us, and Charlot said ‘Now.’ There was a faint movement behind him and the merest clink of the chain, but I dared not look, I must do as everyone else and keep my eyes on the Chevalier and the Guard.
D’Arsy appeared suddenly to relax. ‘All right then, I’ll call on you tomorrow.’
Someone at Bouchard’s table laughed, but I did not care, for I saw a little group on the other side of the chain standing to watch the fracas, and among them was now our own Comtesse, as dignified and elegant as if she had never scrambled under a chain like a little girl playing cache-cache. Jacques at once began to walk towards M. de Roland.
The Chevalier began to say ‘I would rather discuss it now,’ but saw Jacques approaching and knew our business was done. He added ‘But noon tomorrow will be acceptable,’ then bowed and turned away. Beyond him I saw the Comtesse making herself known at the marquee, and a moment later a Guard came to escort her inside.
M. de Roland walked back to us with Jacques, their heads together as if in conference. He smiled as he reached us and said only ‘Well, she’s in.’
‘And you have an engagement for the morning,’ said Charlot, with a hint of reproach.
M. de Roland shrugged. ‘He took me by surprise there. I didn’t think he was that good, did you, Jacques?’
‘No,’ said Jacques bluntly. ‘I wonder what made him change his mind.’
Oh, we should have seen it then, Monsieur, but M. de Roland had no interest in the question and I soon understood why. He announced casually he was off to keep an appointment, and there was not one of us but guessed with whom.
Charlot said ‘Perhaps you might take M. Gilbert with you. There are people here who might be only too pleased to encounter you unprotected.’
We looked towards the table where Bouchard sat with his friends. They appeared more relaxed now the Chevalier had been refused the enclosure, and were passing a bottle between them in high spirits. The others we had seen had all by now joined them, but the red-faced man was still not among them and I wondered if perhaps his wounded leg kept him home.
‘They’re safe enough there,’ said M. de Roland. ‘If they wander off then I’ve told Jacques where to find me. But I’m sorry, Charlot, I need to do this alone.’
If he had in mind what I believed I could not but agree. Jacques merely said ‘I’ll watch them, André,’ and fixed his stare on Bouchard as a dog guards a bone.
M. de Roland thanked him, bowed to us all, then set off among the crowds towards the distant hedges of the labyrinth.
Beyond the marquee I saw movement in the dark, where men in green bustled almost invisibly among the towers and racks of rockets. There was a large shrouded mass at the front, and as the men hauled away its covering there was revealed a great stone lion with wide-open mouth. The crowd murmured with expectation, while within the enclosure servants emerged from the marquee and set up chairs on a square of gold cloth so their occupants might face the display. Somewhere out of sight a great gong was sounded, and the orchestra began a new and grander theme.
The fireworks were about to start.
Extracts from her diary, dated 13 October 1640
The hut is tucked away beyond the hedges of the dédalus, concealed within a bosquet of cypress. I have heard people wonder how the Luxembourg gardens are maintained when no gardeners are ever visible, and was amused to discover so ingenious a solution.
Florian seemed uneasy. I thought perhaps he was concerned by the isolation, but he said King’s Musketeers were protecting the gardens and there would be no footpads or ruffians to worry about tonight. Still he hesitated, and as we reached the path through the cypress he stopped and said ‘I don’t know, perhaps I shouldn’t do this.’
I said ‘Surely you know you can trust André? He would no more let harm come to me than you would yourself.’
He explained quickly his concern was more for my reputation. ‘You mustn’t stay more than twenty minutes, that would be most improper. The first part of the firework display ends with the firing of a giant rocket, and when you hear that you must leave at once and alone. You can’t be seen with him, Anne, there must be at least ten minutes between you.’
It seemed foolish to me, for I had been walking arm in arm with André all evening, but he said what was done in the company of my father and brother was different from what was done alone, so I gave him my word and he left me. I walked down the gravel path, pulled open the door of the hut, and went in.
