Her mind went back to harvest time, a year ago when Henri and Micheline had been cutting hay in the orchard. Georges had already been taken off to Germany and Roger had disappeared into the forest, so they all had to do more work on the farm. She and Sabine had carried some water down to them at the end of the afternoon, the terriers accompanying them. Only a small rectangle of standing grass remained in the middle of the field, which they would finish before long, then drink the water thirstily and climb back towards the house with the children carrying their scythes.

As Henri and Micheline turned and moved back towards them, three rabbits burst out of their last refuge, running haphazardly in different directions. The terriers, yelping ecstatically, pursued them, Sabine shouting encouragement and praise. Suzie had watched one rabbit racing along a stubble track between two long swathes of drying grass. At the edge of the field it doubled back, straight into the dogs. Boys with their ringlets flying, pursued by the lieutenant in his tank, his hunting cries mingling with Sabine’s; the major watching Madame Ariane, recognising a hidden Jew by his special power. She had shrieked in horror as the terrier in the lead seized the rabbit in its jaws and broke its neck.

Henri, who had stopped to watch the chase, looked at her kindly. ‘Don’t fret,’ he said. ‘It’s their nature.’

Would Henri, in his generosity, forgive the lieutenant, who was savage by nature? She turned onto her stomach and put her forehead onto her hands to think more of the problem of Madame Ariane and the major. Had Madame Ariane gone over to the Germans? This was not credible, but in a world in which the impossible happened all the time, in which parents disappeared and men in tanks hunted children, people betrayed their natures. Perhaps she was giving information as a trick, to trap the major in some way. Suzie liked this idea, but could not think how it could work, nor what purpose it would serve. Another worry presented itself: Madame Ariane could be attacked by her own side as a collaborator. Suzie had heard of such killings, of bodies found on lonely roads with notes pinned to their chests. Here lies X, collabo. Until now, she had felt a sense of justice fulfilled when she had heard Micheline tell of such executions. But how did the executioners know who was a collaborator? Perhaps they made mistakes.

She thought again of Madame Ariane stopping before she opened the door to the house and saying, ‘Be careful …’

She had betrayed the Maquis to the major, but she had been forced, she had been afraid.

Yet there had been no need for her to tell him to be careful.

Suzie screwed her eyelids tight to cancel out the memory. She knew what had happened to Madame Ariane. Madame Ariane had done what she herself had done in revealing her secret to Sabine; she had voluntarily surrendered to the enemy, admitting its power. Suzie vowed that she would remain loyal to Madame Ariane, whatever happened. She was Maman’s friend; her father was a friend of Omi and Opa, a long time ago; she was her last refuge.