Page 35 of Love in the Shadows

Madame wouldn’t need them for a while since her injuries would prevent her from working in the foreseeable future. The schoolmaster had offered Madame a room in his house in the meantime. She would at least have the illusion of his protection, which was better than nothing at all, and if she stayed indoors, Müller might even assume she had died in the fire. He was unlikely to be bothered to check. And, anyway, concealing Madame was a short-term problem because within a few days Müller would no longer be a threat to anyone.

It gave Fabienne huge satisfaction to use Madame’s smallest knife now to cut into small pieces the brown webcap mushrooms that would stop Müller for good. She put them in the pot on the stove with the garlic and wild onions and added a little water. The basket of wild mushrooms she’d also picked earlier sat on the kitchen surface, ready to take across to the house, where she would make the safe version of the soup for the kommandant’s dinner guests.

“Are you sure about this?” Mamie asked.

Fabienne had never been more certain. “The main symptoms will take days or even weeks to show and it will be impossible to trace anything back to the mushrooms. They will think he died of the flu, or some alcohol-related disease. God knows he drinks like a hungry pig eats.”

Mamie sighed. “I pray you are right.”

Fabienne took the cooked webcap mushrooms from the stove and tipped the small portion into a cup and set it inside the basket. Mamie took Fabienne’s hand and massaged it with a tenderness that spoke of sorrow, though Fabienne had hardened since losing her parents. Still, there was always a tug from inside the emptiness. She couldn’t think about the consequences of failure, only about what she must do to help those who couldn’t help themselves, like Madame.

“Nancy will come to the house later, at around nine-thirty. I will offer to manage the kitchen so that you can get away.” Mamie started washing the pan. “I suppose Nancy will have Cleo for company when you go back out again.” She looked towards Fabienne. “She will ask questions.”

The kitten wasn’t going to be any help protecting Nancy, but it would be a distraction and a comfort. “Cleo will entertain her until she falls asleep. She is used to us not being there and if she thinks it’s a bit of a game, she won’t worry too much. She knows I have deliveries to make at odd times of the day. She will be fine, and they should be finished with the meal by eleven-thirty, so you’ll be back then.”

“Nothing is ever that simple, Fabienne.” Mamie sighed.

“But it’s better that we are trying to help rather than doing nothing. I could never live with myself if I just sat back and waited for the end of the war. We owe it to the people we’ve lost to fight in their memory.”

Mamie stroked her cheek. “I know. I am proud of you, but I am also afraid you will—”

“No.” Fabienne drew her close and kissed her forehead. “Don’t think that. I believe we make a difference and that is what matters,” she whispered.

She had helped twenty-six escapees to cross the border in the last year. She hoped that would count for something, but she wanted to do more, and rescuing the Jews on the train was exactly that. Mamie’s eyes were glassy with tears when she pulled away from her.

“And now Nancy is involved,” Mamie said.

Fabienne had wanted to keep her cousin away from everything to keep her safe, and if there had been another way she would have taken it. “Does she know the truth?”

“I told her you were tired and needed a break and they wouldn’t give you one because of the guests coming, so she’s going to pretend she is very ill and needs one of us with her.”

They had to have a good reason for Fabienne to be released from her duties during their Good Friday dinner, even though Mamie could manage the kitchen perfectly well on her own. The German officers wouldn’t want a sick child anywhere near them, they were paranoid about getting ill, and there wasn’t anyone else who could take care of Nancy. “If Frau Neumann refuses to let me go, I’ll sneak out,” she said. “Will you be okay to tell them I took Nancy to the doctor before curfew and that I will be back?”

“And if they go to the house to check?”

“They won’t.” She didn’t know for certain, but she had to hope that the dinner would take their attention away from the annoyance of a sick French child. “As long as they are being well fed and entertained. Plenty of wine and brandy will help.”

“And we will pay the price later,” Mamie said.

Fabienne couldn’t look at her because the honesty stirred up thoughts and feelings that she worked so hard to suppress. “Frau Neumann isn’t like the officers. I don’t think she’s a pacifist, but I don’t think that she supports the war either.” She had been kind to them, protected them as best she could from Müller, and allowed Nancy to play with Astrid. She loved her daughter and challenged her husband. Fabienne was as convinced as she could be that Frau Neumann would not deliberately cause them any trouble.

Mamie poured a small glass of milk. “She doesn’t appear to be, but you can never be sure, Fabienne.” She started towards the door. “I’ll just take this to Nancy.”

Fabienne nodded.

Being in Frau Neumann’s company made Fabienne feel something that was neither simple to explain nor easy to argue against. She recalled Maurice asking if the kommandant’s wife was hot. She had laughed at the time, and he had made the point about desire not following the rules of war. Hearts didn’t know the rules either, it seemed. She’d needed to get close to Frau Neumann to do her job, but she wanted to be close to her because of how she felt about her.

She should detest her for being German, but if she did that it would make her no better than Hitler who hated people for being Jewish, or communist, or homosexual, or just for being different than the Nazi perception of how people should be and live.

Fabienne wouldn’t have thought of herself as naturally fitting into the Resistance movement before the war, she’d been a simple farmer who worked the land to produce food, and yet she had slotted into her role as if it were second nature. The losses she had known would always be with her, but she held Hitler and the Reich responsible for them, not Frau Neumann just because she was married to a German commander.

Can you ever be sure of anyone? the voice in her head asked.

War had taught her that events changed people, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worst. Everyone did what they must to survive. Everyone. She was convinced Frau Neumann was vehemently opposed to the war, or at least to the cruelty that the German soldiers were inflicting. But could she be trusted?

Mamie returned to the kitchen. “She is giving the milk to Cleo,” she said, and smiled. “Bless her.”

Fabienne went back to her rambling thoughts.

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