“She was a fine woman, Daniel.”
“A fine soldier, you mean.”
“That too.”
We toasted her memory and I went to bed.
The morning was still warm but clouds scudded across the blue backcloth heralding rain. Gregor came for me at a decent hour after breakfast. I had him stop once in the market on our way. We drove up to the gates on the edge of town. Long lines of poplars swayed behind the low walls. We pushed the gates open and walked down the gravel path past the great slabs and the stone angels.
It was in a quiet corner of the grounds. The grass was neatly trimmed and a few more stones had been stood next to hers, with newer dates. Gregor left me alone and walked away and lit a cigarette.
I stood, trying to remember her as she was before I found her. Tried to find a way of seeing her smile. Tried to wipe the last image of horror from her young face.
I laid the flowers on her grave. Brave yellow daffodils. I stood and read the inscription.
To “Lili”
A soldier of France
Who died for her country
In memory of
Valerie le Brun
1920 – 1944
Rest in peace, Val. Rest in peace.