‘Thank you, Monsieur l’Abbé.’ She spoke with downcast eyes and waited until she heard the front door close behind him before she heaved a sigh of relief and went up to her attic bedroom, where she lit her candle and closed her door. It was cold in the room and she undressed quickly, putting on her nightgown and wrapping her blanket round her as she sat up in bed to read a news sheet she had picked up off the street on her way to the market. Sometime later she heard the front door bang and after a moment Father Thomas’s heavy tread as he made his way upstairs. To her dismay he did not stop on the first floor, where he had taken over Father Lenoir’s bedroom, but continued up the steep stairs that led to the attics. Hurriedly Annette blew out her candle and, turning her back to the door, curled up in her blanket as if already asleep. She waited with bated breath as she heard the footsteps stop outside her door. There was a long pause and then she heard the handle turn and the door creak open. With thumping heart she tried to keep her breathing even, as if she were sleeping and had no idea that he was standing in the doorway. For a long moment he stood, and then, turning on his heel, he closed the door and went back down the stairs.

Annette found she was shaking and drew deep breaths to calm herself, but believing she had been reprieved, she felt her heartrate slacken and she closed her eyes and prepared to fall asleep.

It was as she dozed off that she heard the footsteps on the stairs again and this time they did not pause in the doorway, but with a lamp in his hand Father Thomas marched across the room and stripped back the covers. For a moment he stared down at her, his eyes lascivious as he saw the fear in hers. Without a word he set the lamp on the floor and reached for her nightgown. Instinctively she curled up, clinging to the nightdress, trying to retrieve the blanket, but he slapped her hard across the cheek. As he did so, the gown he was wearing fell open and Annette could see that he wore nothing beneath it. Annette cried out and was rewarded with a further slap before he flopped down on top of her and began to squirm across her body, grunting as he did so. Annette tried to push him off, but he was too heavy.

‘Lie still, bitch,’ he growled. ‘You’ve had this coming for a long time!’ But Annette did not lie still, she fought him every inch of the way. Her resistance seemed to inflame him more and he held her down as he forced himself inside her. His attack seemed to go on for ever, but when at last he had finished, he rolled off her and, wiping himself on her sheet, sat up on the edge of the bed, looking down at her.