21Madeleine wandered across the courtyard and into the cool dim cellar. Just a few days ago she’d been attacked by Philippe outside this very doorway. That was never going to happen to her again. For a moment she was hit by one of the attacks of light-headedness she’d been experiencing ever since his death. She clutched at the door jamb to steady herself and waited for it to pass. And yet for all the relief she felt, her heart had yet to sing. The best she could muster was a lukewarm flatness.
Minette was having an afternoon sleep — very unusual for her — and Graysie was happy to hang close by in case she awakened. Madeleine had been desperate to escape the house and was hoping Aristide would be in his office, twirling a pencil between his supple fingers, waiting for her to turn up for a
