Full Circle (12 page)

“You are in a secret chamber off the main cellar. The door is blocked by a large shelf, so it’s not visible to someone who doesn’t know it’s there. As far as they were concerned the cellar was full of potatoes, apples and the wonderful jams and jellies that my wife prepares. They helped themselves to a few jars.” Jean seemed very pleased with himself and Nick felt a wave of gratitude towards the man. Without Jean and his wife his chances of survival would have been miniscule if not impossible.

“Is every French farmhouse equipped with a secret chamber?” Nick asked feeling mellow from the brandy.

“Non. This cellar has quite a history, my friend. Would you like to hear it?” Jean was getting more comfortable on the crate ready to tell his story and Nick was only too eager to prolong the conversation. His voice was hoarse from disuse and he was very curious about his hiding place.

“This land has been in my family for generations. There was an old house built on this site that fell into disrepair and the new farmhouse was built at the turn of the century. The cellar, however, dates back to the 15
^th
century. It was divided into several chambers for storing different things like wine, food and sacks of grain, but it wasn’t used as a hiding place until the mid-16
^th
century. My ancestor, Henri Lavelle lived here with his only daughter. I am not sure how much you know of French history, but this was during the time of the Wars of Religion when the Catholics were slaughtering the Huguenots, which are French Protestants.”

“I learned about it at school,” Nick had heard of the bloody massacres that took place during the time and felt deeply touched by the plight of the prosecuted Protestants. His father had been Catholic, but his Mum had been Church of England and once Aunt Gwen took him and Ian to live in England they were brought up as Protestants.

“Well, Henri’s daughter, Minette, found a young Huguenot man hiding in the forest. He was badly wounded and she brought him to the house after nightfall. Her father wanted to just run the man through with his sword and finish him off, but Minette begged her father to have mercy on him and Henri relented. They hid the boy in this part of the cellar and Minette nursed him back to health. By the time the boy had recovered, Minette was already with child and Henri had no choice but to help them escape France.”

“What happened to them?”

“They dressed up as a Catholic priest traveling with a nun and made their way to Holland. They settled in Amsterdam where Gaspard, that was the boy, made quite a name for himself as a painter. He was a gifted artist and took commissions painting portraits. He was one of the lesser known Flemish painters. We have a painting upstairs that he painted of Minette and their two children and sent to her father. It’s superb.”

“That’s a nice story. I wonder if I have ever seen his work.”

“You might have. His name was Gaspard Mainard. He painted mostly portraits of wealthy merchants and their wives. Very profitable. But the Gaspard was not the only person who hid here.” Jean poured the last of the brandy into their glasses and Nick savored it slowly while Jean told him the rest.

“The cellar was used for its usual purposes until the beginning of the 19
^th
Century. By that time the owner was Francois Lavelle, who as you Brits might say, was the Black Sheep of the family. He was a fervent supporter of Napoleon and joined the army at the first opportunity. His wife, Hortense, refused to be left behind and was what you call a camp follower. They left Hortense’s younger sister to run the farm in their absence.

Well, Francois’s patriotism burned out very quickly once he saw the carnage and the disadvantage of being a mere foot soldier and he decided to turn the war to his own advantage. He pretended to be hit as soon as he saw an opportunity and lay on the ground waiting for his moment. Once confusion prevailed and no one was paying attention, Francois looted the corpses of the fallen soldiers and after the fighting was over passed them on to his wife. Hortense discreetly sold off the small items accumulating a nice, little nest egg.

They had a very lucrative enterprise going until Francois got greedy and made a mistake. No one noticed coins, rings or watches stolen from the common soldiers, but when he helped himself to a sapphire cabochon ring off the finger of a colonel all hell broke loose. The colonel’s wife discovered the ring missing when the body of her slain husband was brought to her after the battle and mentioned it to the General in command.

A search was ordered of every inch of camp grounds, including a body search of all present. Francois had time to pass the ring to his wife who hid it very cleverly and the ring was not found, but suspicion was aroused when a stolen watch was discovered on the body of the thief. Francois was flogged severely and given a warning that next time he would be hung for thieving. Hortense left the camp after that particular battle and Francois deserted at the first opportunity. He made it home where he stayed hidden in this cellar with his bootie until Napoleon’s defeat.”

“Where did she hide the ring?” Nick saw the grin spread across Jean’s face since he anticipated the question.

“She hid it in the only place where no one would dare look. Shoved it right up her cunny and kept it hidden there until she got back to the farm. They lived very comfortably for the rest of their lives and some of their fortune was used to build the new house. That ring was worth a lot of ducats.”

Nick laughed. “You have a very colorful family, Monsignor Lavelle.”

“I do, indeed, Nicholas. I do, indeed.” With that Jean took the empty bottle and dirty crockery and left Nick in the darkness to chuckle over the ingenuity of Madame Hortense Lavelle.

“Lucy, Good God, what a surprise!” gushed Lily as she kissed her cousin on the cheek ushering her inside. She had been in the front room waiting for Ian to finish getting dressed when she spotted her cousin walking up the street peering at house numbers.

“What are you doing in London?” Lily asked as she led her upstairs into the flat.

“My friend, Janet, and I came up on Friday from Truro. We decided that we want to do some kind of war work, but weren’t sure what that should be. Janet was in favor of joining the Women’s Royal Navy Service, but I wanted to join the Women’s Land Army. I want to help, but I don’t fancy being sent over-seas. They don’t guarantee a desk job, you know. So, Janet joined the WRENs and I became a Land Girl. I must admit that the WRENs have smarter uniforms, but I’ll feel safer staying closer to home. I am getting my posting on Monday and I am staying the weekend with Janet’s aunt in St. John’s Wood and thought I’d look you up.”

