GABRIELLE (V)

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Monsieur Pradier left two days after his letter arrived. Gabrielle knew it wasn't her loss to mourn, her very best friends had to let their father go, not knowing if he would ever come back, but in many ways, the whole village was mourning him. The farmers, the butchers, everyone. He was a kind man, a respected man and almost everyone knew what war could do to people. Gabrielle thought of many ways of trying to cheer her friends up, help them out, they had always looked out after her, it was her turn to do the same. She couldn't come up with a way of doing it that didn't seem completely useless, performative even. She didn't dare to knock on their door and ask them how they all were, she didn't dare to ask the teacher if she had any news. She was powerless. Until, after only a few days, whilst Gabrielle was helping her mother cook supper, she said that she had invited the entire family over to theirs.
"I just thought that it would be a nice gesture, but I don't know if they'll come, but as I said, they are very welcome."

As soon as she said this, Gabrielle instinctively hugged her mother. She had felt so useless, and for once she was giving her an opening not to be, she didn't know how else to thank her.
"Oh," The woman said, rather surprised. "Oh, all right." She hugged her back loosely, and then turned back to the stove.

"Should I set the table?" Gabrielle asked, putting her hands straight behind her back. Her mother chuckled, of course she would only offer if her friends were to come over.
"That would be lovely, chérie." her voice was laced with a light, fond chuckle. The young girl rushed to do so, counting the knives and forks, bubbling with anticipation. All she wanted to do was give Constance and clementine a well deserved hug. She hated to imagine them lost in their own thoughts, no doubt turning bitter toward each other, like they had a tendency of doing when they weren't doing well. Constance could be really nasty and Clementine would retreat in her shell, barely letting tears or words out when she got upset. As the sun slowly began to set behind the mountains, not casting its warm glow but still lighting up the early summer skies Gabrielle sat by the front door, her heart pounding with anticipation. She was thinking of what to say, or what absolutely not to say. What could she possibly say? The decision was impossible to make, and she didn't have much time to ponder on it, before she saw the four recognisable figures make their way up their slanted lawn covered in daisies and wild dandelions. They knocked on the door eventually, she wondered if they had hesitated, or if her dear Constance had thrown herself at the door like she usually did, but this seemed unlikely, since nothing about this situation was usual. She smoothed down her dress, took a deep breath, and opened the door to greet her guests. Marguerite stood on the doorstep, her face lined with worry, Constance and Clementine, behind them, was Pauline LeRouge, Clementine's mother, whom they said had never quite been the same since the death of her husband. Gabrielle found it strange everyone expected her to, after all, her entire family had never been the same since they had lost Satine. Gabrielle smiled warmly and hugged each of them tightly, feeling the warmth of something close to family envelop her.

"Come in, come in," she said, as they remained in a near silence, ushering them into the cosy living room where her grandmother dozed in an armchair.

"Marguerite, pauline!" her mother suddenly emerged from the kitchen, opening her arms to the two of them. "How have you been?" She asked between giving their cheeks a kiss each as a greeting. Gabrielle couldn't help but cringe at her mother's poor choice of wording. They already had a vague idea of how they had been recently, didn't they?

For once, Pauline was first to say something back, she was most like her daughter in that way, always the quiet one.

"It's very thoughtful of you to invite us, marie-Lise." She said simply, forcing a small smile. "It's nice to get out of the house."
"It's our pleasure." Marie-Lise said, her hand over her heart graciously.

"Our?" Madame Pradier laughed slightly. "We both know full well that that husband of yours didn't lift a finger." And though marie-lise did give her old friend a light disapproving nudge, she smiled slightly, it was true, so very true. Gabrielle would have laughed along with them, if she hadn't been so absorbed and disturbed by the awful quiet of her two friends. They stood, eyes vacant, hands laced together tightly and didn't seem to want to do anything.

"Ernest!" Her mother called up the stairs as Pauline LeRouge told all the children to sit down. Gabrielle felt slightly awkward, trying to catch Constance's attention, but she didn't make any eye-contact, she simply stared at her plate without showing much feeling. Gabrielle gulped. It pained her to see them this way but somewhere deep down it also made her feel unbelievably frustrated. She tried to repress those emotions out of guilt, but as her father finally made his way down to the dinner table, dinner was set on the table filling the air with some wonderful aroma and conversation took its course among the adults, Gabrielle felt all the more awkward. She had yet to exchange a single word between her friends.

"They're saying they might not put on the lambing fete this year," one of them said.
"Oh no, why would they do that?" Gabrielle's mother asked, her voice rising sky high. Between the clinking of their glasses and the chewing mouths around her Gabrielle could barely hear herself think.

'We could use the resources for the war effort instead."
"Haven't we given enough to the war effort?"
"I agree, Pauline, you are completely right, the fête should go on, isn't that right, Ernest?"
Gabrielle didn't care to note who was talking anymore. The image of Monsieur Pradier, with his kind eyes, having to leave his two young girls behind, leaving them these empty shells that sat around her dinner table unnoticed sent her into a spiral. They went on and on, her mind filled with memories of the newspaper readings Madame Garnier had done daily for two years, it was all catching up with them. How could it have taken her so long to realise the gravity of the situation? Had she truly meant to turn a blind eye to it all? Was it too late to just run the other way and avoid everything?
"I heard from madame Decroz that there is chaos on the roads, people walking all the way up from Calais to avoid the germans." She heard Madame Pradier say, she didn't understand why of all the things they could talk about, they chose more war and misery. Her friends certainly didn't need to hear more.

"Really?"
"Ah, yes, dreadful, I hear."
"People are blocking the roads, with their bikes, suitcases and everything. Children are alone on the street, screaming," The image of it sent shivers down Gabrielle's spine.

"Where are they all headed?" marie-Lise asked, Madame Pradier only shrugged, Gabrielle watched her face give the slightest hint of pity. Gabrielle found that studying her plate and its intricate floral border could keep her mind off the images her mind so kindly conjured for her.

"Half of them don't know," She continued, Gabrielle wished she could shut her ears off. "Almost everyone is fleeing Paris." At those words, Gabrielle suddenly looked up, colour draining from her face. Paris. That city had been a haunted place in her mind ever since she could remember.

"Fleeing Paris?" She asked feebly. The adults all turned to her abruptly, not expecting her to suddenly perk up. Pauline LeRouge put down her wine glass slowly, seeing the pale face of the young girl.
"Yes, Gabrielle, it's been declared an open city." Her father said as her mother tilted her head, trying to discern the emotions displayed on her daughter's face.

"I've heard the germans are targeting larger groups of travellers-"
Pauline LeRouge quickly nudged her sister-in-law. "Marguerite, don't say things like that!"

Gabrielle suddenly felt sick at the thought of those blue eyes in the dim candle light. Somewhere in that chaos was her sister. She found it very hard to breath all of a sudden and stood up."Sorry I-" She fumbled, stumbling on her feet as she made her way toward the stairs, out of the room. "Excusez-moi." Was all she could say before she rushed out to catch her breath. 

SatineDove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora