A Sister's War by Molly Green (best books to read for self improvement TXT) 📗

it was mainly because Michael had used her full name, and even though he pronounced it with an English accent, Maman would readily forgive him.

For a heart-stopping moment Ronnie thought her mother intended to follow them, but she heard her go upstairs to carry out her toilette. Heaving a sigh of relief she gave Michael a half smile of apology for her mother’s outburst and led the way to the front of the house. Once there she didn’t know whether to stand, or pick one of the easy chairs, or make a bold move to the sofa.

But Michael answered the question on her behalf. No sooner were they inside the room, than he shut the door firmly and swept her into his arms.

‘Am I hurting anything?’ he said, suddenly sounding worried that he might have knocked her hand in his exuberance.

‘No.’

Michael, just kiss me. Like you did before.

He took Ronnie’s chin and tilted her face to his. This time his kiss was even better than before.

Chapter Forty-One

One Saturday morning, 26th August, Ronnie picked up the Daily Telegraph, which the paper boy had just dropped through the letterbox, and glanced at the headlines. Her heart gave a leap of joy as she read:

PARIS LIBERATED AFTER FOUR

YEARS UNDER NAZIS

A small full-length photograph of Charles de Gaulle was placed by the side of the columns, which described the previous few hours. The General’s expression was deadly serious as usual, but Ronnie grinned as she filled the kettle to make her mother a cup of tea. She knew Maman would hold nothing back. It was what her mother had been waiting for all these years since that fateful day in 1940 when the Germans had marched into Paris.

Once the tea was made, she popped a couple of biscuits in the saucer and tucking the newspaper under her arm she knocked softly on the bedroom door.

‘Entre, chérie.’ Simone looked up as Ronnie entered. ‘You have the big smile, Véronique. Is it good news?’

‘The most wonderful news.’ Ronnie placed the newspaper in her mother’s hands and set the cup and saucer on her bedside table.

She watched as Maman quickly scanned the headlines and broke into a beaming smile, then kissed the photograph of de Gaulle.

‘I do not approve of everything you do,’ she directed her one-way conversation to the General, ‘but I know how much this means to you and all French people who dream of this day.’ Simone gazed at Ronnie. ‘This means much to Suzanne now, you understand, chérie. And naturellement, my darling Pierre.’ A shadow crossed her face, and then she brightened. ‘I hope he will soon come to see us but he is still important.’ She shrugged. ‘The war is not over yet. But this is a very good sign, n’est-ce pas?’

‘A very good sign,’ Ronnie said, bending and giving her mother a warm kiss on her cheek.

Simone put her delicate fingers around Ronnie’s face. ‘A perfect heart shape,’ she said. ‘You could wear any hat and look pretty.’

‘No chance on the canals,’ Ronnie said with a chuckle, ‘except a shapeless woollen one I wear day in and day out.’

Simone sighed. ‘You are such a dear child, Véronique. And brave. But I hope you will not go back to those canals now your hand is nearly better. I cannot worry about all my girls in this way. It will make me ill.’

‘Maman, you’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for,’ Ronnie said, meaning it. ‘I wanted to go back as soon as my hand felt better but it’s still quite weak and you have to be really fit to pull your weight when you’re working in such a small team. So I won’t be going anywhere for a few more weeks.’

‘That is good,’ Simone said, her beautiful violet eyes looking unnaturally bright.

‘What is it, Maman?’

‘It means you will be here.’

‘Yes, that’s what I just said.’

‘I mean, in time for the wedding.’ Simone blushed, averting her eyes. After a moment she looked at Ronnie.

‘Raine’s wedding?’ Ronnie stopped short when she saw her mother’s raised eyebrow. ‘Oh, Maman. You mean you and Pierre! So he’s proposed?’

‘Many times over,’ Simone laughed. It was a good sound which Ronnie privately thought she and her sisters didn’t hear often enough. ‘But I told him not until my beloved Paris is liberated and he agreed. It is important we do not waste another moment. We can fix the proper date and inform the church.’

‘Will you be able to get married in church?’ Ronnie asked curiously.

‘Why do you say that? I am a widow.’

‘But isn’t Pierre a Catholic?’

‘Non, he is not,’ Simone said firmly. ‘Dieu merci. That was the problem with my parents. Pierre is from Alsace where there are many Protestants. That is why he has blond hair. It is different in that part of France.’

‘That makes life easier,’ Ronnie said, ‘but you need to give as much notice as possible to Raine and Suzy so they can make arrangements, as it’s difficult for them to get leave with the war still on.’

For once her mother didn’t reprimand her for shortening their names. Ronnie gave an inward smile. Maman had more important things now on her mind.

‘That is true.’ A mischievous light played across Simone’s pretty features. ‘But first I must tell Pierre that this time I will accept his proposal!’

August had slipped into September and the hot weather was still holding. It was wonderful to have both her sisters at home at the same time, Ronnie thought, as she ran up the stairs, Rusty at her heels. She could hear them chatting and laughing together in their old bedroom.

‘Come on, boy,’ Ronnie said, barging into the room with Rusty barking with excitement.

‘Can’t believe you’ve started without me,’ she said. ‘I told you I only had to feed Rusty and I’d be up.’

‘We haven’t said anything of any importance,’ Raine said, giving her a mock cuff. ‘I was just asking Suzy what she was going to wear tomorrow.’

‘That’s exactly what I mean,’ Ronnie said