Based off of the film 'Chocolat'
What if Vianne Rocher had a younger sister?
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It's the winter of 1959 when mysterious Vianne, her child Anouk and her young, innocent sister Madeleine arrive in the tranquil French town of Flavigny-sur-Ozerain. No on...
The Compte stands outside the church, welcoming the people in for their weekly sermon. He looks around and notices someone, lying in the dirt, dressed in a blue suit. He strides over to Serge.
"Wonderful. Come on. Up. Come on. Up." He wakes him up as he lifts his body from the dusty ground.
~☆~
Laughter fills the chocolaterie
"His skull can't be as thick as we thought" Armande says as she, Josephine and Vianne reminisce about the previous night. Madeleine sits quietly in the corner, gently touching her throat and wincing as she does so. A huge, unmaskable bruise lies on it; a memory of the pain.
"It was like swatting a fly." Josephine carries Armande's cup of hot chocolate, her hands shaking as she does so. Armande gently takes the cup from her.
"The worst is over" she comforts. "He found out what you're made of."
"So did I" Josephine admits with a shaky laugh. Their conversation is interrupted as Luc enters, clutching his sketch book. Madeleine smiles slightly; she has become rather fond of the young boy.
"How long have we got?" Armande asks him.
"She's at the hairdressers for an hour."
~☆~
"Fuffi? Fuffi." Caroline Clairmont enters the hairdressers. "I'm so sorry, but I have to break the appointment."
"Is something wrong?" Fuffi asks.
"No. I volunteered to distribute these. I promised the Compte I'd have them out by the end of the day." Caroline hands Fuffi one of the leaflets she's holding. She takes it and reads through it.
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"Count me in" she says before going to stick the leaflet on the window of the hairdressers. "Not that I expect them to stop by for a hairstyle."
"It's not just that. The Compte feels we must stand firm. We cannot trust these people. Before you know it, they'll be doing jobs for food. They'll be begging at our doors."
"Not at this door."
"Good, Fuffi, good"
~☆~
"Rub, rub. Rub harder. Rub." Armande is helping Luc to 'stick' a metal spoon to his nose by breathing on it the rubbing. "Rub it. Hard. Keep your head still." Vianne and Josephine smile at them. Madeleine stands in the corner, arms folded, an amused smile playing at the corners of her lips. Luc succeeds and the four women laugh and applaud him. Their happiness is interrupted when Caroline angrily strides into the chocolaterie. Their smiles drop and Luc quickly removes the spoon from his nose. Madeleine tenses, ready for an argument.
"Hello Caroline...If you want to blame someone, blame me...corrupting him with cocoa" Armande says, trying to defend her new-found friends.
"Oh, how dare you mother" Caroline responds, almost sarcastically.
"He's happy. He's fine. Look at him."
"Mama, I-"
"Well, what about you mother? Are you fine? I bet she has conveniently forgotten to tell you-"
"Carol..."
"Why don't you show them, Mother? Are you afraid to? Why don't you show?" Armande stops her and reluctantly pull the skirt of her dress up slightly, revealing large purple bruises. "Insulin shots. She has diabetes, very advanced. She could be blind within a year."
"Yeah couldn't you call me a drug addict? It sounds a lot more glamorous."
"And you!" Caroline glances at the women around the room, her gaze settling on Madeleine as she glares at her. "You sit here feeding her sweets."
"There are worse ways to die."
"Why don't you just give her rat poison? It would be faster."
"Carol has a flair for drama."
"She needs to be in a place where she can be taken care of."
"Le Mortoir? I'd rather be in Hell."
"You may get there mother. Luc, come with me."
"I don't want to-"
"He's happy here" Madeleine rasps. "It's good for him."
"I will decide what is good for my son, Mademoiselle Rocher" Caroline replies spitefully. She helps her son out his coat on before guiding him out. Madeleine looks down, feeling like she's made it worse.
"Give me another" Armande demands, gesturing to her hot chocolate. "It's my life, let me enjoy what's left of it. Fill 'er up."
"Armande why didn't you tell us?" Vianne asks softly.
"Is this a chocolaterie, or is it a confessional?" the old woman questions visciously. She gets up from her stool, grabbing her purse and walking stick. "Don't you dare pity me." With this, she turns and hobbles out of the door.
Josephine notices that Caroline had dropped a piece of paper; a leaflet, across the top, big, bold letters: BOYCOTT IMMORALITY.
Another update! I'm doing well 😁 Next chapter should be up tomorrow (if not tonight) Thanks for reading! ~DoD♡
