The Girl You Left Behind

you will go home
     to your daughter. Maybe even within months.’
    Liliane’s good hand lifted to the side
     of her face, tracing a livid red scar that ran from the corner of her eyebrow along her
     cheek. She seemed deep in thought, a long wayfrom me. I prayed that
     my certainty had reassured her a little.
    ‘We have survived so far,
     haven’t we?’ I continued. ‘We are no longer in that hellish cattle
     truck. And we have been brought together. Surely the fates must have looked kindly upon
     us to do that.’
    She reminded me, suddenly, of
     Hélène in the darker days. I wanted to reach across to her, touch her arm, but
     I was too weak. I could barely stay upright on the wooden bench as it was. ‘You
     have to keep faith. Things can be good again. I know it.’
    ‘You really think we can go home? To
     St Péronne? After what we each did?’
    The soldier began to push himself upright,
     wiping his eyes. He seemed irritated, as if our conversation had woken him.
    ‘Well … maybe not straight
     away,’ I stammered. ‘But we can return to France. One day. Things will be
     –’
    ‘We are in no man’s land now,
     you and I, Sophie. There is no home left for us.’
    Liliane lifted her head then. Her eyes were
     huge and dark. She was, I saw now, completely unrecognizable as the glossy creature I
     had seen strutting past the hotel. But it was not just the scars and bruises that
     altered her appearance: something deep in her soul had been corrupted, blackened.
    ‘You really think prisoners who end up
     in Germany ever come out again?’
    ‘Liliane, please don’t talk like
     that. Please. You just need …’ My voice tailed away.
    ‘Dearest Sophie, with your faith, your
     blind optimism in human nature.’ She half smiled at me, and it was a terrible,
     bleak thing. ‘You have no idea what they will do to us.’
    And with that, before I could say another
     word, she whipped the gun from the soldier’s holster, pointed it to the side of
     her head and pulled the trigger.

30
    ‘So we thought we might take in a
     movie this afternoon. And this morning Jakey’s going to help me walk the
     dogs.’ Greg drives badly, dipping his foot on and off the accelerator, apparently
     in time with the music, so that Paul’s upper body lurches forward at odd intervals
     all the way down Fleet Street.
    ‘Can I bring my Nintendo?’
    ‘No, you cannot bring your Nintendo,
     Screen-boy. You’ll walk into a tree like you did last time.’
    ‘I’m training to walk up them,
     like Super Mario.’
    ‘Nice try, Small Fry.’
    ‘What time are you coming back,
     Dad?’
    ‘Mm?’
    In the passenger seat, Paul is scanning the
     newspapers. There are four accounts of the previous day’s events in court. The
     headlines suggest an impending victory for TARP and the Lefèvres. He cannot
     remember the last time he felt less elated by a winning verdict.
    ‘Dad?’
    ‘Damn. The news.’ He checks his
     watch, leans forward, fiddles with the dial.
    ‘Survivors of German concentration
     camps have called on the government to fast-track legislation that would aid the return
     of works of art looted during wartime …
    ‘Seven survivors have died this year
     alone while waitingfor legal processes to return their
     families’ possessions, according to legal sources, a situation that has been
     described as “a tragedy”.
    ‘The call comes as the case of a
     painting allegedly looted during the First World War continues at the High Court
     –’
    Paul leans forward. ‘How do I turn
     this up?’
Where are they getting this stuff?
    ‘You want to try Pac-man. Now there
     was a computer game.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Dad? What time?’
    ‘Hold on, Jake. I need to listen to
     this.’
    ‘– Halston, who claims her late
     husband bought the painting in good faith. The controversial case illustrates the
     difficulties for a legal system facing an increasing number of complex restitution cases
     over the past decade. The Lefèvre case has attracted attention across the globe,
     with survivors’ groups …’
    ‘Jesus. Poor Miss Liv.’ Greg
     shakes his head.
    ‘What?’
    ‘I wouldn’t want to be in her
     shoes.’
    ‘What’s that supposed to
     mean?’
    ‘Well, all that stuff in the papers,
     on the radio – it’s getting pretty hardcore.’
    ‘It’s just business.’
    Greg gives him the look he turns on
     customers who ask to run a tab.
    ‘It’s complicated.’
    ‘Yeah? I thought you said these