Wolfsangel Read Online Free PDF

alcove.’
    ‘Might it come to that?’ Sabine said. ‘Surely we’re putting you and your family at great peril?’
    ‘Not at all,’ I said, with far more confidence than I felt. ‘Just a precaution. The police have no reason at all to come up to L’Auberge.’
    ***
    ‘Where did you two skive off to after the harvest?’ Maman said, as I slid the diced courgettes into boiling water. ‘And where is your brother? He knows the hen house needs fixing, or foxes will rip those poor beasts to shreds.’
    ‘Still out with Olivier,’ I said. ‘And we found a family hiding from the Gestapo in the woods,’ I went on, as if it was some routine task. ‘We brought them here, up to the attic.’
    She planted her hands on her aproned hips and glared at me. ‘You what? What people? Are you mad, girl? What if those Gestapo thugs come here? You know what happens to people who harbour those types. We’ll be lined up against a wall and shot. Shot! Do you understand? Or they’ll send us to a slave camp in some German wasteland. And you know nobody comes back from the camps.’
    Had she said that to spite me, as if she knew how much I dreamed of my father coming home? Like her barbed eyes could see right into my heart, and the hollow that deepened every day since the Germans had stolen my ally, my friend; the only one apart from Patrick who made life bearable with her.
    ‘How can you say that? He will come back.’ In that instant, as I grabbed the pot to strain the vegetables, I didn’t think it possible to feel more resentment than was wedged in my chest.
    In my agitated haste, water splashed and scalded my fingers. I shrieked and dropped the pot, which clattered into the stone sink. I rushed over to the pail of water and sank my hand into it.
    Maman didn’t ask to see the burnt fingers; she didn’t seem to care that I was in pain. She never uttered a word as I told her about the Wolfs’ escape and their hideout in the old witch’s hut. A fly buzzed around her head but she didn’t wave it away; she simply gaped at me with her hateful glare as if she could not believe, or grasp, what I was saying.
    ‘Get that family out of here,’ she said, finally swatting at the fly with her tea towel. ‘I won’t conceal strangers in this house.’
    ‘But they deserve to feel safe.’
    ‘Safe? You must be joking, Célestine. Don’t you think I know what goes on in the cellar?’ Another sharp flap of the tea towel. ‘What your brother, Olivier, and their communist friends get up to? Someone will find out soon enough about their … their activities, and tell the police. No, L’Auberge is not a safe place at all. Besides, why can’t your sister take this family?’
    ‘She might. I need to speak to Félicité first, but for now I want them to feel safe and welcome here. Besides, Patrick and his friends are not communists, and nobody will say anything. Most people in Lucie are proud of our resistors. They’ve had enough of Pétain and Vichy; enough of the Germans. Everyone wants to help get rid of our occupiers.’
    Maman shook her head. ‘How naïve you are. People –– yes even the friendly villagers –– are only interested in protecting themselves. Someone would inform the Germans of their … their resistance in a flash, if it suited them.’
    I leaned against the table, clamping my scalded fingers in my armpit.
    ‘So what are we supposed to do, Maman? Enemy troops have overtaken our country, and they’re not going away. Should we just keep our heads down and accept that we’re now powerless, humiliated citizens? Or do we react? Resist ? Besides, I know you’d never turn in that family upstairs.’ I waved an arm in the direction of her bedroom. ‘Would you?’
    Maman’s eyes glittered the brilliant green of unripe grapes. ‘You’ve always been a stubborn little bitch, haven’t you?’ she said. ‘Right from the start.’
    She set her mouth in a crabby line as she banged cutlery and crockery onto the blue and