Page 81 of Love in the Shadows

Johanna stroked her face, studying her, keeping her thoughts to herself, though looking more sombre now.

Fabienne pulled her down and kissed her tenderly. She would make love to Johanna again with every ounce of her heart and soul, so they would always remember this time.

Who knew what tomorrow would bring.

33.

JOHANNA HAD TOSSED AND turned in bed, listening to the battle raging for hours.

The gunshots were closer, the explosions louder. It was all more concentrated than previously. Judging by how long it had gone on, no matter who had won, there couldn’t have been that much firepower without a lot of casualties. The only reason she’d been able to sleep at all was because Fabienne was safely in her own bed in the cottage, and the memory of their lovemaking had helped her to relax for the first time in a long time.

There was a constant rumble of armoured vehicles coming from the main road, and now troops marched in formation behind them. The horrors of the previous evening had created an apocalyptic effect on the morning, as if every soldier had abandoned his post and was heading to the northern front. She’d expected calm after the battle, but what she saw and what she felt as the house trembled under the heavy vibration from the tanks and trucks was a catastrophe in the making. Was it the continuation of the grand offensive her husband had mentioned? Had Germany succeeded in Operation Dijon?

She went downstairs and made coffee. Her stomach tightened as she considered how many Resistance fighters might have died trying to save their countrymen. Her heart skipped a beat when Fabienne entered the kitchen and smiled at her as if the war had ended. God, how she loved her.

“It’s busy out there,” Fabienne said. She drew down on the cigarette she was smoking. “I spoke to Father Paul this morning.”

Johanna wanted to hit her for being so flippant, for risking her life after all that they had been through in the last few days, and after Johanna had promised not to leave her. She couldn’t bear to think of losing Fabienne. “Are you insane, going out there now?”

“I had the milk run to do.” She grinned. “Don’t you want to know the news?”

“I can see it from my window. It’s a massive offensive, by the look of it.” She poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Fabienne who took the drink and put it back on the side.

Fabienne took the cup from Johanna and set that down too, then held Johanna’s hands. She was smiling with her eyes and looked much younger.

“The resistance commandeered the trucks that were carrying weapons last night. Six of them, Johanna. Chemical weapons were seized. They took them to the quarry and blew them sky high.” She tugged Johanna into her arms and swept her around in a circle.

“But what about all the tanks and soldiers?”

Fabienne released her and shrugged. “Like last week and the week before. They are going to fight at the front. Father Paul said we stopped a major offensive that probably would have won Germany the war. They were going to use the chemical weapons against the allies. This is a huge blow for them and a massive bonus for us.”

“Oh my God.” Johanna’s hands trembled as she brought them to cover her mouth. “Oh my God, they did it.” She had no idea what would happen now, but every small win for the French was an even bigger victory for freedom. Johanna wanted to dance, but the war wasn’t over yet, and Nanny might come down at any moment. “What do we do next?”

Fabienne sipped her coffee. “We wait for new orders. I don’t know when they will come.” She picked up the wood basket. “Until then, we carry on as usual and hope that things will calm down again.” She went outside.

Johanna walked into the living room, lifted the lid of the piano and started playing “Rondo Alla Turca”.

“That’s one of my favourite pieces,” Fabienne said as she passed through the room with cleaning cloths in her hand.

Johanna didn’t want her cleaning and cooking for them anymore. It felt wrong, inequitable, though she enjoyed having her around the house.

***

Gerhard burst through the front door at half-past three like a raging bull, causing the windows to rattle as he slammed the door behind him.

Johanna came from the kitchen where she’d been helping with the dinner preparations, wiping her hands on a towel. She hadn’t thought twice about the impact of the Resistance’s success on him, but it was evident now.

He threw his hat on the sideboard, his face contorted with rage. He paced the room. “I need a drink.”

She went into the kitchen and instructed Fabienne and Mamie to go home, and grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and a glass. She poured for him, and he drank in one long slug. She filled his glass again, and he drank as if he was parched. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” He motioned to throw the glass but kept it in his hand, landing it heavily on the table as he slumped into his seat. He held his head in his hands, his elbows resting on the table, and rubbed his face.

Johanna went to the kitchen and got another glass, poured herself a wine, and waited for him to speak.

“We lost a convoy of important weapons last night.”

She sat down, crossed her legs and sipped her drink. She didn’t dare say too much in case she incriminated herself. “And they are blaming you again?”

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