HIDDEN (Marchwood Vampire Series #1)

Chapter Four

 Chapter Four - 1881

Inside the Gare du Nord, a cold March light washed down through a massive glazed arch onto the hoards of passengers. Among them, Alexandre and his family stood in the Salle de Depart, waiting to board the sleeper train from Paris to the Port of Marseille.

Papa went off to locate their platform and soon returned to guide them towards a large black steam train which hissed and blew on the line. They found their first class carriage easily enough, their name written on a piece of stiff card attached to the door.

Other passengers squeezed past them in the corridor and Alexandre eyed them with interest, wondering what their stories were and whether he would have the chance to converse with any of them. The rest of his family bustled about inside their compartment, stowing away bags and removing overcoats.

‘Come in, Alexandre,’ his mother chided. ‘Why are you standing out there? You are blocking the way for the other passengers.’

‘Sorry, Maman,’ he replied and entered their compartment.

‘But where are we to sleep?’ Isobel asked.

‘It has only just turned four o’clock, Isobel. You do not need to worry about that just yet,’ Papa teased.

‘Tell us more of Turkey, Papa,’ Jacques said.

‘Let us remove our outer garments and make ourselves comfortable first. We have a long train ride ahead of us.’

Before long, they were snugly ensconced in their first class compartment, all coats and bags stowed away under their seats.

Doors slammed, the whistle blew and great clouds of steam wheeshed into the icy afternoon air. The carriage lurched backwards unsteadily and then, with more confidence, rocked forwards and away, out of the station, leaving behind the great iron roof of the Gare du Nord.

The soft rhythmic puffing of the train took Alexandre and his family northwards through the grimy Parisian suburbs until they were outside the city. And then it curved back round onto the main line that would take them south to the sea and beyond.

They travelled down the tracks through woods of pine and larch. They climbed hills and steamed through tunnels hollowed out of the soft limestone. Over bridges and viaducts they steadily made their way southwards. Through mirror-black windows Alexandre stared out into the rapidly growing gloom at the smudged outlines of smoking cottage chimneys until at last night finally fell and their train was a lone speeding light through the dark French countryside.

Supper on the train turned out to be quite a lavish affair. The Chevaliers were shown to their table where they chatted and sipped aperitifs.

‘I cannot believe it will actually be warm in Turkey. The weather is so vile here,’ Isobel said, tasting her drink.

‘Do not forget it will still be cold at night,’ Papa replied.

‘If we are lucky, it will be warm in Marseille too,’ Maman added.

‘Do stop talking about the weather and tell us of all the exciting discoveries we shall make in Turkey,’ Jacques said.

‘How can Papa tell us that, when we haven’t even discovered them yet.’ Isobel rolled her eyes.

‘Is it really true you do not yet know what lies in Cappadocia? That you have no idea what manner of artefacts we are going to uncover?’ Alexandre asked his parents.

‘Monsieur Bouvier has made me and your mother sign a letter of confidentiality. But I can tell you this much – you will not be disappointed.’