I am delighted to be bringing you an excerpt from this gorgeous book, The Secret Pianist by Andie Newton. But first, a little about the book.
The Blurb
Sisters. Traitors. Spies.
When a British RAF Whitley plane comes under fire over the French coast and is forced to drop their cargo, a spy messenger pigeon finds its way into unlikely hands…
The occupation has taken much from the Cotillard sisters, and as the Germans increase their forces in the seaside town of Boulogne-sur-Mer, Gabriella, Martine and Simone can’t escape the feeling that the walls are closing in.
Yet, just as they should be trying to stay under the radar, Martine’s discovery of a British messenger pigeon leads them down a new and dangerous path. Gaby would do anything to protect her sisters but when the pianist is forced to teach the step-daughter of a German Commandant, and the town accuses the Cotillards of becoming ‘Bad French’ and in allegiance with the enemy, she realizes they have to take the opportunity to fight back that has been handed to them.
Now, as the sisters’ secrets wing their way to an unknown contact in London, Gaby, Martine and Simone have to wonder – have they opened a lifeline, or sealed their fate?
***
The Excerpt
Here the village is starting to suspect the sisters are German collaborators, all the while they are sending secret messages to London. The one saving grace is that atleast the villagers haven’t found out that Gaby, the oldest sister, is teaching piano to a German commandant’s daughter (she has no choice), because once word spreads of this, they are doomed.
*
A smoky haze hung over the harbor from the explosions and filtered into the streets. I pulled my scarf from my pocket to cover my mouth, coughing, looking over my shoulder, checking to see if anyone was watching, if anyone had seen from what direction I’d come. Madame Roche stood at her front window, watching passersby, and I stopped in the street to wave like I’d been doing since we’d come home to Boulogne-sur-Mer, only she seemed more startled than pleased to see me.
A man threw his shoulder into mine, sending me flying backward with a yelp. “Collaborator,” he grumbled, and I looked up to Madame Roche again, but she was nowhere to be seen. An eerie feeling passed over me. An unwelcome feeling. I ran to our shop, reaching for the doorknob only to gasp.
A black ribbon.
I yanked it away, ducking inside under a clang of doorbells and immediately turning for a peep between the curtains. Simone stood up from behind the desk. Martine demanded to know what was wrong with me. I turned around, opening my palm, the ribbon entwined in my fingers.
Martine hit the desk with her fist. “Bastards! When did that happen? Who did it?”
“I… I don’t know,” I said, exhausted from the encounter in the street and the thought that all the shopkeepers knew about our visitor last night, instead of just the few that had turned off their lights. I tossed the ribbon on a pile of clothes and Martine went to the window, hands on her hips, looking up and down the street. I rubbed the back of my neck where it ached. “A man in the street called me a collaborator.”
Simone’s hands flew to her mouth. “What’s going to happen when they find out about your employment?”
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked. “Mme. Leroux and her son.”
“Speaking of her.” Martine pointed out the window. “Here she comes.”
Mme. Leroux arched her shoulders back before stepping inside, leaving her son on the pavement. Her face was stern and unforgiving. “Is it true?”
Martine stepped forward as if she was about to give her a talking-to, but I put my hand out to stop her.
“Of all the people,” Mme. Leroux said. “God rest your aunt’s soul.” She folded her arms tightly, looking over Martine and her shocked face, and Simone, who stood helplessly by the counter. “I came to collect my clothing. I won’t be doing business here anymore.”
“I… Ah…” I motioned for Simone to retrieve her things from the back, and not to forget the pants we’d mended for her son, using our old jackets for material we couldn’t buy because of the rations.
Her lips pursed while she watched Simone carry her garments in from the back. “It’s bad enough you’ve become a black ribbon shop, but allowing a German civilian to live in your aunt’s apartment, free of charge? Blanche would be disgusted.” She snatched her things from Simone, nearly scratching my sister’s arms.
“Watch it,” Martine said. “You don’t know what—”
“Martine!” I said. “Leave Madame alone. If she doesn’t want to do business with us, that is fine.”
Mme. Leroux took her things in her arms and gave us a look of contempt. “I hope you go to hell. All of you.” She threw open the door and stormed out.
“Why didn’t you tell her?” Martine pointed to Madame Leroux as she dragged her son to the other side of the street, her clothing bundled under one arm, never looking back, not even a glance. “Gaby! She needs to know what you’re doing for her. What those rations have cost us.”
I held my face. “I can’t,” I said. “It’s not fair to burden her.”
Martine turned back toward the window to stew, while Simone walked to the opposite side of the shop, her dress plainly exposing her swelling belly, before slipping on her coat to cover herself up.
“At least they haven’t found out about your lessons,” Simone said.
I felt the envelope in my pocket and the lump of money the commandant had given me. It was only a matter of time now: no matter how many backstreets I took, the fact that I walked to the German district every day would be discovered eventually. I closed my eyes tightly. I should have told Streicher the piano wasn’t mine.
“Sisters,” I said, eyes opening. “I… I…” Martine stepped away from the window as I fumbled my words, and Simone’s mouth hung open as she watched me pull the envelope from my pocket and set it on the counter. “I have some more bad news.”
ISBN: 978 0008541996
Publisher: One More Chapter
Formats: e-book, audio and paperback
No. of Pages: 384 (paperback)
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