During the flood, the cracked seabed around the meteorite was exposed to hyper-erosion, the flood gouging out the cracks into much larger holes before receding. The process repeated one hundred and eighty thousand years ago when the Weald-Artois Anticline ridge failed again. The resulting flood finished digging out the English Channel and the caves.
2) The formation of the rift in the cliff (Location: Present-day Etretat)
The Weald-Artois flood created many lakes in surrounding valleys. An inland fresh water sea was formed on the mainland, not far from the caves. Over the years, several tributaries developed, emptying the inland sea into the new English Channel. One such tributary eventually became the Seine River.
Over time, a small river offshoot dug a narrow path in the limestone bed, near the buried meteorite and its nest of caves. Over millennia, the tributary grew, eroding its estuary into a long narrow valley.
As the inland sea level dropped, gravel was deposited on the tributary beds, filling the smaller rivers completely with fine gravel. The river emptying into the newly created port (site of Etretat today) stopped flowing on the surface. Plants encroached on the dry river bed until it vanished completely, hiding all evidence of the water still flowing below.
3) The Roman period of occupation
By 54 BC, the caves lay deep in Belgica, a Gaul territory, near the town of Caleti (Etretat). Caesar was developing plans to deal with the bothersome Gauls, who had been harassing the Romans for almost three hundred years. Unfortunately for the Gauls, Caesar's decision to commit most of the Roman military resources to the Gallic Wars was the turning point, setting the stage for a final confrontation.
Vercingetorix, chief of the Averni tribe of Central Gaul, incited by the brutal Roman attacks, successfully united the Gauls against the Romans. The inhabitants of Caleti, learning of Vercingetorix's rallying cry, sent ten thousand men to join the growing army, seriously depleting their ranks at home. Caesar suffered a defeat at Gergovia but finally cornered Vercingetorix at Alesia, effectively marking the end of the Gallic Wars.
The small Caleti port was taken over by the Romans. Construction of a road was begun, linking the port with Juliobonna. Roman structures were built on each cliff overlooking Caleti, One, a Roman garrison, and the other, a fort, designed for private use.
This fort, known today as Frefosse, was built over the entrance to the caves, effectively hiding it. The port remained in use until the end of the Roman period.
The caves were re-discovered by Francis the First, during his rebuilding of the fort. He chose to keep their existence hidden, using them as his private repository for gold and other valuables. Knowledge of the caves was lost during the French Revolution. They remained undisturbed until Leblanc's amateurish efforts brought attention to them once again.
End of Summary
Chapter 7
Talking to Mrs Leblanc
We spent the rest of the afternoon walking slowly along the paths, learning about each other. It gave me the opportunity to explain about my father's hunts and about the note found hidden inside the book. Through it all, I never breathed a single word about my techno-glasses.
I would find an opening when the time was right.
We agreed to join forces and figure out the connection between our families. The next step was to talk to her mother about her grandfather and when they escaped from the Germans, in 1939.
Leblanc had died shortly after his escape from Etretat and we hoped Mrs Leblanc would be able to shed light on his final days. However, the topic we wanted to discuss was taboo around the house. We had to proceed delicately.
We parked in the lot and got out of the Porsche, walking hand in hand. Her mother was at the Leblanc Villa counter, looking relieved. "Well, well, well. My missing daughter is finally here to take over the desk." Mrs Leblanc came around the counter and hugged Raymonde tightly. "I was worried. You were gone so long, without leaving a note," Mrs Leblanc said tenderly. She turned to me, a knowing look in her eyes. "Young man, I saw you holding my daughter's hand and how she looks at you. Come here."
I approached her, not knowing what to expect. She held my face with her steady hands and kissed me once on each cheek, both of which reddened immediately. "Welcome to our home, Paul Sirenne."
I returned the gesture, kissing both cheeks lightly. "Thank you. I will keep an eye on her for you."
"You had better. And I will be keeping my eyes on the both of you. Now you can tell me how this romance has come about. No, actually, go on up to my private room. I will finish here and join you in five minutes. Off you go."
We left Mrs Leblanc at the front desk and headed upstairs. At the very end of the second floor hallway was a door, which Raymonde opened. We walked into a spacious sitting room. Off to the left was a large bedroom and on the right, a tiny bathroom. We sat down on a small love seat. I was suddenly pressed up against Raymonde.
"I like this sofa, don't you?" she said innocently.
"Yes. It's very, uhm, very cozy."
"That is what I thought. Cozy," she replied, her eyes smouldering.
"Do you think your mother will be up soon?"
She slapped me lightly, a fleeting smile on her lips. "Spoilsport."
As I smiled back, I realised her mother might reveal key information. I just couldn't conceive of not recording it. I pulled out my glasses once more, trying to slip them on surreptitiously.
"Why are you putting on those ugly glasses again?" she questioned.
"I, uhm, I will need them to see your mother clearly. What's the problem? They don't look that bad, do they?"
"I'm sorry to say this but it's for your own good. You don't look good in those glasses. Not at all."
Keeping the camera-in-the-eyeglasses thing a secret might not have been a good idea. At least, my friends hadn't tried to connect as soon as the glasses were turned on. "I understand, Raymonde, but it's important I not miss a single nuance of your mother's expressions."