It was dark, but I had taken a candle from the rose garden as we came, and now planted it in the soil of an earthenware pot by the door. As the flame flickered and grew strong I saw more of my surroundings and wanted to laugh at their unromantic nature. The hut was large, but a table displaying a map of the labyrinth occupied most of the floor, while the walls were almost covered by the array of implements standing against them: spades and forks with their business ends caked in dry, grey earth, a red-handled axe propped in a corner, and a great pair of shears hanging from a rusty hook. In one corner lay discarded remnants of broken statuary, a lion with no head, and the grey stone arm of a lady all by itself, flung out eloquently with open palm and fingers that pointed at nothing.
I heard footsteps outside.
Almost I hoped it was Florian returning, but my mouth was dry and my heart seemed to kick inside my chest as if my body knew who was really there. I backed stupidly against the wall, and the handle of a spade dug into my back.
The door juddered open, but no one came in. A voice said ‘Anne?’
I came further into the candlelight, then a dark shape stepped forward, his arms went about me, my face was pressed against the soft, cold wool of his cloak, his hand was twining in my hair, his voice murmured ‘Anne, Anne,’ my hands met behind his neck to pull his head down, and then he kissed me.
It was not like the kiss in the forest. There was a year of hunger behind it, mine as well as his, and I was standing on tiptoes to get as much as I could. And now I knew how, my mouth opened to his without even thought, then his tongue was inside and I gave him mine back, and there was nothing but the strength of his arms, the pressure against my back as he pulled me deeper into him, and my need to have him closer still. His hand slid down the line of my back to the curve of my buttocks, and then he was crushing me against him so that my body opened all by itself until I was trembling and my feet unsteady on the ground. I pulled back my mouth, and at once he lifted his head, pulled in a sharp breath, then curved his hand round my head to lay it against his chest. I felt the hammering of his heart slowly subside and his breathing grow soft. After a moment he said ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.’
I butted my head lightly against his chest.
He stroked my hair. ‘But I shouldn’t, my darling, there’s something I have to tell you, and you might hate me afterwards.’
I tried to imagine hating André. ‘What is it?’
He did not answer at once. I looked up and said ‘André, what?’
He put me gently away from him. ‘Florian. And perhaps your father.’
Fear licked me inside. ‘What?’
He took a deep breath. ‘Your brother’s friends, Bouchard and some others, they’re involved in something dangerous. My grandmother has to speak to the Cardinal.’
I had a sinking feeling as if this were something I had already known. ‘You think they’ve involved Florian?’
He did not answer directly. ‘She won’t blame him, she’s promised me. I’ve said I’m sure he’s innocent.’
The fear did not leave me. I groped blindly at his doublet, frantic to make him understand. ‘He’s not responsible, you know he’s not. Even my father would never do wrong deliberately. Please, we must keep them out of this.’
He seemed almost as desperate as I. ‘I will, I’ll go to the Cardinal myself if I have to. Oh God, Anne, please don’t cry.’
He held me again to his chest, and I leaned my head against him and closed my eyes. After a moment I felt brave enough to ask ‘Is it so very dangerous, what they’ve done?’
He kissed the top of my head. ‘No one’s done anything yet, it’s only a conspiracy.’
Relief rippled through me. I knew about conspiracies, Jeanette said they were everywhere you looked. ‘You mean it’s just politics?’
‘Just politics,’ he said. ‘Please, you mustn’t worry.’
Politics could not worry me, Father speaks as if intrigue is natural since so many of the nobility do it. Everything felt peaceful again, and the soft explosion of distant fireworks seemed nothing to do with us.
He said ‘I must let you go, your family will be concerned.’
I laced my hands behind his back.
He drew in his breath. ‘Be careful, Mademoiselle.’
I did not want to be careful. I wanted to feel again that it was just the two of us together, and I strained upwards for his kiss.
He did kiss me, but only lightly, then pressed his cheek against mine.
I was confused. ‘You’ve told me, and you know I don’t hate you.’
