Jackdaws
Chapter One
One minute before the explosion, the square at Sainte-Cècil was at peace. The evening was warm, and a layer of
still air covered the town like a blanket. The church bell tolled a lazy beat, calling worshipers to the service with
little enthusiasm. To Felicity Clairet it sounded like a countdown.
The square was dominated by the seventeenth-century château. A small version of Versailles, it had a grand
projecting front entrance, and wings on both sides that turned right angles and tailed off rearwards. There was a
basement and two main floors topped by a tall roof with arched dormer windows.
Felicity, who was always called Flick, loved France. She enjoyed its graceful buildings, its mild weather, its
leisurely lunches, its cultured people. She liked French paintings, French literature, and stylish French clothes.
Visitors often found the French people unfriendly, but Flick had been speaking the language since she was six years
old, and no one could tell she was a foreigner.
It angered her that the France she loved no longer existed. There was not enough food for leisurely lunches, the
paintings had all been stolen by th ... read full excerpt from: Jackdaws ebook
