ships were tied to the pier. A block away a sign said, “Bistro.”
The captain opened the door and Noelle got out, followed by General Scheider.
“It’s probably open all night for the dock workers,” Noelle said. She heard the sound
of a motor and turned around. A cargo-loading forklift had driven up and stopped near the
limousine. Two men wearing coveralls and long, visored caps that concealed their faces
got out of the machine. One of the men looked hard at Noelle, then took out a tool kit and
began to tighten the forklift. Noelle felt the muscles in her stomach constrict. She took
General Scheider’s arm and they started toward the restaurant. Noelle looked back at the
chauffeur sitting behind the wheel.
“Wouldn’t he like some coffee?” Noelle asked.
“He will stay with the car,” the General said.
Noelle stared at him. The chauffeur must not stay with the car or everything would be
ruined. Yet Noelle dared not insist.
They walked on toward the café over the rough, uneven cobblestones. Suddenly, as
she took a step, her ankle turned and Noelle fell, letting out a sharp cry of pain. General
Scheider reached out and vainly tried to grab her before her body hit the cobblestones.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
The chauffeur, seeing what had happened, moved from behind the wheel of the car
and started hurrying toward them.
“I’m so sorry,” Noelle said. “I—I turned my ankle. It feels like it’s broken.”
General Scheider ran his hand expertly over her ankle. “There is no swelling. It is
probably just a sprain. Can you stand on it?”
“I—I don’t know,” Noelle said.
The chauffeur reached her side and the two men lifted her to her feet. Noelle took a
step and the ankle gave way under her.
“I’m sorry,” she moaned. “If I could just sit down.”
“Help me get her in there,” General Scheider said, indicating the café.
With the two men supporting her on either side, they walked into the restaurant. As
she walked through the door, Noelle risked a quick look back at the car. The two dock
workers were at the trunk of the limousine.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go straight on to the Etratat?” the General was
asking.
“No, believe me, I’ll be fine,” Noelle replied.
The proprietor led them to a corner table, and the two men eased Noelle into a chair.
“Are you in much pain?” General Scheider asked.
“A bit,” Noelle replied. She put her hand on his. “Don’t worry. I won’t let this spoil