The Paris Architect: A Novel

All the usual cacophony of the building site in Tremblay had vanished. Dead silence. No hammering, no sawing, no cranes moving or men shouting. Labrune also took notice and had a puzzled look on his face. Lucien turned around and saw every single man staring in the same exact direction off to the east. He immediately thought they saw approaching bombers. There was no antiaircraft protection or bomb shelters at the site. No one in the German High Command in Paris thought it necessary yet. Where would everyone hide?

Lucien followed the eyes of a laborer who’d stopped nearby with his wheelbarrow and discovered to his amazement what had captured everyone’s attention. About thirty meters away, in a navy blue dress and a dark gray scarf, came Bette. She smiled and waved as she drew near. Lucien looked around him and was quite amused. Every man had stopped dead in his tracks to gaze at Bette. It must have been quite odd for them to see such an incongruous sight, as if Martians had landed in a flying saucer.

“Hello,” said Bette, as she walked up to him. “I bet you’re surprised to see me.”

“Yes, I am, and so are two hundred other men,” replied Lucien, tilting his head to the construction gang behind him.

Bette seemed puzzled. “What, they’ve never seen a woman on a building site?”

“Not someone like you, I can assure you, mademoiselle,” answered Labrune, who turned to Lucien, expecting an introduction.

“Mademoiselle Tullard, this is Monsieur Labrune, our general contractor.”

“A great pleasure,” said the old man, who kissed her hand.

“So pleased to meet you. Lucien told me that without you, nothing would get built.” Labrune’s grizzled old face lit up with delight.

“I thought I’d surprise you. Karin from the office has an old Renault and a petrol ration so she dropped me off,” Bette said, turning to Lucien. “I first stopped off at your office but that kid from your office, Alain, told me you were out here. I was hoping you’d be free for lunch.”

“Well…you see I’m really busy…”

“Don’t be so damn rude to such an incredible-looking woman, Bernard. You must take her out for a fine lunch,” protested Labrune, smiling from ear to ear at Bette. “You must go immediately. Don’t keep mademoiselle waiting a second longer.” Labrune grabbed the drawings out of Lucien’s hands, placed his hand in the middle of Lucien’s back, and started shoving him forward rather roughly. “We’ll be fine without you.”

“All right, let’s go. My car’s over there.” Bette said good-bye to Labrune and walked off with Lucien.

“Now remember, don’t hurry back on my account. Take the whole afternoon. You young people should enjoy yourselves,” Labrune shouted after them.

“What a sweet old man, Lucien. And you said he was a son-of-a-bitch.”

Labrune looked about him and screamed. “Let’s go, you lazy bastards, get back to work. Haven’t you ever seen a woman before?” Some men began working, but most kept staring after Bette.

As they walked, Bette’s right high-heeled shoe stepped in a mud hole. “Shit, my best shoes.”

Lucien burst out laughing. “Next time, wear work boots.”

“I don’t have any that match this dress, dummy.” She took off the shoe and hopped the rest of the way to the car.

Once in the car, she wrapped her arms around Lucien and gave him a long, passionate kiss. He didn’t care if anyone could see them. In fact, he was secretly proud that the men saw what a gorgeous girl he had.