Alice has an image in her mind of what Madeleine looks like, though the girl has never given any indication of her appearance. She imagines solemn dark eyes; a thick, practical braid of hair – a farm girl’s hair – slung over one shoulder. A capable solidity to her, strong arms and thick legs. Perhaps a sheen of prettiness too, or maybe something more profound, drawn from that deep well of character and vigour.
She hears the tap of a fingernail against the grille: the signal they have chosen to indicate that they have something to say. There is no sense in wasting breath if the other is asleep, or otherwise insensible. Their voices, rendered weak in this place, are precious commodities. Alice clambers her way up.
‘I’m here, Madeleine.’
‘I thought I’d ask if you wanted me to send a message.’
‘To who?’
‘To someone inside – in one of the other cells.’
Of course. For one delirious moment, Alice had imagined she might be able to send a message to Tom.
The cells are created alike – each with the same small perforated air vent near the ceiling. Briefly, ridiculous though it is, Alice feels a prickle of jealousy that Madeleine – her Madeleine – is in contact with others besides herself. She has long ago discovered that she must be at the end of a line of cells, because there is no grille in the other wall, no sound from the other side.
‘Yes,’ she whispers back, suddenly struck by inspiration. ‘I would like to. I’d like to ask a question, actually, if that’s possible.’
‘What is it?’
‘I’d like to know whether my friends are here – Georgette, and Étienne.’ She uses their real names so that they will know it is from her. ‘I want to know if they’re here, and if they’re well.’
It takes a few hours for the reply to come. ‘Yes,’ Madeleine tells her, ‘both here. Both well … or as well as can be expected in this place.’
Good news and bad. So they were found, after all. But they are alive, too, and that counts for something.
‘Oh, and Alice …?’
‘Yes?’
‘Georgette wanted you to know that this isn’t quite how she saw married life turning out.’