would be in a pickle without him, Pa. I can’t speak a word of French, and neither can you.’
‘I know how to communicate with people, Nettie. But we’ll put up with him for a while and then he can go on his way. I don’t want you getting too close to a fellow who has little or no prospects.’
Nettie stared at him, speechless. It was on the tip of her tongue to remind Pa that he was the fugitive from justice and Byron was here to help them, but she knew it would be futile. Once her father had an idea in his head it was almost impossible to make him see reason.
‘She has two rooms,’ Byron said as he hurried back to them. ‘They’re in the attic, but she says there’s another couple who are interested so we have to give her an answer right away.’
‘The woman is probably bluffing.’ Robert was about to walk away when Nettie caught him by the sleeve.
‘It’s getting late, Pa. We need to have somewhere to sleep.’ She turned to Byron. ‘How much rent is she asking?’
‘About twice as much as we were paying Ma Burton.’
‘Daylight robbery,’ Robert said, frowning. ‘We’ll look elsewhere.’
Nettie tightened her grip on her father’s arm. ‘Think about it, Pa. If we can’t find somewhere quickly we’ll have to pay for three hotel rooms. What would that cost?’
‘All right.’ Robert gave in graciously. ‘We’ll take the rooms for a week, and in the meantime we can look for something more reasonable.’ He picked up the bag containing his paints and brushes, leaving Byron to carry his case. ‘Lead on. I want to see what you’ve let us in for, Mr Horton.’
‘I’d remind you that you are the one fleeing the law, Mr Carroll. And since you cannot speak the language you are at a definite disadvantage.’ Byron dropped the suitcase at Robert’s feet. ‘I came as a friend, not as a servant.’ He took Nettie’s valise from her hand and led the way into the house.
‘You asked for that, Pa,’ Nettie said softly. ‘Don’t underestimate Byron, and remember that we need him if we’re to get on in this country.’
‘When I want your opinion I’ll ask for it.’ Robert stomped past her and followed the landlady up the stairs.
Madame was not a young woman, but she was obviously used to negotiating five flights of steep stairs and she was barely out of breath when they reached the attics. Robert, however, was red in the face and gasping for breath. Nettie’s knees were aching, but she could see that her father was genuinely suffering.
Madame unlocked the door and ushered them into the room. She addressed Byron, speaking rapidly and waving her hands about as if conducting an invisible orchestra.
‘She wants a week’s rent in advance and she’s put the price up,’ Byron said hastily. ‘I think she suspects something, so it might be as well to pay her and keep her happy.’
‘Blackmail is the same in any language.’ Robert took a leather pouch from his pocket and handed it to Byron. ‘Pay the old hag, but we won’t be staying here for long. That I promise you.’ He glanced around the low-ceilinged room with bare floorboards and the minimum of furniture.
All smiles now, Madame left them, closing the door behind her.
‘I get the feeling she’s had the best of that deal,’ Byron said grimly.
Nettie examined the iron bed with a thin flock-filled mattress, and the washstand with a cracked basin and a jug with a chipped handle. A single chair and a low table were the only other items of furniture, and it was much the same in the larger room, although it boasted a double bed and two chairs. She was quick to notice that one of them had a broken leg.
‘How am I supposed to work here?’ Robert demanded. ‘I suppose I will have to let you share with me, Horton, unless you can persuade Madame to supply another bed.’
Nettie turned on him, frowning. ‘Stop complaining, Pa. At least we have a roof over our heads, and it gives us time to look round for something better. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Robert said apologetically. ‘I’m sorry, Nettie. I am being selfish and thoughtless. Let’s try that café we saw in the square. Maybe I can drum up some custom for sketching portraits in charcoal. That means cash on the nail.’
Nettie shook her head. ‘Pa, you’re unbelievable.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment, my dear,’ Robert said, smiling. ‘Lead on, Horton. No hard feelings, old man. We’re in this together now and I’m very grateful to you for using your linguistic abilities to our advantage.’
Nettie and Byron exchanged amused glances, saying nothing. Nettie was used to her father’s mercurial temperament, and she was relieved to see that Byron did not take him too seriously.
‘Let me wash my hands and face first,’ Nettie said hastily. ‘I need to brush my hair and make myself presentable.’
‘Very well.’ Robert sighed heavily. ‘If you must.’
Nettie took off her gloves and laid them on the single bed before going to the washstand, but the pitcher was empty.
‘I thought there would be water in the jug, but it’s empty.’
Byron stuck his head round the door. ‘Madame said we have to fetch it from the pump in the back yard. I’ll go, Nettie.’
‘Don’t worry, Byron. I’ll wash later. Let’s get something to eat first.’
It was almost dark when they reached the café in the square, but it was packed with customers, and they were lucky to find a table outside.
‘We must have wine to celebrate our first night of freedom,’ Robert said grandly. ‘A good claret, I think. You can order it, Horton, and I’ll have a steak. I don’t want any of their foreign food.’
‘We have to budget our money, Pa,’ Nettie said in a low voice.
‘I have to eat, dear girl. I cannot produce my best work if I am hungry, and a man needs red meat. I don’t suppose they do chops or steak-and-kidney pudding. Order plenty of food, Horton. We won’t be short of money once I become established, and you’re a big strong fellow, I’m sure you’ll find gainful employment soon.’
Nettie glanced anxiously at Byron, who had managed to attract the attention of a waiter and was passing on the order. She leaned towards him.
‘I’ll have the dish of the day or whatever is cheapest, Byron.’
‘Too late,’ he said as the waiter hurried off into the café. ‘I’ve ordered steaks all round. You heard your father, Nettie. He’s going to earn a fortune with his sketches and paintings. We’ll be dining like this every evening.’ He sat back as another waiter arrived with a bottle of wine, and he sampled it like an expert, nodding his approval.
Nettie raised her full glass to her lips and gulped down a mouthful of the ruby-red wine, and a warm glow spread throughout her body. Suddenly her worries seemed quite trivial. After all, Pa had once been a famous artist in his own right – he could compete with
