China Blue (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 3) Madalyn Morgan (books to read in your 30s .TXT) 📖

‘Give me a minute. I’ll catch you up.’ When she was sure Pierre would not return, Claire crossed her arms protectively over her stomach. She looked down. Until now she had managed to hide her expanding waistline. Not for much longer, she thought, tucking her shirt into the waistband of her trousers. The belt she used to use to hold up her trousers had been in her kitbag for more than a month.

‘Frédéric has something to say to you, Claire,’ Pierre said, as she stepped out of the wood and into the clearing. ‘I’ll see you at the house.’

‘Thank you for talking Pierre into keeping me in the group,’ Frédéric said when they were on their own. ‘After frightening you like that I don’t deserve your kindness.’

‘It wasn’t kindness, Frédéric. The group needs you.’ Frédéric looked down. ‘I’m sure the whole thing at the river was a misunderstanding. I will forget it, if you do, okay?’

‘Okay. I will not say anything,’ he said, looking at her stomach.

‘You won’t have to say anything if you keep looking at me like that, Frédéric. Forget what you saw and concentrate on what you have to do tonight. We are all relying on you. Come on,’ she said, walking towards the safe house. Frédéric limped along beside her.

‘Food, Claire? Frédéric?’ Pierre’s wife, Yvette, said when they arrived. ‘Sit down and eat.’

Claire sat between two of her comrades and watched Yvette dish up a watery stew that had small chunks of rabbit in it, but was mostly vegetables. The lads tucked in and Claire followed. She didn’t want the food, but she didn’t want to give anyone reason to wonder why she wasn’t eating either. She joined in the discussion on tonight’s sortie and tomorrow’s. She thought about what Pierre had said to Frédéric. He was not a liability, but she might be. She wasn’t able to move as quickly, let alone run, which wasn’t fair on the rest of the group. Nor was it fair on the baby she was carrying. Suddenly the baby kicked and she put her hand on her stomach. She smiled inwardly, and wanted to laugh. She wanted to tell everyone that she and Alain had made something beautiful. Instead, she caressed her tummy beneath the table.

She had grown too big for her single cot at the safe house, and wasn’t able to sleep, so she volunteered to do another watch, two hours on and two hours off. She looked around the table. She loved the people she was sharing the meal with. They were like family. She trusted them with her life, and they trusted her with theirs. With that thought foremost in her mind, Claire decided to tell Pierre she would be leaving the group at the end of the week. Tomorrow would be soon enough. For now she was part of this amazingly brave Resistance group and, although she felt like curling up in her comfortable bed at Édith’s house in Gisoir, she sat and ate and laughed with her comrades.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

‘Claire? Welcome home, my dear.’ Édith Belland, her face lighting up with surprise, jumped up and dashed across the room. ‘Come in, come in,’ she said, leading Claire to the table and pulling out a chair. ‘Sit down, you look exhausted.’ Édith helped Claire out of her coat and hung it up. ‘Is Frédéric with you, or André?’

‘Here, Mother,’ André called from the kitchen door. Édith turned, ran to her son and put her arms round him. He picked her up and swung her around.

‘Put me down!’ Édith giggled like a young girl. ‘Stop now. I’m dizzy as if on a merry-go-round.’ André put his mother down and held her until she got her balance. Still laughing, she pulled her pinafore down and patted her hair. ‘Where is Frédéric?’

‘He sends his love. He and Pierre have stayed to take some telephone lines down.’ Claire saw disappointment in Édith’s eyes.

‘Sit down and I’ll make coffee.’ She put her hands to her face. ‘I don’t have any hot food for you. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow, so I didn’t cook. There is cheese and cold meat, and bread.’ Édith dropped onto the chair next to Claire and began to weep.

‘Mama, don’t cry. Frédéric will be here tomorrow, the next day at the latest. Come on now.’

‘I know. I’m being silly. I have been worried, imagining all sorts of things, here on my own. I want my children home and safe,’ she said, squeezing André’s hand and then Claire’s.

Holding onto the table, Claire pulled herself up. ‘I’ll pour the coffee.’ She reached up and took cups from the dresser, before going over to the range.

‘Not for me, Claire. I want to see Thérèse. I have missed my wife,’ André laughed. Édith tutted shyly and shook her head. ‘See you tomorrow, Mama,’ he said, kissing his mother. ‘You too, Claire. Sleep well in your comfortable warm bed.’

‘I can’t wait,’ Claire said, bringing the coffee pot to the table and taking her seat.

While Claire drank her coffee, Édith went to the larder, returning with the promised cold fare. ‘You must be ravenous, child. When did you last eat?’ she asked, placing the food on the table.

‘At lunchtime. We sat and ate together – all of us – before going our separate ways. The others are meeting back at the safe house in three days. Frédéric reckons that’s how long it will take the Germans to replace the tracks we sabotaged with tracks from the sidings.’

Édith sat down. ‘Eat, child.’

Claire helped herself to bread and cheese, and Édith forked a slice of white meat – chicken or pork, Claire couldn’t tell, nor did she care – onto her plate. ‘Thank