When she’d gone, one of my father’s young hunting hounds, Demeter, brindled and blue-eyed, slunk in and curled up beside me on the straw, his bony frame warm and comforting. I fed him the food from the tray while I poured the wine down my own throat straight from the bottle.

Enough, André. Enough, I tell you.

*

The moment Cosette finally fell into a deep sleep, I eased Demeter’s head off my lap and I slunk out as silently as the dog had slunk in. I reached the house and hurried up the stairs, my fingers still wrapped around the neck of the wine bottle. It was half empty now, but I’d saved the rest for André. He’d need it.

Mon Dieu, he’d need it.

I walked into his bedroom without knocking. Instantly a gun was in my face.

In my face.

‘Nice welcome,’ I said.

‘You fool. You could have been . . .’

He flicked the safety on the gun, tucked it into his waistband and slumped his back against the wall, but I didn’t let him escape so easily. I placed the wine bottle on the floor and stepped up close to my brother. I grabbed two handfuls of the front of his shirt, and I shook him. I shook him and I shook him. Thumping him against the wall till there must have been no breath left in his lungs.

He didn’t try to stop me.

When I was finally done, I released his shirt and wiped my palms on my trousers as if there was something bad on them. There was fierce colour in André’s cheeks and his gaze was sharp, but he said nothing. He knew I hadn’t finished.

‘Tell me, André. Tell me right now.’ I tried to keep my voice low, but it came out bitter and angry. ‘I will not tolerate your silence any longer. Who will be next on the death list? Me? You?’ I swallowed hard. ‘Papa?’

‘Don’t, Eloïse. Don’t. You know I can say nothing. Don’t ask.’

I hated the calmness in his voice, the control.

‘I am asking, André. And I want an answer or I will walk straight to those policemen down there in the yard and tell them everything I know about you and who you work for.’

‘No.’

‘Yes. I will do it, André. Believe me.’

‘If you do, you will be signing my death warrant.’

‘The choice is yours.’

So harsh. So unforgiving. It frightened me.