The Nightingale(84)

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said.

“Why did you?”

“It doesn’t matter now.” He sighed. “I should have stayed in that back room today. It’s better not seeing you.”

“Not for me.”

He smiled. “You have a habit of saying whatever is on your mind, don’t you, Isabelle?”

“Always. Why did you leave me?”

He touched her face with a gentleness that made her want to cry; it felt like a good-bye, that touch, and she knew good-bye. “I wanted to forget you.”

She wanted to say something more, maybe “kiss me” or “don’t go” or “say I matter to you,” but it was already too late, the moment—whatever it was—was past. He was stepping away from her, disappearing into the shadows. He said softly, “Be careful, Iz,” and before she could answer, she knew he was gone; she felt his absence in her bones.

She waited a moment more, for her heartbeat to slow down and her emotions to stabilize, then she headed for home. She had barely released the lock on her front door when she felt herself being yanked inside. The door slammed shut behind her.

“Where in the hell have you been?”

Her father’s alcoholic breath washed over her, its sweetness a cloak over something dark; bitter. As if he’d been chewing aspirin. She tried to pull free but he held her so close it was almost an embrace, his grasp on her wrist tight enough to leave a bruise.

Then, as quickly as he’d grasped her, he let her go. She stumbled back, flailing for the light switch. When she flipped it, nothing happened.

“No more money for electricity,” her father said. He lit an oil lamp, held it between them. In the wavering light, he looked to be sculpted of melting wax; his lined face sagged, his eyelids were puffy and a little blue. His paddle nose showed black pores the size of pinheads. Even with all of that, with as … tired and old as he suddenly seemed, it was the look in his eyes that made her frown.

Something was wrong.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice raspy and sharp, unrecognizable this time of night without a slur. He led her down past the closet and around the corner to her room. Inside, he turned to look at her.

Behind him, in the lamp’s glow, she saw the moved armoire and the door to the secret room ajar. The smell of urine was strong. Thank God the airman was gone.

Isabelle shook her head, unable to speak.

He sank to sit on the edge of her bed, bowing his head. “Christ, Isabelle. You are a pain in the ass.”

She couldn’t move. Or think. She glanced at the bedroom door, wondering if she could make it out of the apartment. “It was nothing, Papa. A boy.” Oui. “A date. We were kissing, Papa.”

“And do all of your dates piss in the closet? You must be very popular, then.” He sighed. “Enough of this charade.”

“Charade?”

“You found an airman last night and hid him in the closet and today you took him to Monsieur Lévy.”

Isabelle could not have heard correctly. “Pardon?”

“Your downed airman—the one who pissed in the closet and left dirty bootprints in the hallway—you took him to Monsieur Lévy.”

“I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Good for you, Isabelle.”

When he fell silent, she couldn’t stand the suspense. “Papa?”

“I know you came here as a courier for the underground and that you are working with Paul Lévy’s network.”

“H-how—”

“Monsieur Lévy is an old friend. In fact, when the Nazis invaded, he came to me and pulled me out of the bottle of brandy that was all I cared about. He put me to work.”

Isabelle felt so unsteady, she couldn’t stand. It was too intimate to sit by her father, so she sank slowly to the carpet.

“I didn’t want you involved in this, Isabelle. That’s why I sent you from Paris in the first place. I didn’t want to put you at risk with my work. I should have known you’d find your own way to danger.”

“And all the other times you sent me away?” She wished instantly that she hadn’t asked the question, but the moment she had the thought, it was given voice.

“I am no good as a father. We both know that. At least not since your maman’s death.”

“How would we know? You never tried.”

“I tried. You just don’t remember. Anyway, that is all water gone by now. We have bigger concerns.”