Increasingly preoccupied with the girl that had so entranced him, Finn was all fingers and thumbs on his first day as Captain Hamilton’s batman and didn’t seem to hear when the captain spoke to him.
In the end Hamilton said with irritation, ‘Sullivan, is anything the matter? You seem very distracted.’
‘No, sir. Sorry, sir.’
‘And you have such a dreamy expression on your face that I suspect you maybe in love,’ the captain continued.
Finn bent his head to hide the blush, but he was too late and Hamilton burst out, ‘By Jove, that’s it, isn’t it? I’ve hit the nail on the head. You’ve fallen for someone.’
‘Oh, no, sir. Nothing like that,’ Finn said rather forlornly. ‘I have just seen a girl I think is so very beautiful. She was with a man I presumed to be her father, but I haven’t spoken to her or anything.’
‘So you don’t know who it is you’ve lost your heart to?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Describe her to me,’ the captain commanded.
‘Oh, sir, she is just wonderful,’ Finn cried. ‘She has dark hair and it hangs down her back and it rippled and shone in the autumn sunlight, and she had a pert little nose, and her eyes set her face alight, and her blushes only make her more attractive.’
Hamilton laughed gently. ‘You have got it bad,’ he said. ‘Did you take any notice of the man?’
‘Oh, yes, sir,’ Finn said. ‘I took particular note of him because I couldn’t see how he had fathered such a good-looking girl.’
‘He wouldn’t win any beauty contest then?’
‘No, sir,’ said Finn with a chuckle. ‘He is quite tall and portly, and he has a fine head of hair though it is steel grey, but his face has a sort of forbidding look about it. His eyes look almost hooded, his nose is long and his mouth wide, though not much of it could be seen because he sported a large moustache that was as grey as the hair on his head.’
‘Now,’ said Hamilton, ‘a word of warning. You steer well clear of that girl and you can take that look off your face, man. I was young myself once and I know what it is to yearn after a woman who is unattainable—and believe me, Gabrielle Jobert is as unattainable as they come.’
‘Gabrielle,’ Finn breathed, thinking the name suited that lovely creature so well.
Hamilton nodded. ‘I am pretty certain that is who she is from the description that you have given me of her father. Pierre Jobert is an unpleasant and ugly kind of character and he rules those girls—even his wife, Mariette, so it’s said—with a rod of iron. I have seen that for myself. The girls are seldom out alone and what he is protecting them from are the lusty British soldier boys strutting about the place. Lay a hand on Miss Jobert, and her father, in all likelihood, would tear you from limb to limb.’
‘Believe me, sir, I mean her no harm,’ Finn muttered earnestly.
‘Of course you do, man,’ Hamilton said. ‘What you would really like to do is take her out for a tumble in the nearest available cornfield.’
‘No, sir.’ Finn was shocked.
‘Then you are not the man that I took you to be,’ Hamilton replied. ‘I recognise the feeling running through you well. The point is, Sullivan, frustration doesn’t bode well in a soldier. You have to have your wits about you on the battlefield. There is no place there for mooning over a girl you have a fantasy about.’
‘No, sir.’
‘Isn’t there another you can take up with?’
‘I was warned not to touch those girls, sir.’
‘Not the camp followers, no,’ Hamilton said. ‘But there might be others in the town not so well guarded or regarded, who might welcome a dalliance with a soldier. Believe me, when you have a real live girl in your arms you will get over this fixation on Gabrielle Jobert.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Finn said. He knew, though, no matter what he said, he wouldn’t go looking for any girl in the town. When a person has seen perfection first-hand, he is not likely to settle for second best.
‘Anyway,’ Hamilton went on after a while, ‘Jobert may be no oil painting, but I have it on good authority that he just happens to be the best baker in the town and so that is where I want you to go now. His shop is on Rue Allen and his name is above the shop, along with the word “Boulangerie”, which means baker. See, I have written it down for you, and I’ve written down what you must say too.’
‘Bonjour. Avez-vous une ficelle?’ Finn read out.
‘Not bad,’ Hamilton said approvingly. ‘Off you go then. I want that bread today, not tomorrow.’
Once out in the streets, Finn’s pulse quickened at the thought that he might see Gabrielle again. She might even serve in the shop. He deliberately hadn’t asked the captain if she did, because he guessed, by the amused smile on Hamilton’s face, that he had been waiting for him to do just that.
Gabrielle did serve in her father’s shop. Just to be near to her caused Finn’s heart to thump almost painfully against his ribs. His mouth was so dry that he wondered if he would be able to speak. He didn’t want to hand the piece of paper over as if he were a deaf mute. He had practised the sentence on the way so that he wouldn’t make an utter fool of himself and he continued to practise as he stood in the queue waiting to be served.
Though she made no sign, Gabrielle was only too aware that he was there. She couldn’t understand her attraction to the young soldier, who she could tell by his uniform served in the British Army, but she studied him surreptitiously as she served the other customers. He wasn’t as tall as her father, or as broad, but he looked fit, and his shoulders were well muscled. He wore no greatcoat that day and he looked so smart in his khaki uniform. His boots shone and his putties too were spotless.
He had removed his cap when he entered the shop and stood twisting it between his hands nervously. Gabrielle saw his hair was dark brown, his eyes were encircled with long black lashes, and his brow above them was puckered as if in concentration. Then the last customer left and the shop was empty except for Gabrielle, her mother and Finn. The mother turned to Gabrielle, said something to her and walked through to the back. Then Gabrielle faced Finn and smiled as she said, ‘Bonjour, Monsieur. Vous desirez?’
Her voice was just as melodious and charming as Finn had imagined it would be, and though he hadn’t understood what she said, he assumed that she was offering to serve him and so he replied, ‘Bonjour, Mademoiselle. Avez-vous une ficelle?’
Gabrielle clapped her hands in delight. ‘Très bon,’ she said, and added in an accent that totally bewitched Finn, ‘Very good, but we can talk in English, soldier, if it is easier for you.’
‘That’s fantastic,’ Finn cried. ‘I am so impressed. I never expected…’
‘Most of the townspeople speak only French,’ Gabrielle said, reaching for the bread he had asked for. ‘And they have never seen the need to learn other languages, but my maternal grandmother was half-English. She lived with us until she died, and though she spoke French most of the time, she spoke in English to me and my sister, Yvette. She always said learning another language was a good thing. It has been so useful now with so many English-speaking soldiers in the town.’
‘I can well imagine that,’ Finn said, taking the bread from Gabrielle. Their fingers touched for a brief second and a tingle ran through Finn’s arm.
‘Will that be all, soldier?’ Gabrielle asked.
Finn