Darkest Longings

by Susan Lewis

  ‘I’ll remember. The other thing is, I think Solange should join us too. She has the perfect cover for going about the countryside, she’s always visiting someone or other. And these days she takes Liliane with her in a box Armand attached to her bicycle. Of course, it takes them hours to get anywhere, but the Germans are so used to seeing them, they’ve become a sort of local attraction. And they look so funny that no one would suspect them of anything but eccentricity!’

  Lucien was grinning widely as he pictured the spectacle.

  ‘And,’ Claudine went on, ‘I hate keeping this from her. She’s so worried about you, and I think she should know that at least one of her sons is alive.’

  ‘All right,’ he said, relenting. ‘But don’t tell her until I’m back from England. Then I’ll work out a way to see her myself. I take it there’s still no news from François?’

  Claudine shook her head, and feeling a sudden and unexpected rush of tears she had turned quickly to her bicycle and started to pedal away …

  Now, as she lay in the comfort and safety of her bed, the dreaded tears started to roll down her cheeks. But again she pushed François from her mind, making a mental note to go and see Gertrude Reinberg in the morning, to find out how she was getting on with the overalls and berets which were the uniform of French farm labourers, but were being made for escaping prisoners and pilots …

  She had no idea what time it was when the noise woke her but she knew it couldn’t yet be dawn because the room was still in darkness. She was lying on her side, and though her first instinct was to reach out for the light, she stopped herself and listened, praying that it had been nothing more than the wind outside. But there was a cold air in the room as though someone had left the door open, then she heard the curtains rustle in the breeze, and the door clicked quietly closed.

  Blind terror galloped through her brain. Her hand moved silently to her pillow, and as her fingers searched for the gun she heard the intruder take a breath. He moved about for some time; then, she suddenly realized, he was standing right beside the bed. The gun! she panicked. Where was the gun? Then she remembered she had turned over, it would be behind her head. Oh, dear God, help me, she prayed. Then, bracing herself, she jerked herself up in the bed, jabbed her hand under the pillow and opened her mouth to scream. But before the breath could leave her body, a hand closed over her mouth and she was being pushed back against the pillows. She tried to wrench her hand free because she now had the gun, but his body was pressing down on her and she couldn’t move. He gave a low chuckle, then his hand moved from her mouth and his lips were there.

  ‘François!’ she whispered.

  ‘Qui, chérie. C’est moi.’

  ‘Oh François,’ she gasped, and throwing her arms around him she kissed him savagely. But then she was angry, and pushing him away, she said, ‘You frightened me half to death! I could have killed you! What are you doing here? Where have you been? Oh, my darling, hold me.’

  Laughing softly, he took her back into his arms and pulled her against him. His lips were almost touching hers as he said, ‘How are you, chérie? Have you missed me?’

  She couldn’t speak as the fear and the longing she had bottled up for so long were suddenly unleashed in huge, racking sobs. ‘Oh, François,’ she choked. ‘Tell me you’re all right. Tell me everything is all right now. I was so afraid for you. I didn’t know where you were. No one knew. Let me turn on the light. Let me look at you.’ But as she made to reach across him, he pulled her back.

  ‘Not yet,’ he whispered. ‘I just want to lie here in the dark and hold you, touch you, breathe you, the way I’ve wanted to for over a year. Take off your nightdress, let me feel you next to me.’

  It was only then that she realized he was completely naked, and sitting up, she pulled her nightdress over her head so she would be too. She was still a little dazed, and part of her was wondering if this was only a dream, but as his hands closed over her breasts she no longer cared whether it was or not.

  She had never known herself capable of such passion as she showed then, but just like her fear, her desire had been bottled up too, and as it took hold of her she pressed his hands against her breasts, searched for his lips and buried her tongue deep inside his mouth. Then she was pulling him on top of her, her hands on his buttocks, on his thighs, pushing between his legs and taking him in a firm, demanding grip. A groan escaped her as she felt the size of him, and she writhed madly beneath him. As he pushed his fingers hard into her, she tore his hair, bit his face and begged him to take her now.

