The Long Summer of Monsieur Loiseau

"Alex's birthday is in April, April 1950th, and he got his ID card two months earlier than me. I am very envious, Mr. Rivers, and want to get that little piece of paper very much. You may very It's hard to understand the idea when the registration system has nothing to be proud of and it was abolished very soon after the war, [-], I think?"

"Very close, Mr. Prudence, in 1952."

"Of course, in 1952, thank you, Mr. Rivers. At that time, the rule was that you had to be ten years old to get an identity card. It would have your name and address on it, and it would be stamped. This was to guard against German spies. In that small Cornish village ID cards were superfluous because everyone knew everyone, but Alex carried them with him and showed them whenever he could, to show he was a big boy over ten, And a year older than me on paper, even though our real age difference is only two months. He started discussing the possibility of joining the army in eight years, a topic Martha didn't like at all, teaching us that wars are different from stories, and It's not a risk, and we better hope we don't have it in our lives."

As if specifically intended to exemplify Martha's words, within a week a letter from George had made its way through the battered postal system to Cornwall.The addressee was not the Baron Loiseau, but "Mr. Arthur Blakely," their gardener, Lyle's father.One page, both front and back.The letter had apparently been censored by intelligence officers for security purposes, with some place names and dates blacked out, and occasionally entire sentences erased.

"I had the pleasure of briefly working with Lyle on [date deleted]," George wrote, "by which time he was already a very competent 'Hurricane' pilot, even with limited training and the responsibilities and The training was disproportionately stressful... Heroically, he and his squad shot down a 'Stuka' bomber over [location name redacted]; also assisted [whole paragraph redacted] in driving out Nazi reconnaissance M. Mr. Blakely, I am writing because I and all the pilots at [place name redacted] want you to know that Lyle has met all expectations and you have every reason to be proud of him. "

He starts a new line.

"Similarly, as a friend and squad leader, I have a painful obligation to have to inform with regret that at least two pilots and a The captain of the civilian fishing boat witnessed his fighter jet being shot down, but they also confirmed that Lyle successfully parachuted. The fishing boat tried to go to the rescue, but was forced by the fierce German air force fire, and could not get close. At that time”

The sentence after "then" came to an abrupt end and was completely blacked out, the color of the ink showing through to the back of the paper.A few short and scattered paragraphs follow, talking about the belated search and rescue operation, "still no results", and some pale consolation, George said, "We still have cautious hopes, and hope you do the same" , signature, letter ends here.

Harry and Alex didn't know the gardener's reaction after reading the letter, because it happened in the study behind closed doors, and the boys were in the attic, taking turns throwing paper airplanes over the garden, watching They trembled and fell towards the bushes and flower stands, and occasionally one or two were lifted by the wind and flew to the treetops.Later the boys would run downstairs, retrieve any paper airplanes they could get to, and throw them again.It was a mild sunny day, and they only noticed that the post office's car stopped in front of the door for a while, and then drove away quickly.During the next few days, they often saw Mr. Blakely prowling around the rose trellis, perhaps waiting for buds that had not yet emerged.

"Those who are missing," Prudence whispered, and the reporter pushed the recorder forward so that his voice would not be heard, "give us more grief than the dead. Where are you going for Lyle? What about a bouquet of flowers? Dover cliffs, Hornchurch Air Force Base, or simply sailing out to sea? If we like, we can now see all the files on Lyle Blakely, his medical report, the type of aircraft he flew , Attendance records, air battle reports, but what's the use? Like my mother, I dug up all the information I had the right to dig up, it was not her duty day, so she was not at the Red Cross, she should be at home. Did she run out into the street when the air-raid sirens sounded, but didn't make it to the bomb shelter or subway station in time? Or did she decide to hide in that basement that wasn't deep enough, buried under the rubble, unable to escape the final fire? You had to forever Torture yourself with these speculations, try to plug the hole."

