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Back Dangerous Remedy
Chapters (86)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. Contents
  7. Paris, June 1794
  8. PART ONE
  9. 1
  10. 2
  11. 3
  12. 4
  13. 5
  14. 6
  15. 7
  16. PART TWO
  17. 1
  18. 2
  19. 3
  20. 4
  21. 5
  22. 6
  23. 7
  24. 8
  25. 9
  26. 10
  27. 11
  28. 12
  29. PART THREE
  30. 1
  31. 2
  32. 3
  33. 4
  34. 5
  35. 6
  36. 7
  37. 8
  38. 9
  39. 10
  40. 11
  41. 12
  42. 13
  43. 14
  44. 15
  45. 16
  46. 17
  47. PART FOUR
  48. 1
  49. 2
  50. 3
  51. 4
  52. 5
  53. 6
  54. 7
  55. 8
  56. 9
  57. 10
  58. 11
  59. PART FIVE
  60. 1
  61. 2
  62. 3
  63. 4
  64. 5
  65. 6
  66. 7
  67. PART SIX
  68. 1
  69. 2
  70. 3
  71. 4
  72. 5
  73. 6
  74. 7
  75. 8
  76. 9
  77. 10
  78. 11
  79. 12
  80. 13
  81. 14
  82. Postscript
  83. A Ship in Le Havre Port
  84. Acknowledgements
  85. About the Author
  86. About Zephyr

‘I – I’m going to keep my promise. I swear. I won’t let either side get you.’

They were out of time. The fate of the Revolution, of France itself, hung on her decision. She was so far out into that vast sea, she had no idea which way led back to land.

Her father wouldn’t hesitate. So she would make the choice too, even if it meant everyone would hate her.

‘Do you trust me?’

Olympe nodded. ‘I trust you.’

She twisted a loose curl of Olympe’s hair around her finger and pulled it tight.

‘Then we finish this at the festival. Tomorrow.’

PART FIVE

Even Good Swimmers Drown in the End

1

Place de la Révolution

20 Prairial Year II, the deadline

A crisp, chill sky sprawled over the guillotine in the middle of the square. Across the river, the model mountain for the Festival of the Supreme Being rose in carved tiers with real grass and moss spread over its contours, leaving a winding path to the summit exposed. Al stood next to Ada, hands tucked into his sleeves. He was hungover, but he’d moved swiftly that morning, dressing and refusing the coffee in the pot.

A solitary tumbril was being led to the guillotine; a crowd had gathered in anticipation of the later festivities. It was a day of celebration, but Revolutionary execution duties still needed to be carried out. They had crept out early, long before anyone else was awake, and waited in the rawness of the morning for the prisoners to arrive. Four men were already on the dais, one hauling the rope to lift the blade, one ready with a basket to catch heads, and another with a pike to lift them for the crowd to see. A fourth stood by the stairs, watching as the cart rumbled towards them, its standing prisoners huddled close.

There were only a handful due to die today. A tall man with Al’s fair hair and a woman next to him with Al’s pointed chin. Then two more young men, echoes of their parents, and Al beside her. Ada grasped Al’s hand tightly. He didn’t shake her off.

Someone read out the charges, but they were too far away to hear. Al’s father was led up to the guillotine first. He went without protest, chin held high, a sneer curling his lip. He kneeled without being told, but the executioner had to put a hand on his shoulder to manoeuvre his neck into the headlock. The top was lowered and secured. Ada had always thought the position looked uncomfortable. Leaning so far forwards, while trying to keep your weight on your knees and off your throat. She could feel the ache in her lower back just imagining it.