  ‘I can feel you,’ she moaned. ‘I can feel you filling me and filling me and oh … Oh!’ Her scream was drowned by his kiss, and as her legs gripped his waist he pushed his hands beneath her and lifted her to meet his thrusts. And then he was so deep inside her that waves of ecstasy broke through her body and she began to sob and whimper and cry into his open mouth.

  ‘Hold back,’ he groaned. ‘Hold back …’

  ‘I can’t. Oh, François!’

  ‘Tell me you love me,’ he panted, throwing his full weight behind the pounding of his hips.

  ‘Je t’aime!’ she cried. But the words were strangled in her throat as she started to shudder and convulse. He pushed her legs up to his shoulders and drove even deeper inside her, and then he was there with her, releasing his seed into the demanding pressure of her climax.

  He fell over her, letting her legs go and feeling them slide down his back and over his thighs. Her arms lay limply across the sheets and her heart thudded loudly against his.

  ‘I love you, Claudine,’ he murmured, a long time later. ‘I love you, but if you make me do that again tonight …’

  She giggled, and turned her face to kiss him.

  Gently he eased himself out of her and rolled onto his back, lifting his arm for her to rest on his shoulder. ‘I had envisaged a more tender reunion,’ he whispered. ‘I knew it would be madness to think we might talk before we made love, but … Jesus Christ, Claudine what got into you?’

  ‘I was afraid,’ she laughed. ‘Afraid that you were only a dream and I had to have you then before you disappeared. You’re not going to, are you?’

  Putting his fingers under her chin, he lifted her mouth and kissed her. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I’m here to stay. At least, for a while. But I won’t make my return for a few days yet.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that the need to see you was so great that I managed to shake off the man who was following me when we reached the outskirts of Paris, and then I drove straight here. I’m not scheduled to arrive until the weekend. The Abwehr are expecting me to report to their headquarters in Paris first thing tomorrow.’

  ‘Are you going to?’

  ‘No. I’m staying here to have a brief honeymoon with my wife.’

  ‘Is that wise?’ she said, pushing her body closer to his.

  ‘Probably not. But I’ll think up some reason for my mysterious three-day absence, and in the meantime I can make love to you and you can tell me everything that’s been happening while I’ve been away. Incidentally, have you seen Erich?’

  ‘Not for months. When he came he said he didn’t know where you were …’

  ‘That’s strange,’ François interrupted. ‘I was expecting him to meet me at the border, but he wasn’t there. Does Corinne know where he is?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘I’ll talk to her in the morning. Now, how are we going to find a way to be together for three days without raising anyone’s suspicions?’

  ‘You can stay right here,’ Claudine answered. ‘The only person who goes into your room is me, to clean it, and Louis for a shave …’

  ‘A what!’

  ‘I’ll explain later. But you can stay in the warmth and comfort of your own room, and I shall feed you your meals and we can talk and … François, what’s this on your arm?’ She moved her fingers. ‘And here, and here.’

  ‘That’s something I’ll explain later,’ he sai
d, wrapping her in his arms and yawning.

  ‘No! What is it?’ she said, sitting up and reaching out for the lamp.

  ‘Please, chérie,’ he said, trying to pull her back. ‘Not now.’ She already had her finger on the switch, but as she pressed it, to his eternal relief, it was only to find that the power was off.

  There was a long silence, then quietly she said, ‘They tortured you, didn’t they?’

  He put his hands into the darkness to find her, but as he tried to pull her back into his arms, she resisted. ‘What did they do to you?’ she said.

  He sat up too, and this time as he pulled her head onto his shoulder, she let him.

  ‘It doesn’t matter now,’ he whispered. ‘The wounds are healing.’

  ‘Do you know why they were torturing you?’ she asked, dreading that Blomberg had betrayed her, so that all she had submitted herself to was for nothing.

  ‘Yes.’ And in his deep, beloved voice he told her.

  She couldn’t feel relieved. The thought that he had undergone such pain was terrible.

