killing. A man had died and it would be as if nothing had happened, and yet Sylvie had been shocked at what she had seen in the cellar too. Nicole had to know more: why had her father been the one to pull the trigger and what was Sylvie getting into? She longed to confide in her sister.
A yearning for the old familiar days surged through her, but she shook it off. ‘I –’
‘What?’
Nicole paused and they stared at each other.
‘I saw you.’
The horror of the night erupted, but something told Nicole to keep her mouth shut about the shooting.
‘What?’
Nicole thought quickly. Don’t mention the gun. Don’t mention the blood. ‘Why did you let Mark kiss you?’ she said instead.
Sylvie looked astonished.
‘I was in the passage. I saw you with Mark.’
Sylvie gazed at her feet before looking up and staring at her sister. She seemed unnaturally calm and gave Nicole a tight smile.
‘I hope that was all you saw.’
Nicole didn’t reply.
Sylvie looked at her pointedly.
‘I saw you, that’s all. He was my friend, Sylvie. Haven’t you got enough?’
‘I’ve known Mark for some time, Nicole. I don’t know what else to say.’
‘Don’t you?’
Sylvie gestured at the door. ‘I only came in to say dinner is served. Shall I say you’d like a tray? As far as Mark and I are concerned, you need to grow up. Is that why you left the ball without telling anyone you were going? I’m sorry if what you saw upset you.’
‘You know it upsets me, Sylvie, don’t pretend innocence.’
As Sylvie turned to leave, Nicole struggled with her resentment; failing, she picked up a paperback and hurled it at Sylvie. Her sister ducked as it thudded to the floor.
Nicole gazed at the upturned book, its pages fluttering in the breeze from the open window. There was silence for a moment while Sylvie glanced in the mirror, pushed a curl of hair from her forehead and pursed her lips to spread the lipstick.
‘I think you talked Father out of giving me a fair share in the business.’
When Sylvie spoke again it was without looking at Nicole. ‘Not this again. It wasn’t me. He thought it better if one of us had sole control.’
‘Nothing to do with you being perfect?’
‘He did it for the sake of the business. Now dry your eyes. And, by the way, I need you to cut me eight metres of thecream silk shot with gold. No rush, but you never know when I might need it.’
After Sylvie had gone Nicole sprawled face down on the bed, buried her head in the pillow and chewed the skin round her thumbnail until she tasted blood. Always longing to be a proper French daughter, she’d thought being left out of the family business was bad enough. Now her pain was far more primal than that. Her sister and Mark had been present at a murder. What did that make them? What did it make her to have witnessed it? How could her father slaughter a man as if he was an animal? And as she thought that, a strange feeling scooped out her middle, leaving her hollow. Apart from Lisa, who could she trust?
2
----
MOON IN THE WATER
Late July to October 1952
12
In the days that followed, Nicole avoided both her sister and her father, except for the briefest of interactions. With no idea why Sylvie and her father had been in the cell, she longed to confront them over the murder, but the instinct of self-preservation stopped her and she kept silent, gradually locking it at the back of her mind. In her darkening world, she wondered what might happen to the memory of a thing you’d rather not have seen. Could it be suppressed? Wouldn’t it remain hidden only until the time came when it began to smell, like the rotten thing it was? And what if she had no control? She clasped a hand over her mouth, as if to prevent the truth from spilling, but nothing could prevent it from haunting her dreams.
They seemed puzzled by her behaviour and Sylvie even popped into Nicole’s bedroom early one morning, dressed for work, with a sombre look in her eyes.
‘I
A yearning for the old familiar days surged through her, but she shook it off. ‘I –’
‘What?’
Nicole paused and they stared at each other.
‘I saw you.’
The horror of the night erupted, but something told Nicole to keep her mouth shut about the shooting.
‘What?’
Nicole thought quickly. Don’t mention the gun. Don’t mention the blood. ‘Why did you let Mark kiss you?’ she said instead.
Sylvie looked astonished.
‘I was in the passage. I saw you with Mark.’
Sylvie gazed at her feet before looking up and staring at her sister. She seemed unnaturally calm and gave Nicole a tight smile.
‘I hope that was all you saw.’
Nicole didn’t reply.
Sylvie looked at her pointedly.
‘I saw you, that’s all. He was my friend, Sylvie. Haven’t you got enough?’
‘I’ve known Mark for some time, Nicole. I don’t know what else to say.’
‘Don’t you?’
Sylvie gestured at the door. ‘I only came in to say dinner is served. Shall I say you’d like a tray? As far as Mark and I are concerned, you need to grow up. Is that why you left the ball without telling anyone you were going? I’m sorry if what you saw upset you.’
‘You know it upsets me, Sylvie, don’t pretend innocence.’
As Sylvie turned to leave, Nicole struggled with her resentment; failing, she picked up a paperback and hurled it at Sylvie. Her sister ducked as it thudded to the floor.
Nicole gazed at the upturned book, its pages fluttering in the breeze from the open window. There was silence for a moment while Sylvie glanced in the mirror, pushed a curl of hair from her forehead and pursed her lips to spread the lipstick.
‘I think you talked Father out of giving me a fair share in the business.’
When Sylvie spoke again it was without looking at Nicole. ‘Not this again. It wasn’t me. He thought it better if one of us had sole control.’
‘Nothing to do with you being perfect?’
‘He did it for the sake of the business. Now dry your eyes. And, by the way, I need you to cut me eight metres of thecream silk shot with gold. No rush, but you never know when I might need it.’
After Sylvie had gone Nicole sprawled face down on the bed, buried her head in the pillow and chewed the skin round her thumbnail until she tasted blood. Always longing to be a proper French daughter, she’d thought being left out of the family business was bad enough. Now her pain was far more primal than that. Her sister and Mark had been present at a murder. What did that make them? What did it make her to have witnessed it? How could her father slaughter a man as if he was an animal? And as she thought that, a strange feeling scooped out her middle, leaving her hollow. Apart from Lisa, who could she trust?
2
----
MOON IN THE WATER
Late July to October 1952
12
In the days that followed, Nicole avoided both her sister and her father, except for the briefest of interactions. With no idea why Sylvie and her father had been in the cell, she longed to confront them over the murder, but the instinct of self-preservation stopped her and she kept silent, gradually locking it at the back of her mind. In her darkening world, she wondered what might happen to the memory of a thing you’d rather not have seen. Could it be suppressed? Wouldn’t it remain hidden only until the time came when it began to smell, like the rotten thing it was? And what if she had no control? She clasped a hand over her mouth, as if to prevent the truth from spilling, but nothing could prevent it from haunting her dreams.
They seemed puzzled by her behaviour and Sylvie even popped into Nicole’s bedroom early one morning, dressed for work, with a sombre look in her eyes.
‘I
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