Page 48 of Love in the Shadows

Johanna shook her head – whether in disbelief or disgust, Fabienne couldn’t tell. “We have enough to spare. I’ll go and fill a basket.”

Fabienne caught her arm as she turned away. “You are taking a big risk. If your husband finds out, you…”

Johanna glanced towards the woman on the couch. “I know what I’m doing, Fabienne. He has gone to his room. The next I’ll see him will be tomorrow evening.”

Fabienne sighed and let her go. She worried that Johanna wasn’t truly aware of what she was getting herself into, and more importantly for all concerned, whether she could carry it off. If she faltered, she would get them killed.

Mamie arrived with four blankets and a pillow. “This is all we have.”

Fabienne took them. “It will do.”

Mamie glanced around. “Where’s Frau Neumann?”

“She has gone to get wood so we can fire up the stove.” She laid the blankets over the woman.

Mamie set the pillow under the woman’s head. She felt her brow. “She’s so cold.”

“She is one of the prisoners, Mamie. I tried to help her. God knows how she found her way here. She must have been wandering around for the past three days.”

“There were reports of another twenty-six being caught today,” Mamie said. “They were executed at the side of the road.” Her eyes watered as she spoke. “That makes a hundred and eighty-three so far.”

With that number dead, and the thirty French men and women they had murdered in retribution for the German soldiers, could they consider the mission a success? “That means more than sixty women and children still have a chance. You know what will happen to them if they are sent to the camps. They are being gassed.”

It was impossible to know how many prisoners had been on the train. Their information had said two-hundred and thirty-six, but she was sure there had been closer to three hundred. They had been rammed into the cattle-cars more tightly than cows heading to the slaughterhouse. It was inhumane beyond imagination.

The woman on the couch was paler than she had been that night, the rings under her eyes darker, her cheeks sunken into deep hollows. It was a miracle she was still alive, though for how long?

The back door opened, and Johanna entered the kitchen.

“I’ll get the stove going,” Fabienne said.

“Is it the woman from the train?” Johanna asked as Fabienne started the fire.

“Yes.” Fabienne filled the kettle and put it on the stove, along with a large flat stone. “A drink?” She pulled a bottle of brandy from the cupboard and three glasses and poured before Johanna answered. She handed her a glass and took another through to Mamie. She returned, drank hers and refilled her glass. “We are in great danger.” She lit a cigarette and offered one to Johanna.

Johanna opened out Fabienne’s hand and touched the inside of her fingers, studied the healing wounds. “I was worried. How’s your arm?” She let Fabienne go and took a cigarette.

The tenderness of her touch melted something inside Fabienne. She had to resist these feelings that obscured the truth. Life was hard enough without the complications that came with loving someone you had a high chance of losing one way or another. She would be stupid to think any differently. “I’ll be back to work at the house tomorrow,” she said.

The unspoken message that passed between them spoke of a different future. A dream.

Fabienne shook her head. “We can’t—”

“How can I help?” Johanna said, cutting her off sharply. She drank the brandy and drew down hard on the cigarette. Her teeth chattered. She moved closer to the stove. “I mean it.”

Fabienne held her gaze. “Do you have any idea what you are getting into?”

Johanna held out her glass, and Fabienne refilled it. “Would you have left her there to die?”

Fabienne took a smoke and exhaled slowly. “That’s different.”

“Why? Because I’m German, Fabienne?” Johanna gritted her teeth.

Fabienne shook her head. There were French people doing the Germans’ dirty work too. It wasn’t that; it was… She didn’t know what it was. Fabienne was used to saving people; Johanna was naïve. “You could have told your husband, and she would have been shot. You came here, and if she survives the night, we will do our best to get her to safety.”

Johanna held her hands close to the surface of the stove. “God, I feel so fucking inadequate.”

Johanna swearing for the first time drew a smile from Fabienne. The kettle started to hum. Fabienne took a pot from the cupboard and made acorn coffee.