‘Why?’ he asked in horror.
‘He tried to … He had hold of me … He was going to …’
He muttered something quietly in German. He had turned white. ‘And … did he?’ Stefan asked. ‘Did he hurt you?’
‘Yes, but not like that.’
Stefan was still, his teeth clenched together, his jaw firm. ‘I must think.’
‘Will you take me to hand myself in?’ she whispered, her voice failing her. ‘I can’t have anyone else blamed for this.’
His eyebrows lifted. ‘What?’ he asked. ‘Where do you want me to take you?’
‘To the Gestapo. To the Feldkommandantur. I don’t know. Somewhere.’
‘No,’ he almost shouted. ‘Absolutely not. I need to think.’ He wiped his hand across his eyes as Persey stood still in the hallway looking calmer than she felt.
‘Did anyone see you?’ Stefan asked.
‘No,’ she said.
‘Are you sure? Where was this?’
‘On the cliffs by Les Sommeilleuses. Can you fetch me some paper?’ she asked suddenly. ‘I don’t want to smear the carpet with blood.’
‘What?’ he asked again. ‘Paper? What the hell do you need paper for?’
‘I need to write something. I need to say goodbye to Dido. And to Jack. I need him to take care of her for me. She’ll be left alone now.’ She spoke absently. Her voice blank, flat, devoid of emotion.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I am not going to do that. You are not going to do that. I am going to help you.’
She looked at him and blinked. ‘Are you going to bring a man back to life?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m going to move his body. If no one saw you and if he has not been found yet, I still have time. Where is he?’
‘Oh, Stefan,’ she said. She reached out to touch his face, but her hands were tainted with the soldier’s blood and she couldn’t stain him with what she’d done.
‘Where exactly is he?’ Stefan roared, taking her by her shoulders and shaking her quickly, bringing her to her senses.
‘He’s behind one of the large rocks. I didn’t hide him,’ she was quick to point out. ‘It’s where he dragged me to …’
‘Wait here,’ he said. ‘No. Don’t wait here. Go upstairs. Go to the bathroom. Clean the blood from you. Burn your clothes. They cannot be saved. Do not tell anyone what happened. Do you understand?’
She stared at him, her mouth open, but she couldn’t think of anything to say.
‘Do it now,’ he shouted at her and she blinked, slipped off hershoes, picked them up and carried them upstairs towards the bathroom. Behind her came the sound of the front door being slammed in haste as Stefan left to find the dead soldier.
Persey ran the bath, watching the water absently run far in excess of what was deemed necessary in times of war. There wasn’t enough water in the world to clean her of what she had done. But, under orders, she stripped, leaving the bloodstained clothes on the floor. She found the last of the soap nestled in the dish and scrubbed her body until it was red raw from both the heat of the water and from her ferocious scrubbing. She soaked her hair and watched as the water around her took on a red tinge and she could stand being in the discoloured water no longer.
When she was dry and dressed, she let her hair hang wet, dripping water down her back and soaking her clothes as she moved slowly, unseeing, unthinking. She scooped up her bloodstained clothes and the shorthand notes from the bathroom floor and step by step descended the staircase towards the sitting room, lighting a fire and watching as the kindling took, followed by the wood in the grate, branches broken from the garden trees. She dropped her bloodstained stockings in first, watching them spark and singe to nothing, and then dropped each of her garments on to the fire one by one, taking care to feed the fire gently so as not to douse the flames. The smell of burning cloth became repugnant.
She dropped the notes into the fire. She would not take them to Doctor Durand now. She sat on the floor and watched the flames take all evidence of her actions and then when no trace of the fabric or notes remained, she put her head in her hands and cried.
‘Wake up,’ Jack said as she shook her a while later. Persey opened her eyes. She must have fallen asleep in front of the fire; she had no idea how long she’d been there.
‘I thought you were at work?’ she said, blinking. Then the horrorof what had happened caught up with her sleepiness and she tried not to throw up the remains of her breakfast.
‘Oh good, you’re all right,’ Jack said in a bored voice. ‘Thought you’d died you were in the strangest position. I’ve been to work,’ Jack said, answering her question. ‘I’ve come back.’