She maintained a doubtful look but was prevented from arguing further by her mother, who came in through the door, another case of excellent timing. "Sorry my dears, it took longer than expected," she apologized, seating herself in a comfortable-looking red chair, her eyes briefly glancing at my glasses. "Now let's start at the beginning. What happened this morning? How did you two meet?"
Mrs Leblanc had gone right for the jugular. Raymonde was quick to respond. "You remember last night, when you first introduced me to Paul? Yes? Well, a little later, I went out of my room when he was coming out of his. He was bothered, explaining about a letter he had seen on the desk, when he was in Grand-Papa's office. He thought he knew who the author of that letter was, so I brought him back to the office to look at it again. We confirmed he was right and decided to talk about it over breakfast."
"Who wrote the letter?" asked Mrs Leblanc.
"It was Adolf Hitler," replied Raymonde.
If I had been expecting a big reaction, I was disappointed.
"Adolf Hitler? How curious. What happened after that?"
"While we were eating, Paul noticed a man at a table next to ours, spying on us. He had followed Paul here from the Mairie, after refusing him access to old town documents. We left quickly to get away from him. That was why I didn't leave you a note."
"I know who you're talking about. It's Jacques Vallin."
"Excuse me, but did you say Vallin?" I asked.
"Yes, one of two, unfortunately, and not a thought between the both of them. Two brothers, one small, the other large, neither exactly honest," she answered. "I wondered why he rented a room here last night. After all, he lives just down the road."
What was a Vallin doing following me? He knew something. Despite the span of time, this descendant of Old Man Vallin had placed himself in the exact position to effect his own research. "This Vallin name is familiar. In 1911, someone killed his ancestor, Old Man Vallin. It cannot be coincidence that, almost a hundred years later, his great-grandson is actively pur
suing his own quest to uncover the Etretat mystery. That is why we must ask you what happened when the Germans invaded Etretat and you were forced to escape with your grandfather."
Raymonde looked a little nervous when I broached the subject so directly but her mother took it calmly. "It is all right, Raymonde. I know you tread lightly where certain topics are concerned. However, I am not as fragile as you might think. For many years, I have reviewed those dreadful events. You must understand, I was very young and don't remember anything clearly, though I was aware something bad was going on. People were scared, angry! Papa was gone, had been gone for a while, and Grand-Papa was taking care of my sister and me. One day, Grand-Papa was there with a small valise for himself and an even smaller one for both of us. We threw in a few things, my favourite blanket, my sister's teddy bear, and some clothes. Grand-papa was crying and trying to hide it. My sister and I were very scared. We stayed quiet and did as we were told. Grand-papa took us to a man waiting with a horse and wagon. I didn't know his name but I had seen him before. We got on the wagon. 'We are going on a little trip to visit some friends', Grand-papa said.
"He gave us cookies and goat milk. Along the road, we saw hundreds of people walking, carrying everything they owned on their shoulders, in their bags, their suitcases, their boxes. Many were crying openly. Both my sister and I were crying. Grand-papa hugged us a lot and tried to make us feel better.
"No fires were allowed at night and we often travelled in the dark, staying on narrow roads in forested areas. I heard some bombs far away once, and, on another occasion, a plane swooped right over, having come up from behind. Finally, after many days we arrived in Perpignan. Grand-papa shook the driver's hand for a long time, saying a few words to him. I never saw the driver again. We walked the rest of the way, Grand-Papa leading us by the hand until we arrived at a tall house on the outskirts of Perpignan.
"That is where we stayed until he died," she said, her eyes far away. "He was unwell, you see, and the long trip had taken its toll. He hid it well, kept up a brave front for his 'little girls'. A few days before the end, he got better, or seemed to. He left us in the care of our friends and went out for the day, carrying a small leather satchel, much like the one you have, Paul. When he came back, he was very tired and did not have the satchel anymore. That night was the last time I sat with him, by the fireplace in our small apartment. He looked sad and concerned, saying many things. Not much made sense, not to my five-year-old mind anyway. He talked about someone who worried him very much. Something was his fault and he had tried to fix it. I have only one clear memory of that night.
"He took me upon his knee and, holding my two small hands in his, taught me a little song. He asked me to always remember it and to tell it to my children when the time was right. I guess this must be that time. It is a silly song, really, more of a ditty."
'The beginning and the end
Follow the circle, it bends.
The end and the beginning,
The answer in the connecting.'
"We sang it many times. He told me one day the song would mean something more," she finished, her voice fading away.
Her little ditty, the song taught by her grandfather, was exactly the same message from my father. How had these identical verses travelled the continents, over a century ago, ending up with both our families? "We need to go to Perpignan."
"Why do you say that?" asked Raymonde.
"It's the ditty, the song, the beginning is the end. Maurice Leblanc's end was in Perpignan so that is where we have to go. To the place of his end, to see if any clues were left. I'm very curious about what he could have done during the day he disappeared. What was in the satchel he took with him? Why did he choose Perpignan as a destination?"
