Read Le Temps des Cerises for Free Online Page B

extra-ordinary mother!’

Chapter five

    I would fain have news of anywhere but here , Laurie wrote feverishly, taking up the letter from where he left off, trapped as we are in our little ice palace! Do you have any Tales from Toulouse to tell me? Is the Pope still in place? Is Mr Gladstone still Prime Minister of England? Is the Princess Louise married, Eveline would like to know.
    And is it true that the Prussians skate on Lake Enghein and stare round-eyed at Versailles? Our papers tell of regular parcels of bierwurst, smoked cheese and macaroni being sent to the troops and we gnash our teeth in envy!
    I am sure I have heard them playing their accordions and singing – it is like singing in the wilderness – in their harsh guttural voices. Alphonse tells me I am dreaming but Tessier assures me they are waltzing away to Eleven Thousand Maidens of Cologne! I wish I could believe him but he is a terrible prankster and in truth, if his command of German were as good as all that, he would have been taken for a spy by now! There is a veritable spy mania in Paris at the moment. Everyone is convinced their neighbour harbours some terrible secret. Only the other day a young widow (careful Maman!) was arrested because her neighbour reported her macaw doing semaphore out of the window; and some poor chap stuck his head out of a manhole only to get it blown off for his efforts! (No doubt building a magic tunnel to the Prussian camp.) Foreign visitors are so paranoid they’re taking out adverts in the press such as: Mr Crumblehome/Castiglione/Cooper is not a Prussian, having been born in Chelsea/Venice/New York. Delete as appropriate!
    I think we are all quite crazy with lack of food and being kept so long on tender hooks as Molly would put it! Not so very tender in truth.
    I wish you both a Merry Christmas in the hope this letter reaches you ‘par ballon’ before the 25 th . Think of me please as you scoff your roast turkey. I shall be in my rooms on the Rue d’Enfer or maybe with Eveline the Renans.
    In hope of peace,
    Your son,

    â€˜Hey, Laurie! Haven’t you finished that letter yet?’
    â€˜Alphonse!’ Laurie grinned in delight, letter forgotten, and stood to greet his friend who had appeared as always from nowhere – large as life, eyes twinkling, his strong graceful fingers wrapped round the neck of a hessian sack. ‘What the hell have you got in there? Bismarck?’
    â€˜Yeah, and his balls. Let’s just say it’s a delicacy...’
    â€˜It’s a lark!’ someone shouted.
    â€˜Crow!’
    â€˜Your mother’s nose!’
    â€˜Arse!’
    â€˜...for the bastards who dine at Brébant’s while the rest of Paris starves,’ Alphonse finished with a grin when he could get a word in edgeways. He took a swig of mouth warmer then spat it out with a grimace. ‘That stuff gets worse!’
    Laurie nodded. For as long as he could remember Alphonse had worked at Brébant’s, in between his job as a waker-upper 4   and his political ambitions. He had said that to infiltrate the toffee-nosed and the upper crust you might as well serve ’em up their toffees and crusts – a little burnt and stale perhaps, just for the fun of it.
    â€˜It’s Trochu’s plan 5 ,’ Tessier said suddenly, pointing at the sack. ‘That’s where it’s been hiding. Alphonse Duchamp, master magician, delivers from his bag – Trochu’s plan. Where did he find it ladies and gentlemen? The Hôtel de Ville? A government journal? The Ministry of War? No! The elusive article was found in a turnip field! Trochu’s plan came from a turnip field!’
    â€˜Oh, you’re good, Tessier,’ Alphonse smiled kindly, running his fingers through his dark curly hair. ‘I wouldn’t want you on the other team.’
    Tessier looked as pleased as punch and he poured Alphonse a drop of gin then shuffled the pack again, this