I felt his cheek move as he smiled. ‘No.’
‘Then why won’t you …?’
He lifted his head. ‘Because if I kiss you again I might not be able to stop.’
His eyes were intent on my face, and as I looked at him his breathing quickened.
I tugged his head down towards me and said ‘I don’t care.’
It started soon after André left.
We saw the Comtesse being escorted out of the marquee, but Richelieu obviously wasn’t finished talking to her yet, the footmen placed her right by the biggest chair where she stood looking sort of smug. I felt even smugger when I looked at d’Arsy standing forbiddingly at the entrance, with no idea André’s grandmother was just behind him.
Then the Cardinal himself came out. I couldn’t see much of him, there was just a great lump of guards with this little streak of scarlet hiding in the middle. Charlot said it was always like that, he thought everyone was out to get him, but I looked over at Bouchard’s mob and thought he maybe had a point.
Light flashed down towards the palace, then the sky split in a crash like twenty muskets firing together. For a second my knees quivered with the urge to drop, then I took in the white streaks whooshing up into the sky like lightning going backwards and saw them burst into sparks that fell gracefully to earth like flakes of snow. The fireworks had started.
I’d never seen anything like it. It was like someone was scribbling light all over the sky, making clusters that burst like flowers opening and fountains that showered down like glittering rain. There was stuff on the ground too, they’d got wooden frames that suddenly broke into whirls of whizzing light, a castle burning, a volcano with fire coming out, something new every time. It was like magic.
‘They are good tonight,’ agreed Bernadette. ‘We have them every year on the Place de Grève, but these are quite good.’
I felt like an ignorant peasant, but then she squeezed my arm and said ‘Tonight they are magical to me too.’ Her eyes glistened with the reflection of a thousand stars.
The excitement was all about us. Every face was turned up in wonder, men with hardened faces and swords on their hips suddenly turned into children. I thought of Bouchard and felt a stab of panic as I remembered I was meant to be watching him. There was still a bunch of men at his table, but my eyes were half-dazzled, I was seeing white spots and couldn’t be sure. I said to Bernadette ‘Are they there? Has anyone gone, are they all there?’
‘All,’ she said. ‘There is still no Dubosc, but I do not think our Chevalier need fear one man.’
My eyes began to adjust, and I saw Bouchard sitting safely in the middle. The relief was so huge it took a moment before the oddness struck me. He’d seen André try to get into the enclosure, he must know we were on to him, he ought to have been dashing home and trying to get a boat out of France, but he was just sitting there with the same complacent smile I’d noticed before.
Something in my head felt suddenly cold. I thought of d’Arsy agreeing to meet André tomorrow, and that didn’t make sense either. Everyone knew André had beaten Bouchard, so what made d’Arsy confident enough to risk it? Nothing I could think of, unless tomorrow was never going to come.
I still couldn’t see how, I mean they were right there in front of me. My brain whizzed round trying to find something I’d missed, then I looked down at Bernadette and it hit me.
I said ‘That man last night, you’d never seen him before.’
She shrugged. ‘He was a lackey, a hired assassin, Paris is full of such people.’
I had a horrid feeling the Luxembourg might be too. I tried telling myself they’d never get past the gate, then remembered what the elegant lady beside me really was. Clothes, that’s all it came down to, bloody clothes.
I turned to Charlot. ‘I’m going after the Chevalier.’
His eyes moved to Bouchard’s table, then back to me.
I said ‘I don’t care, I know something’s wrong.’
He nodded. ‘Then you must not waste time talking. Go now. I will look after the ladies.’
I heard Bernadette’s gasp but couldn’t afford to wait, I just plunged into the crowd without looking back. André had said beyond the labyrinth, I saw the tall green hedge in the distance and headed straight for it.
As soon as I saw clear space in front of me I began walking faster and faster. Behind me I heard an almighty great bang, like the biggest firework we’d had yet, but I didn’t so much as turn round, I put down my head and just ran.