Mrs Leblanc had an insight, "I might shed some light on a few of those questions. During that time, everything was chaos. There were few places safe from the invading Germans. Perpignan was close to Spain and relatively unimportant strategically. Perpignan was also home to several of Grand-papa's old friends. On the day he left, he may have gone to visit one of them, to pass on the satchel. It contained a journal of some sort. I have memories of Grand-Papa leaning over a sheaf of papers by the dim light of a candle. I do not know who he could have gone to visit, unfortunately. I only know the address where we lived in Perpignan."
She picked up a pad of notepaper and jotted down an address. "There is a chance someone may remember him. He was famous enough in his time. Now I am afraid I will have to bid you both a good night, as I am feeling tired," she said, her voice shaky. After a quick hug, we agreed to meet for breakfast in the morning.
Walking along the hallway, it became apparent Raymonde was leading me to her room. My glasses suddenly squeaked and I was looking at Fabian Coulter. "Hey, Paul, where have you been? We've been trying to connect with you. Say, who's that walking ahead of you? She looks familiar."
I reached up and turned the techno-glasses off without saying a single word. This situation was complicated enough. I removed the glasses and slipped them into my pocket as Raymonde opened her door. The room was similar to my own, with a large bed against the wall to the left of the door. An alcove with large windows nestled two chairs and a small coffee table. We sat down there. "This has certainly been an eventful day."
She smiled, her whole face lighting up."I feel as if I am in a whirlwind but that is the way I like it. And the way I like you," she added, her hand reaching out to grasp mine. "I must ask you something." She peered questioningly into my eyes and I nodded. "When Maman told us about Grand-Papa's little song, I thought you were holding something back. Were you?"
How had she picked that up? "Yes, I did hold something back. If you remember, I explained about the note my father gave me when I was nine. I may not have told you the exact wording of that note but don`t worry, I don't have to tell you, because your mother just told us."
Raymonde was stunned.
"That's right. Impossibly, that little ditty found its way into our two separate families, almost a hundred years ago. When you and I were walking together at the Fort of Frefosse site, I believed my father's gift had led me to you but now, I'm not so sure. How could that ditty have come to be in both our families? I didn't want to burden your mother with that question. It would have been too much. She already looked shaken, despite her strong words."
Raymonde walked around the small table and pulled me into her arms. We kissed, a long lingering kiss, filled with passion. "That was a nice thing to do. I had to say thank you somehow," she whispered.
She moved to her bed, leaning back into the pillows. "You weren't thinking of going back to your room right away, were you?"
"Uhm, no, not at all." I lay down on the bed, my body close to hers. I leaned on my right arm, looking down at her, then bent down and kissed her again, with a yearning growing by the second. No matter what else might come, I had already found my true treasure.
***
I woke next morning, vivid flashes of the entire night running through my mind. I felt rested, though I had not slept many hours. Raymonde was lying next to me, still sleeping. I couldn't believe I had ended up here, with her. She stirred, waking up. Pulling an arm out from under the sheet, she touched my chest tenderly.
"Good morning," she said, a bit shyly. "I'm glad you stayed the night."
"I'm not sure I had any choice. You were irresistible. I certainly didn't expect for things to develop this quickly but I'm happy they did."
"Me too. I have never been attracted to anyone so rapidly before. You are not the type of man I am used to. You are quite odd, you know. The funny thing is that I like it. I don't know where this is going between us..."
"Don't worry about that. How about we simply focus on this mystery? Let's not make it too complicated. I know I'm extremely happy being here and want to spend as much time with you as possible."
"I couldn't have said it better. Now let's get showered, we have to meet Maman downstairs soon."
Raymond
e slid out from the sheets, slipping a bathrobe over her voluptuous body, and headed for the shower. I collected my clothes, intent on going to my room, to update my friends on the Internet. Her voice stopped me as I passed the bathroom. "And just where do you think you are going? Aren't you coming in for a shower?"
On second thought, my Internet friends could stew in their ignorance a little bit longer.
***
After our breakfast, Raymonde's mother joined us for coffee, having been delayed by work at the front desk. Her knowing eye noticed our little looks and touches and she drew the obvious conclusion. After a short conversation, it was time to leave for Perpignan. We said our good-byes and headed off.
I still had not found a single moment to update my friends back home, having been without privacy since last night. I wasn't complaining but my three nosy friends were likely to be full of time-taking questions, time I did not have. They would simply have to wait. I would connect with them as soon as I could. Additionally, Raymonde was getting suspicious of my glasses. Her comments about my 'dorky' appearance didn't fool me for a second. She knew something was up and I had to be extremely careful not to be found out. This tiny little deception was producing some seriously unanticipated complications. Now, all I could do was to follow through and hope for the best.
We took off down the Rue de Maupassant, setting the GPS destination to Orleans, planning to travel directly across France towards Perpignan. I set the cruise control at a leisurely hundred and ten kilometre an hour, following the directions on the screen. While travelling, Raymonde's conversation drifted from small talk to a more serious topic.
"I feel so strange, travelling with a man I did not know a few days ago, now my lover, heading toward the very thing I came back to confront. Everything feels like it is changing. I am a little afraid but not enough to stop myself from going on."