“Oh, and this must be Nick,” exclaimed Lucy as Ian walked into the room. “I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you. I’ve heard all about your wedding from my Mum. She is Lily’s father’s sister, you know,” gushed Lucy.

Lily was amused to see that Ian’s cheeks were suffused with pink as he tried to explain the situation.

“Actually, I am Ian. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said extending his hand to Lucy. “I am Nick’s brother.”

“Of course. I am sorry. So, are you visiting Lily? Are you on leave?” inquired Lucy.

“Actually, I live here,” answered Ian turning an even deeper shade of maroon.

“Right. Didn’t see that one coming,” mumbled Lucy and turned to Lily for an explanation.

“Lucy, my flat-mate Alice, you remember her, has gotten married and moved out. I had an empty room and Ian was in need of a place to stay. He is stationed here now.” Lily watched the sly look in Lucy’s face. She seemed to be enjoying Ian’s discomfort and Lily’s attempt to explain. Lucy always did like a juicy bit of gossip.

“Splendid. I am sure your husband is very pleased that his brother is here to keep you safe. Were you on your way out? Is this a bad time?”

“Actually we were just going to the pictures. Would you like to join us? We’ll have a cup of tea afterwards,” said Lily while trying to suppress a smile at the expression on Ian’s face.

“Oh, that would be lovely. If you are sure I won’t be intruding,” answered Lucy while giving Ian a demure smile daring him to refuse.

“Not at all. We’d be glad to have you.” The expression on Ian’s face said exactly the opposite, but Lucy was satisfied with the answer and jumped up off the sofa ready to leave. “Let me just powder my nose before we go. I must look a fright.” She bounced off to the loo.

Lily threw Ian an apologetic look. She knew that Lucy could be trying, especially for someone like Ian who was a little shy around new people. At eighteen, Lucy was only four years younger than Lily, but it felt more like a decade. She was childish, but at the same time strangely perceptive of people’s emotions and motives.

Lucy was the youngest daughter of Aunt Maud, Lily’s father’s sister. Maud had run off with an Irish Catholic when she was only seventeen and George Stratton had never quiet forgiven her this transgression. Their relationship was strained, so Lily never really spent much time with her numerous cousins. Maud never visited them because she was busy giving birth every year and it wasn’t until her youngest child was ten that Lily finally got to meet her. Lucy was the only girl out of eight children and her father was particularly protective of her. She grew up going to a very strict Catholic girls’ school that Patrick O’Donnell chose for his daughter and her only authority on right and wrong had been the nuns who ran the school.

Lily was sure that there had been quite a brawl when Lucy said she was coming up to London to join the Land Army. She couldn’t see Patrick approving of his daughter being away from home and living in someone else’s, most likely Protestant, house. But this was war and people did unexpected things.

For all her strict upbringing Lucy was a very chatty, friendly girl with an insatiable curiosity about other people’s lives. She was dressed like a school girl in a pleated skirt, blouse and a cardigan. Her bouncy black curls were held back with a headband and her chocolate colored eyes were full of wonder as they walked through the streets of bombed out London.

“Blimey! We heard about the bombings, but I never expected this!” exclaimed Lucy. “Where are all these people living now, then?”

“A lot of them aren’t living anywhere,” pointed out Lily, “they’ve been killed.”

“Right. Wasn’t thinking,” mumbled Lucy.

Lucy tried to drawn Ian into conversation, but most of her attempts failed. He gave her short, precise answers that discouraged further questions, but Lucy was unfazed. He suffered through the movie, but refused to take any more teenage zeal.

“Ladies, I hope you don’t mind me skipping tea, but I just remembered that I promised a visit to my aunt and uncle. I am sure you’d like to spend some time together before Lucy leaves for her posting, so I will bid you goodnight,” Ian gave them a theatrical bow and ran off, as fast as you could run with a stiff knee and a cane, before Lily had a chance to do anything to change his mind.

Lucy gazed after him for a long moment before she turned back to Lily. “He is in love with you, that one is,” she stated. “I can always tell.” Lily just gaped at her as she started to head towards the nearest tea shop.

Two hours later Lily finally put Lucy on a bus bound for St. John’s Wood and started to walk towards home. It was a long walk, but she needed time to think. Lucy in all her innocence had just blurted out exactly what Lily had been thinking. At first she thought that Ian was just feeling protective of her because of Nick, but lately she began to realize that maybe she had been mistaken. She frequently caught him watching her when she wasn’t looking and he always looked away in embarrassment when he realized that she had noticed. Ian seemed to turn down offers from his co-workers and friends to go out and instead chose to spend time with Lily. They had become like an old, married couple, who wasn’t actually married, or even a couple.

Lily wasn’t sure if Ian was even aware of his feelings. He probably thought of it as brotherly love. Lily might not have acknowledged it herself had Lucy not stated it so bluntly. “And what are your feelings for him, my girl?” she asked herself. She knew the answer to that. She enjoyed being with Ian and wanted him to spend time with her. She felt a little jealous when he mentioned some women at work and took extra care with her appearance, hoping that he would notice and give her a compliment. “Damn, you, Lucy,” she thought angrily. “I was much happier when I was oblivious to all this.”

As she walked on darkness began to descend on London. The stars were starting to twinkle in the purpling sky and a light breeze was caressing Lily’s face. She turned her face up to the sky and picked a star. She made a silent wish for Nick to come back soon and started to walk faster. She did not want to be caught in a strange neighborhood if a siren went off. By the time Lily made it home she had made a decision. As long as they could pretend that nothing was happening, they were safe. She would be a little more aloof with him and encourage him to get out more by himself. She would also try to spend more time with her friends from work and maybe he would get the hint.