  ‘You’re still weak,’ she said. ‘I can tell.’

  ‘Yes, a little.’

  ‘Then let me hold you while you sleep.’

  They lay down again, and it wasn’t long before she heard the steady rhythm of his breathing.

  ‘Are you asleep?’ she whispered, and when there was no answer she pressed herself closer against him and kissed his cheek. ‘I love you, my darling,’ she murmured, and closed her eyes.

  ‘I love you too,’ he said.

  The next morning started with a heated argument. One look at François’ scars was enough to convince Claudine that he must see a doctor, but he was adamant that he wouldn’t. He had spent the last three months with doctors, he said, and that was quite enough; and though she shouted, wheedled, cried and even slapped him, he still wouldn’t give in. In the end she told him she hoped he was suffering as he deserved to after all he had put her through. He roared with laughter at that, and it was just as well they were in the shower at the time or Magaly, who was just letting herself into the sitting-room, might have heard.

  Half an hour later, François was in his own room talking to Corinne while Claudine went down to prepare their breakfast. Fortunately Arlette was too busy to notice how much bread she was taking, but later poor Jean-Paul was accused of stealing other people’s rations.

  ‘I was wondering,’ Claudine said, as she fed François with her fingers, then kissed him before he had a chance to swallow, ‘how you managed to drive through the night without being stopped.’

  ‘I was stopped,’ he told her, grimacing as she slid her hand inside his dressing-gown and started to caress his thighs. ‘Several times, in fact. But as you haven’t yet seen the clothes I arrived in … If you keep that up, woman, you’ll end up flat on your back.’

  ‘What were you wearing?’ she said, grinning.

  ‘A uniform. A German uniform. I am, remember, an officer of the Abwehr.’

  She pulled a face, then laughed as he turned in his chair, picked her up and sat her astride him. He ran his hands under her skirt and up over her thighs, then raised his brows as he discovered she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  ‘Was Corinne able to tell you anything about Erich?’ she said, taking his penis and beginning to stroke herself with it.

  ‘No,’ he answered, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. ‘I’m afraid we won’t be able to have that honeymoon after all. I shall have to go to Paris and find out where he is.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Today,’ he said, smiling as her breathing started to quicken.

  ‘But not yet.’

  ‘Not quite yet,’ he answered, lifting her skirt to watch what she was doing. But as she wriggled forward to take him into her, he pushed her back, lifted her from his lap and walked to the door.

  ‘François!’ she declared, then relaxed as she saw him lock it.

  ‘Do you realize,’ he said, taking off his dressing-gown, ‘that I am a forty-year-old man?’

  ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

  ‘Only that I’m wondering if I have the stamina to satisfy an insatiable wife.’

  ‘Then why don’t you lie down and let your insatiable wife satisfy you?’

  As it turned out he stayed all day, and Claudine, pleading a headache, pulled the curtains and locked all the doors. She bathed and kissed the angry scars on his body, and told him all she had been doing while he was away, right up to the meeting she had had with Lucien and the other Résistants the night before. His relief at hearing that Lucien was still alive was evident, but when she offered to try and get word to him to tell him to come to the Château, François said no.

  ‘I’ll be back on Saturday,’ he said, ‘and as far as I know I shall be staying for some time. I’ll see him then. Has there been any sign of Halunke?’

  ‘Not since Erich was last here.’ She turned to look at him, suddenly alarmed. It had never occurred to her until that moment that Erich’s absence might have something to do with Halunke. It was clear from the look on François’ face that the same thought was going through his mind.

  ‘Do you think Erich has found him?’ she said, getting up from the bed.

  François got up too, and she saw the harsh look that had come into his eyes. ‘I’m going to get dressed,’ he said, starting towards her bedroom, ‘If I leave now I should be in Paris before midnight. In the meantime, you can stop this going out alone after curfew.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘I said it must stop!’ he barked.

  ‘I’ve got a gun,’ she reminded him, walking into her room after him.

