The Child Left Behind. Anne Bennett

      ‘Oh, not goodbye,’ Gabrielle smiled. ‘We are sure to meet again. Shall we say au revoir?’

      Just the way that she said it and the way that she was looking at him was causing Finn’s heart to flip over and only willpower kept the shake out of his voice as he said, ‘Au revoir it is then.’ He left the shop and floated on air all the way back to Headquarters.

      Every day that week, Hamilton sent Finn to the baker’s and every day he was increasingly charmed and bewitched by Gabrielle. He was surprised that she never seemed to hear the thump of his heart in his breast at the sight of her.

      On Saturday, on his way to the baker’s, he had to weave his way through the crowded market that was held in the square in front of the hôtel de ville, which Captain Hamilton had told him was the town hall. Produce of every description was piled high on carts, barrows and trestle tables, and it reminded Finn of the Saturday market at Buncrana. It was a day such as this that he had stepped forward to enlist in the British Army, and for a moment he thought of them all at home and a wave of homesickness took him by surprise.

      As he was making ready to return to his company on Saturday evening, he asked if he had leave in the morning to attend Mass.

      ‘Should have guessed you were a Catholic,’ Hamilton said.

      ‘Yes, sir,’ Finn said. ‘I didn’t get to go last week because we were just so busy transporting the wounded, but I thought—’

      ‘You thought that as all you are doing is attending to my creature comforts, you feel justified in leaving me to my own devices and attending to your immortal soul, is that it?’ Hamilton asked with a wry grin.

      Finn wasn’t sure whether he was angry with him or not, though he knew that he was often sarcastic, so he said hesitantly. ‘Well, sir, it’s just…You see, sir…a Catholic is expected…’

      Hamilton decided that he had enjoyed Finn’s discomfort long enough. ‘I am joking, Private Finn Sullivan,’ he said with a broad smile. ‘I wouldn’t like to be held responsible for you committing a sin by missing Mass and so if you make my breakfast, then you are free for the rest of the day.’

      ‘The whole day, sir?’ Finn said delighted. ‘Thank you, sir.’

      In their brief forays through the town, Christy and Finn had decided to attend Mass at the cathedral, Notre Dame des Miracles, which was on Rue des Tribunaux towards the edge of town, and so the following day they made their way there. The cathedral was an imposing building, built of grey brick and approached up a set of stone steps.

      ‘It isn’t all that big, though, is it?’ Finn said. ‘I always thought that cathedrals were bigger places.’

      ‘How many cathedrals have you seen, then?’

      ‘Well, not that many,’ Finn replied with a grin. ‘None, in fact.’

      ‘Exactly,’ Christy replied. ‘Anyway, things are probably different here. Let’s go and have a look anyway.’ As they ascended the steps he said, ‘One of the lads in the mess was telling me about some tale of the shoes left on top of the tomb of some saint or other in this church.’

      ‘A patron saint of shoes?’ Finn asked incredulously.

      ‘No, you dope.’ Christy said. ‘Parents who have children with walking problems pray to him and leave shoes on his tomb.’

      ‘Was he having you on?’

      ‘Don’t think so.’

      ‘Well, it’s a very odd thing to do,’ Finn said. ‘I can’t wait to see that for myself.’ He opened the door as he spoke and stepped inside.

      The cathedral was very beautiful. It was held up by gigantic pillars, and many flickering candles illuminated the elaborate golden screen above the ornate altar, while autumn sunshine shone through the domed stained-glass windows bathing the interior in shafts of vibrant colour.

      Finn spotted, among the tombstones set around the edges of the church, the gilded tomb of St Erkembode, a collection of shoes of all shapes and sizes lining the top. The strains of the organ began and the two soldiers hurriedly entered a pew. But then all the beauty and splendour of the cathedral mattered little to Finn as he had spotted the Jobert family just two pews in front of him.

      After that, he went through the Latin responses in an almost mechanical manner, anxious to get the Mass over and done with so that he could gaze on Gabrielle’s beautiful face once more. Her family were taking Communion ahead of Finn and Christy so that they were going to the rails as she was returning. Her eyes met Finn’s and once more she gave him that shy, tentative smile before bending her head over her joined hands.

      Finn felt his heart skip a beat. Her smile was so wondrous he thought as he kneeled down at the rails to receive Communion; it was just as if she had bestowed a gift on him.

      When the Mass was over, Finn led Christy out of the side door, knowing that that way he would be out before the Joberts, as people would probably mill on the steps outside the front door, as they did in most churches.

      Christy, who hadn’t noticed the Joberts in the congregation, was surprised by the unseemly haste in which Finn was leaving, and a bit annoyed. He wouldn’t have minded taking a look round as the church emptied, and as they reached the alleyway the side door opened on to, he said, ‘What’s your hurry, Finn?’

      Finn didn’t answer but continued to move up the alleyway, from which he could see the main doors of the church without being observed himself.

      ‘So what are we now hanging about here for?’ Christy said. ‘We should head back, shouldn’t we?’

      ‘In a minute,’ Finn said, because he had seen Gabrielle framed in the doorway and his heart had started to turn somersaults.

      Christy followed his gaze and sighed. So that was it. Finn and his fixation on the Jobert girl. ‘You are heading for bloody trouble, if you ask me.’

      ‘Well, I haven’t asked you,’ Finn said. ‘Weren’t you the one that said soldiers should take risks? And this is the time to take them, because you are a bloody long time dead.’

      At that moment a group of chattering girls, running round the corner at speed, almost cannoned into him. There was a flurry of apologies before Finn realised that one of the girls was Gabrielle’s young sister. He saw that Gabrielle was now out of church and on the steps beside their parents, who were in conversation.

      Yvette Jobert recognised Finn at the same time and bobbed a little curtsy. ‘Bonjour, Monsieur.’

      ‘Bonjour, Mademoiselle,’ Finn replied, raising his hat.

      The girls giggled at Finn’s response and the sound drew Gabrielle’s attention. She turned and, spotting her sister, came towards them. When she saw Finn and Christy she coloured bright pink before turning to her sister and speaking sharply to her in French.

      ‘Don’t scold her,’ Finn said. ‘We only greeted one another, that was all.’

      ‘That is enough,’ Gabrielle said. ‘Believe me, if my father caught her near a soldier, let alone talking to one, he would be very angry.’ There was a pause and then she added, ‘Let us hope that he hasn’t noticed our absence.’ And then turning to include Christy she said, ‘I bid you au revoir, gentlemen.’

      ‘Au revoir, Mademoiselle,’ Finn replied, his voice slightly husky with emotion.

      He watched her stride back to her parents with her chastened sister trailing behind her.

      ‘See. Do you want it spelled out any more clearly than that,’ Christy said. ‘Even to stand near you is a sin in their father’s eyes, so your fantasy will just have to stay a fantasy. Now let’s go back to the camp and get something to eat before I fade away completely.’