‘Ah, non, non,’ said Claudelle. Harry lifted his head. She was looking at him again, tears running down her face. She reached out to him. He gathered her in. They clung together. They shook with weeping.
Calm returned slowly. When Harry could think again, he had Claudelle in his arms and was rocking her like a child. Her face was pressed against him. He felt her tears on his skin, her fingers clenched in his collar. He took a breath, ran his hand over her shoulder, down her arm.
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Also I am so sorry,’ said Claudelle against his neck. ‘Please, Arry, say to me, comment, how? How?’
‘A big battle. Near the Menin Road. A big battle.’
‘Ah, non. Mon pauvre! And … when it is, this battle?’
‘Last month. October. October ninth.’
‘So long!’
‘I’m sorry. I couldn’t get away. I di