  ‘I don’t care.’ He pulled open the door to her dressing-room and took down his uniform, ‘I know how headstrong, determined and downright stubborn you can be, but in this instance, Claudine, you will do as I say. It may well have seemed that Halunke had disappeared while I was away, but I’m back now, and you can be damned sure he is too. Or soon will be.’ Then he saw the look on her face, and laughed. ‘Don’t you like my uniform?’

  ‘It’s horrifying,’ she answered, going to put her arms around him. ‘But I am not one of your junior officers, so stop ordering me about. When will you be back?’

  ‘On Saturday. And you’d better prepare yourself, because I shall drive up to the front of the house in the jeep the Abwehr have so obligingly given me, and I shall be wearing this uniform. You will of course be horrified and digusted.’ He unwound her arms and stooped to pull his boots from under the bed. ‘Incidentally,’ he said, ‘do you have a Colonel Blomberg staying here?’

  ‘Yes.’ Claudine shivered, but as she started to turn away he pulled her back.

  His black eyes were gleaming horribly as he stared down into hers. ‘He made certain threats before he left Germany,’ he said carefully, ‘I trust he hasn’t carried them out.’

  ‘What threats?’ Claudine asked innocently.

  ‘Concerning you.’

  She shrugged. ‘Well, as you can see I’m all in one piece.’

  ‘I can see that very clearly,’ he remarked, not without irony as he ran his eyes over her nudity. ‘But if he approaches you, if he as much as …’

  ‘François, why don’t you let me help you on with your boots?’ she said, and pushing him onto the bed she knelt at his feet in much the same way as she had knelt at Blomberg’s. It had a different feeling altogether when it was her husband watching her, and as she looked up at his sinister face she ran her hands over his legs. The corner of his mouth dropped as his eyes narrowed – but then she remembered that it was already dark outside, he had a long drive ahead of him, and he still wasn’t fully recovered from the injuries inflicted by the Abwehr. So letting him go, she stood up, gave him a lingering kiss on the mouth and walked with him to the door.

  ‘Bonne chance,’ she said, as he let himself out onto the bridge. Then she heard Corinne coming up the stairs with Louis, and ran back into her room to weep with joy – and frustrati
on that he had gone again so soon.

  As he had promised, François was back again by the weekend. He came to the front of the Château in a jeep plastered with swastikas and wearing his commandant’s uniform. It was the middle of the afternoon and Claudine was dusting the books in the library with Magaly. Hearing the commotion in the hall, they both went to see what was happening, and found Solange so beside herself with joy that she had rubbed black lead polish all over her face and hair. Monique was racing down the stairs, and as Claudine watched François embrace her she made a mental note to tell him about the business with Lucien. Tante Céline came out of the kitchens then, her hands covered in flour, and Claudine had to turn away when she saw the look of horror on her face as she took in François’ uniform. But she greeted him politely enough, and Claudine was perfectly composed by the time he turned to her. At least, she thought she was, but he looked so fierce, so horribly sinister yet somehow so devastatingly attractive in his uniform, that she found her knees were trembling.

  He saw her reaction, and a flash of humour sparked in his eyes. Then suddenly she was so close to laughing herself that they had to turn abruptly away from one another. François started speaking to Blomberg, who had come in with him. ‘It is obvious that my wife is less than overwhelmed by my return,’ he said, in a voice heavy with sarcasm. ‘Never mind. If you’ll excuse me, Fritz, I’ll go and see my son.’ And putting an arm round each of their shoulders, he drew his mother and his sister up the stairs with him to the nursery.

  Blomberg, Claudine noticed, seemed nervous, and could not meet her eyes. Had she known it, he was remembering the words of one of his fellow-officers. ‘I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes, Fritz, if de Lorvoire ever found out how you’ve been humiliating his wife.’ The problem was, knowing that the fun would have to stop now made Blomberg want it all the more. He watched Claudine walk away, tossing her head at him as she went, and swore to himself that he would have the bitch yet.

  An hour later, François came down from the nursery alone and went outside. Soon afterwards Corinne and Louis came into the library, and Corinne whispered to Claudine that François wanted to see her in half an hour.