But I barely heard her. I straightened up, and let out a breath. I felt strangely relieved. If they were coming only for me, Hélène was safe, the children too.

‘I was right about him all along, I am sure. He has thought about it all, in the light of day, and he knows I tried, despite everything, to keep to my side of things. He is an honourable man. He said we were friends.’

My sister was crying now. ‘Please, Sophie, please don’t do this. You don’t know your own mind. You still have time –’ She tried to block my path, but I pushed past her and began to walk up the stairs.

They were already in the entrance to the bar when I emerged, two of them in uniform. The bar was silent and twenty pairs of eyes landed on me. I could see old René, his hand trembling on the edge of the table, Mesdames Louvier and Durant talking in hushed voices. The mayor was with one of the officers, gesticulating wildly, trying to convince him to change his mind, that there must have been some mistake.

‘It is the orders of the Kommandant,’ the officer said.

‘But she has done nothing! This is a travesty!’

‘Courage, Sophie,’ someone shouted.

I felt as if I were in a dream. Time seemed to slow, the voices fading around me.

One of the officers beckoned me forwards and I stepped outside. The sun’s watery light flooded the square. There were people standing on the street, waiting to see the cause of the commotion in the bar. I stopped for a moment and gazed around me, blinking in the daylight after the gloom of the cellar. Everything seemed suddenly crystalline, redrawn in a finer, brighter image, as if it were imprinting itself on my memory. The priest was standing outside the post office, and he crossed himself when he saw the vehicle they had sent to take me away. It was, I realized, the one that had transported those women to the barracks. That night seemed an age ago.

The mayor was shouting: ‘We will not allow this! I want to register an official complaint! This is the limit! I will not let you take this girl without speaking to the Kommandant first!’

‘These are his orders.’

A small group of older people were beginning to surround the men, as if to form a barrier.

‘You cannot persecute innocent women!’ Madame Louvier was declaiming. ‘You take 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 soldiers watched 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.