"Mr Blakely's eldest son came back from the war with the amputated sole of his right foot, frostbitten in the moors after escaping from the prison camp. Then he left Cornwall to work elsewhere, I don't know where. Mr Blakely has been Staying at the mansion, to take care of the roses left by Lyle, I suppose. They even won a local gardening competition. 'Blakely' rose, the star flower of Loiseau."

"Alex and I sleepwalked through it all blissfully, and I don't say blissfully because we were away from the war - there were air raids from time to time, rationing of almost everything, and basically nothing to buy in the shops —but because we didn't understand their horror until many years later. At that time, our biggest trouble was that the "tree house" collapsed into a pit full of rubble, and no one knew when Happened, we hadn't been there all winter. Thankfully it was warm enough that we could play outside all day again. Alex wanted to teach me polo but we only had one horse and we had to improvise Work around, invent an improved game of croquet, and Mercury need only be our umpire."

"One afternoon in mid-May, when we came back from the polo field, there was a stranger standing in the foyer." Prudence stared at the fire for a moment, shaking his head. "It's not fair to say 'stranger' , I know her, but I have completely forgotten her. She was talking to Martha, and when she saw me, she ran over, hugged me like a very big, fluffy pink wombat, and asked If I'm all right, remember who she is. Of course I do, Connie Parker, née Prudence, my father's sister."

She had come to take Harry away.It took her a lot of time to find out what happened to her nephew, yes she lived in the village briefly but her husband, Mr Parker, moved to Sussex with her in the first year of their marriage , did not leave a postal address, I am afraid this is the source of the misunderstanding, Harry's mother always thought that the Parker family was still in Cornwall.She was happy to see that Harry was well cared for, but it was better for the child to stay with real relatives.She had made the long drive from Sussex, and it would be great if Harry could pack up and leave as soon as possible.

Martha listened to her lengthy explanation in silence, said "excuse me", went upstairs to find Baron Loiseau, and came down after a while to invite Connie, but "you don't need to bring Harry, boys able to take care of myself.”

"Who is she?" Alex asked.

"Aunt Connie, my father's sister."

"You're not going, are you? You live here."

Harry didn't know the answer.

The conversation between Aunt Connie and the Baron continued until dinner time, and out of courtesy, it was natural to invite Mrs. Parker in the pink coat to stay for dinner.Harry and Alex sat in their usual places, looking at each other nervously from time to time.Baron Loiseau waited until dessert was served before announcing that Mrs. Parker would stay overnight, and that Harry needed to pack up his things and leave with his legal guardians tomorrow morning.He spoke very slowly, as if every word had a barb, hooking his throat. "We are very grateful to young Mr. Prudence for giving us a year to remember," he said finally, looking at Harry mildly, but Harry's attention was on Alex, who pushed back plate, said "Sorry" in a low voice, and left the restaurant.

"He didn't say goodbye to me, just like he refused to say goodbye to George. Martha looked for him, but Alex wasn't in his room, I guess he was hiding behind a pine trunk in the attic, but I didn't have time to go Find him. Aunt Connie and I packed by a candle - afraid to turn on the light lest the light would show through and attract the attention of the German planes - I didn't want to talk to her, but Aunt Connie could by herself All three, slamming how dodgy the evacuation plan was, reiterating how hard it took her to figure out I was being sent to this remote corner, complaining that the country roads weren't even good for driving. I just listened and tried not to act Look sad."

"We left early the next morning and Martha was standing on the doorstep, wiping her eyes with her apron. I looked at Alex's window, but the curtains were kept drawn. I walked past the A gravel road, and Aunt Connie's car was parked outside the fence. Just as we drove through the moors."

Prudence hesitated, tapped the arm of the rocker, and glanced at the recorder.

"What happened next, I'm not sure if I saw it with my own eyes or dreamed about it later. As I was driving through the wilderness, I thought I saw Charis, the brown bitch fox with the left eye There is a small tuft of white fur next to it. Three little foxes are playing in the grass. I remember Charis's eyes, wet, with the innocence of that kind of animal, and the complete indifference, which does not understand and does not want to understand humans That's when I suddenly realized that I forgot to take my mother's handkerchief."

The first part is completed.

PartII-Perihelion