Synopsis: |
EXTRACT Hotel de Fleuve, Monday 22nd of June 1942. Lucette Moreaux lifted her head from the pillow. The bedroom curtains were billowing inwards and the luminous clock on Otto's side of the bed showed seven minutes past five in the morning. Her man was still asleep. She inched her left leg sideways, bent her knee, felt cold floorboards under her foot. Her other foot followed, a bedspring twanged as she stood up but her lover's rhythmic breathing never wavered. Shivering in a draft from the window and naked but for suspenders and stockings she picked up Madame Cazalet's dress, stepped into it and struggled to join what was left of the fasteners. Retrieving her handbag from under the bed she opened it, tucked Dadan's pistol into the top of her stocking and pushed it down until it hurt her thigh. Visions of love, war, death, sex, loyalty and duty flickered together in a confused jumble inside her head as she stooped to pick up her shoes. |