They hadn't seen her. Probably because she was concealed behind the bushes. Nobody paid attention to the rustling. Michelle found herself retreating into her old ways, sneaking around and listening in. The war had been over for decades but in her mind, there was nothing wrong with being cautious. She had written her memoirs under her codename and only those who knew, knew. Which was everyone by this point. She'd attended Madame Fanny's funeral and had waved goodbye to her chum with the terrible French, Crabtree worked in the civil service now. They wrote to each other regularly. Over the years she had considered moving away but felt reluctant to leave a ghost in her place. And where would she go? This town held all her secrets, all her joys and sorrows. Nouvion was in her soul.
The Germans were back in town. She'd heard on the grapevine that obnoxious von Klinkerhoffen had died in prison some time ago. Herr Flick, who knew? Probably limping free but the world was hardly fair. She was thankful that it was only these two that were visiting. Oh and that bumbling piggy one. Chauffeur's cap or not, she would remember them from anywhere.
She knew about Gruber of course, who hadn't? He was still making eyes at Rene, the fool. And to see him with Helga was hardly jarring. Six children though? That must have taken some effort on their parts. Still, she wished them luck. She supposed that she didn't hate them so much. When René had finally told her of what had really gone on, she was pissed off. That couldn't go in her memoirs. But she had discovered more of a sense of the undertow that had been threatening to pull him under. She'd have to forgive him for that.
Watching the events unfold, she idly wondered if Helga could be persuaded to enclose details of her double life. Out of anyone, Helga at least had had the makings of a good spy. It was a shame that they had been on opposite sides. In another world, they could have been comrades.
It looked like it was all coming to a head. She wondered when Rene and Yvette would stop faffing around and enlighten poor foolish Edith. She was the only one who hadn't known. It looked like the time was right now. She watched with interest as the couple scrambled to the car and drove off…with the original painting of the Madonna with the big boobies! The scoundrels. She nearly fell out of the bushes in shock.
She'd underestimated René, the sly swine.
