Alone in her room she considered her options and found they were very few. She was only sixty but she knew it would be difficult to find another place. No one would want to employ an elderly woman who might become infirm, when they could get someone so much younger with years of work left in her. Who could she turn to? Briefly she thought of Madame Rosalie St Clair.

Agathe had taken care of Hélène St Clair, Madame Rosalie’s daughter, when, at the age of eleven, she’d been lost and alone in the city during the Communard siege. When the fighting was over and Hélène had been reunited with her parents, Madame St Clair had come to visit Agathe at the Clergy House, bringing Hélène with her. She had wanted to thank Agathe and Father Lenoir for taking her daughter in off the streets. She had been deeply grateful and the two women had got on well, speaking as equals. Agathe had seen Hélène once or twice more when the family was in Paris, but that had been in the early days. Since then she had seen neither mother nor daughter for several years. Would the gratitude so sincerely expressed then still be as strong now? Could she approach them for help after all this time? Turn up out of the blue and expect their gratitude to become practical assistance? No. It would be asking for charity; Agathe Sauze would ask that of no one and she dismissed the option from her mind.

Another possibility was to ask for work from the bishop. Not from the man himself, of course, he was far too exalted to deal with such mundane matters, but perhaps one of his chaplains would know of a parish priest who needed a housekeeper. It was something she had done all her life and there seemed little else she could do. Eventually, as the two weeks were closing in on her, she steeled herself and made the approach to the bishop’s office.

She was greeted with a blank stare from the young priest who had been sent to find out what she wanted.

‘Madame,’ he said dismissively, ‘if your own priest has dispensed with your services, he must have good reason. I’m afraid it is not something the bishop or this office can concern itself with. You must look for charity elsewhere.’

‘I am not looking for charity, Monsieur l’Abbé,’ she replied sharply, ‘I am looking for work and was simply asking if you knew of a parish priest in need of a housekeeper. Clearly you do not!’ As the young priest blinked in astonishment at her riposte, she turned on her heel and, with a ramrod straight back, walked to the door before saying, ‘I’ll bid you good afternoon… Father!’

With that avenue closed to her Agathe finally turned her thoughts to the only other possibility. She had told Father Thomas that she had nowhere to go, and in reality that was true, but her thoughts now turned unwillingly to her elder sister, Fleur. She and Fleur had never been close. As children they had continually quarrelled; as young women they had disagreed on almost everything; and when Fleur had decided to marry Yves Bastien, Agathe had disliked him on sight and had tried to make her change her mind. This was the final straw for Fleur. She was the elder and wasn’t prepared to listen to any advice about her choice of husband from her younger sister.