Part Three: The Growing Conflict — Chapter 1 - The Barman of the Ritz

PART THREE: THE GROWING CONFLICT

MAY 14, 1941

Winter has been and gone, and with it the first Christmas in occupied Paris.

Days become weeks, become months, and at times it is difficult to remember what life was like before.

The Vichy government has passed a law limiting the consumption of alcohol to Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays; this does not apply at the Ritz, where nothing is prohibited. Business is booming, the tips are good, and Göring has been a little more discreet in his consumption. The ogre has been spending less time in Paris. On both sides of the bar, tempers have calmed.

Frank cannot complain: the Widow leaves him in peace, as does Elmiger. He can run the bar as he pleases and keep a close eye on Georges. The reopening of the racecourse at Auteuil has been a godsend. The Nazis have taken to betting on horses, and Frank has gone back to giving tips, taking bets, and pocketing a little commission on any winnings. It is a longstanding tradition, and no one complains. He has cut Georges in on the deal, so at least they still have that complicity. Despite being a first-class horseman and the son of a colonel in the Prussian cavalry, General von Stülpnagel takes a dim view of gambling. But he turns a blind eye.

Stülpnagel now regularly comes down to the bar. He is a distinguished drinker, though he is lacking in social skills. Weeks after he first arrived, he mistook Cocteau for Guitry. To Stülpnagel, all writers and artists are interchangeable. Cocteau was furious—especially since he had made so much effort to be on German time! Guitry, on the other hand, was delighted by the incident, and Stülpnagel discreetly made amends by buying the two men drinks the following Thursday.

Sometimes, Frank is surprised to find himself thinking that Stülpnagel might make the Occupation almost bearable. A cultured man, he reminds Frank of the many writers and artists who visited the Petit Bar before the German invasion. Frank then immediately remembers Göring, the “status of the Jews,” the terror in Blanche’s eyes, his sleepless nights, and he pulls himself together. While Stülpnagel seems to respect Frank, and Frank is flattered by his attention, he must try hard not to forget that the general is one of the highest-ranking Nazis in France.

Frank thinks about Blanche constantly. Over the winter, when he bumped into her at the Ritz, she was cheerful and relaxed. But he has not seen her now in almost a month.

This morning, the first peonies blooming in Parc Monceau evoked for him the beautiful, delicate features of her face. In another life, who knows, he might have given her a bouquet of them.

Probably best that things are the way they are.