The Girl You Left Behind

over her home, make her
     your servant, and now you would imprison her? For no reason?’
    ‘Sophie. Here.’ My sister
     reappeared at my shoulder. ‘At least take your things.’ She thrust a canvas
     bag at me. It overflowed with belongings she had hurriedly stuffed into it. ‘Just
     stay safe. Do you hear me? Stay safe and come back to us.’
    The crowd was murmuring its protest. It had
     become a febrile, angry thing, growing in size. I glanced sideways and saw
     Aurélien, his face furious and flushed, standing on the pavement with Monsieur
     Suel. I didn’t want him to get involved. If he turned on the Germans now it would
     be a disaster. And it was important that Hélène had an ally these next few
     months. I pushed my way towards him. ‘Aurélien, you are the man of the house.
     You must take care of everyone when I am gone,’ I began, but he stopped me.
    ‘It is your own fault!’ he
     blurted out. ‘I know what you did! I know what you did with the German!’
    Everything stopped. I looked at my brother,
     the mixture of anguish and fury on his face.
    ‘I heard you and Hélène
     talking. I saw you come back that night!’
    I registered the exchanges of glances around
     me.
Did Aurélien Bessette just say what I think he did?
    ‘It’s not what –’ I began.
     But he turned and bolted back into the bar.
    A new silence fell. Aurélien’s
     accusation was repeated in murmurs to those who hadn’t heard it. I registered the
     shock on the faces around me, and Hélène’s fearful glance sideways. I
     was Liliane Béthune now. But without the mitigating factor of resistance. The
     atmosphere hardened around me tangibly.
    Hélène’s hand reached for
     mine. ‘You should have gone,’ she was whispering, her voice breaking.
     ‘You should have gone, Sophie …’ She made as if to take hold of me, but
     she was pulled away.
    One of the Germans grabbed my arm, pushing
     me towards the back of the truck. Someone shouted something from the distance, but I
     couldn’t make out whether it was a protest at the Germans or some term of abuse
     aimed at me. Then I heard, ‘
Putain! Putain!
’ and flinched.
He
     is sending me to Édouard
, I told myself, when my heart felt as if it would
     break out of my chest.
I know he is. I must have faith.
    And then I heard her, her voice breaking
     into the silence. ‘
Sophie!
’ A child’s voice, piercing and
     anguished. ‘
Sophie! Sophie!
’ Édith burst through the crowd
     that had gathered and hurled herself at me and clutched my leg. ‘Don’t
     leave. You said you wouldn’t leave.’
    It was the most she had said aloud since she
     had come to us. I swallowed, my eyes filling with tears. I stooped and put my arms
     around her.
How can I leave her?
My thoughts blurred, my senses narrowing to
     the feel of her little hands.
    And then I glanced up and saw how the German
     soldierswatched her, something speculative in their gaze. I reached
     up and smoothed her hair. ‘Édith, you must stay with Hélène and be
     brave. Your
maman
and I will come back for you. I promise.’
    She didn’t believe me. Her eyes were
     wide with fear.
    ‘Nothing bad is going to happen to me.
     I promise. I am going to see my husband.’ I tried to make her believe me, to fill
     my voice with certainty.
    ‘No,’ she said, her grip
     tightening. ‘No. Please don’t leave me.’
    My heart broke. I pleaded silently with my
     sister.
Take her away from here. Don’t let her see.
Hélène
     prised her fingers from me. She was sobbing now. ‘Please don’t take my
     sister,’ she said to the soldiers, as she pulled Édith away. ‘She does
     not know her mind. Please don’t take my sister. She does not deserve this.’
     The mayor put his arm around her shoulders, his expression confused, the fight knocked
     out of him by Aurélien’s words.
    ‘I will be all right, Édith. Be
     strong,’ I called to her, above the noise. Then someone spat at me, and I saw it,
     a thin, vile trail, upon my sleeve. The crowd jeered. Panic filled me.
     ‘Hélène?’ I called. ‘Hélène?’
    German hands propelled me roughly into the
     back of the truck. I found myself in a dark interior, seated on a wooden bench. A
     soldier took his place opposite me, his rifle resting in the crook of his elbow. The
     canvas flap dropped down, and the engine fired into life. The noise swelled, and so did
     the sound of the crowd, as if this action had unleashed those who wished to abuse me. I