Who: Victoire, OPEN What: She needs to get out more. Where: Jardin des Tuileries When: April 5, 1941, late afternoon Complete/Incomplete: Complete
The rain never bothered Victoire, even when she had her hair all done up going to the opera with Yuri, even when it nearly ruined her gold silk gown. Rain was a good time for love-making, staying in bed naked all day laying next to the person you love most in the world, smoking cigarettes and drinking wine, playing piano wrapped in a bed sheet. No, the rain never bothered her.
Which was why she was sitting in le Jardin de Tuileries even though it was raining -- well, it wasn't really raining. More misting, a steady hazy mist that was so unnoticable that you didn't even know you were wet until your hair was soaked and your clothes stuck on your body like a second skin. No, Victoire sat on a bench under a tree in the vacant park, smoking a cigarette. Her blue knee-length dress stuck to her skinny legs, soaking. It sounded funny, even to herself, but sitting in the rain made her feel clean. This was what she needed, especially since she had started working again. Sex for money felt like betrayal, and it was more than she could bear to think about. It made her feel filthy and no amount of hot showers could fix that (if she could get hot water in the first place), but sitting in the rain felt different. If Yuri was dead, if he was really gone, then Victoire had no doubt he was in heaven and then it was he sending her the rain. To comfort her. To tell her it was alright.
Victoire was torn away from her thoughts by a figure heading up the path toward her. She couldn't make out who it was or even if he was wearing a German uniform or civilian clothes. She clutched the small purse next to her. Inside, along with her papers, was a small pistol, Yuri's old one, and she knew how to use it if she had to.