The Paris Affair

37 Julia

37

Julia

August, 2002 – Paris

The sorrow of Lotte’s plight stayed with Christoph. Julia held his hand as he told his memory of that day in the apartment, tears streaming down his face.

‘Who were they to decide whose lives were useful or not?’ he cried. ‘Lotte had her own gifts, different to others, but valid nonetheless. In the brutal world of the Nazis, no one credited her talents.’

‘Perhaps Lotte survived. There might be some way to find out.’ Lisette didn’t want Christoph to fall into despair. The news about Sylvie’s death was now compounded with the tragedy of Lotte’s removal.

‘We have to,’ Christoph said. ‘I need to know. She shouldn’t have been taken, Julia. The Nazis were monsters.’ He pushed away the remains of the artichoke and closed his eyes. ‘Is it awful that I should have experienced such happiness with Sylvie when Lotte had been taken?’

‘You’d found love,’ Julia said. ‘Who could blame you? The apartment must have been a special place.’

‘It was,’ Christoph said. ‘There was nothing remarkable about it. But being there with Sylvie made it magical.’

‘Can you remember where it was?’

Christoph shook his head. ‘It looked just like any other stone building. I don’t think it was far from Le Meurice, though, just a few streets away.’ He thought for a moment. ‘I do remember a pair of dragons carved in the stonework above the door.’

‘That might help,’ Julia said. But it was difficult to know where to start looking.

‘Show me the label again,’ Christoph said. He stared at the drawing of the crook. Then his eyes widened.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘She drew it on to remind me of the name of the street. It’s a shepherdess’s crook. Rue Pastourelle. I joked that I’d follow her wherever she led me.’

‘That must be it!’ Julia exclaimed. She jotted the name down in her notebook. ‘I’ll have a look for it in that guidebook.’

‘You have such faith, Julia, but I’m losing hope.’ His eyes filled with tears. ‘If she died, and I survived, then I didn’t follow her, did I? And I’ve let Daniel down too. I should have told him about the recipe book, and why we’d come to Paris. If I had, we might have been doing this search together. He might have understood.’

Julia didn’t know how to reply. The relationship between Christoph and Daniel was more complicated than she’d imagined. If Daniel wanted to engage with Christoph’s search for his past, then it was up to him to step forward. Julia tucked the key in her pocket. She needed to find the apartment.

While Christoph slept, Julia went to the hospital café to consult the map at the back of the Paris guidebook. She bought a cup of coffee and looked up rue Pastourelle. Her finger traced the grid reference. There it was: about forty minutes’ walk from Le Meurice. Might the apartment still be there?

Julia looked up. Daniel was striding towards her, a determined look on his face. Julia closed the map and gathered up her notebook. Her heart raced: she was in no mood for his negativity about Christoph’s memories. She stood up, ready to leave.

‘Wait, Julia,’ Daniel said. ‘I’m here to apologize.’

Julia hooked her bag on her shoulder. ‘I’ve nothing more to say to you. Christoph remembered where the apartment was, and I’m going there.’

He gestured to the chair. ‘Please, just hear me out.’

Julia sat down, a sceptical look on her face. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I’ve walked miles along the river, trying to imagine what Paris was like when Christoph was here. The Nazi flags, the military vehicles, the barricades, and checkpoints. He was part of a terrible force that took over the city and eliminated its freedoms, even its identity.’

‘And?’ she said impatiently.

‘Yet, in amongst all this, some woman called Sylvie, a Frenchwoman, came to care for him so much that she gave him that book of recipes with a dedication that suggests their relationship was more than just friendship.’ Daniel shook his head. ‘In spite of everything that was happening to Paris, Sylvie must have seen something in Papa that made her like him, made her love him even. Regardless of which sides of the war they stood on.’

Julia felt a tremor of hope. Was Daniel starting to understand at last?

Daniel leaned forward. ‘You were right, Julia. This is Papa’s story, not mine, or Mama’s. I’ve been trying to control what comes out of the past, but I can’t. It is extraordinary to think Papa and Sylvie found love despite what was happening around them. I shouldn’t feel threatened by what happened between them. It was long before my parents were married, or I was born.’

‘Exactly,’ Julia said, so relieved to hear his words. ‘It doesn’t change your parents’ marriage or your childhood. Sylvie’s from the past. I think remembering her is a way for Christoph to remember himself.’

Daniel reached out for Julia’s hand. His skin was warm and his touch awakened a familiar ache inside. ‘I want to help Papa with exploring the recipes. I’m sorry I didn’t understand before.’

Julia smiled. ‘He’ll be so glad. You’re a part of this too.’

‘I’ve checked us out of Le Meurice. Our suitcases are in the car. There’s nothing to stop us going to the apartment right now,’ Daniel said. ‘Let’s do this search together.’

Hope inflamed her heart. ‘Are you sure?’ she said.

A rare, unguarded smile caught his eyes. For a moment, he looked just like he had at the station in Bonn. Julia realized this wasn’t just about Christoph and Sylvie. It was about her and Daniel: moving on from those events six years ago.

‘I’m sure,’ he said.