Page 25 of Summer of Fire
‘I don’t know of a Sophie Duval,’ the café proprietor said, scrunching up his unruly bushy eyebrows as he tried to figure out where she was staying.
Lizzie brushed him off, saying her friend had not lived in the area for long before the war. She avoided any further conversation and took her coffee to a table near the window. Perhaps she would have better luck by being visible to passers-by.
One thing was certain—she couldn’t keep coming in here indefinitely without attracting unwanted attention. Jack hadsaid he hoped she would meet the contact on the first or second day. He explained there were several potential contacts who were part of the early Resistance movement in Reims, and they had all worked with Hannah.
Now it was the fourth day, and Jack’s orders were for her to leave France that night at the latest,no matter what.
Her lack of success disappointed Lizzie, and she didn’t want to give up. She wished she could talk it over with Jack, but that was impossible. It seemed like a dreadful waste to leave now she was here.
Only the café proprietor had shown any interest in her. Oh, except for the German soldier, she reminded herself. She mustn’t run into him again, either. Reims was a small city, so she had to be wary of meeting the same people.
Lizzie sat at the small table in the window watching the sun edge lower in the pink sky along with her sinking spirits, knowing she must leave soon.
It was a long walk back to the cottage and Jeanne had warned her not to risk the streets after curfew. She told her that the French Police had arrested a colleague from work the previous week when she was spotted on the street a few minutes after curfew began. The woman hadn’t been seen since. Lizzie rose from the table, feeling beaten.
That night she lay on the bed fully clothed like the day she arrived,ready to go cross country to the pickup spot where she would meet the plane that would transport her back to London.
Jack was very clear. ‘We will come for you on the third and fourth nights. Try to make it by the third, but youmustcome on the fourth even if you haven’t been able to make contact with the Resistance. It is far too risky to stay any longer.’
She didn’t want to return without completing her mission, but she had to follow Jack’s orders even though sheknew he would be so disappointed when she returned empty-handed. He was desperate for news of Hannah and said the intelligence from Germany could make all the difference in the battle to stop Hitler invading England.
Lizzie had envisaged bringing Hannah back with her to safety in London, along with the intelligence she had gathered.
Jeanne told her there were sinister whispers about Jews in Germany being herded onto trains. Her Resistance friends said there was something evil happening in Germany and Poland in what they called concentration camps. But when Lizzie probed for more details about Hannah, the courageous agent, Jeanne fell silent.
Lizzie reached the edge of the pasture and heard the comforting hum of an aircraft approaching. It was circling low in the dark sky, and she could see the rough outline by the shadowy light of the moon. She was about to switch her torch on and signal to the plane like they had taught her at SOE, when she heard rustling noises and loud voices in the distance.
Lizzie moved swiftly into a thicket, and slipped behind a bush where she stood frozen, her heart clattering. She worried the men would hear her as they approached.
German voices. There were three men in uniform, and as their voices grew louder, she grew rigid with terror. They stopped and loitered nearby, and she recognised the German word for aircraft and saw them looking up and pointing at the sky as if they were playing a game.
Lizzie dared not breathe whilst the soldiers chatted and smoked. Then one of the men moved further into the pasture and brandished a pistol. He aimed it at the plane and fired two shots. The loud noise reverberated through the quietcountryside, and she thought her heart would stop as she hid behind the bush, trying not to move or make the slightest sound.
The other soldiers watched and laughed as they called out to the shooter in a torrent of excited German Lizzie couldn’t catch. As far as she could see, the shots didn’t hit the aircraft, and it swooped and ascended back into the beautiful starry sky until it vanished from view.
Lizzie’s one connection to London—and Jack—disappeared. The Germans had observed her pickup point, whether by luck or design, she did not know.
But she was stuck in occupied France with no way out.
CHAPTER 12
Lizzie woke and went downstairs to find Jeanne, who rose at dawn, brewing coffee.
‘Sit down, and tell me exactly what happened,’ Jeanne said when she saw her guest appear in the doorway.
Lizzie had stumbled back to the cottage in the middle of the night, and Jeanne was surprised by her return. Lizzie explained briefly that the pickup had been aborted, and they had both flopped into bed exhausted, promising to catch up first thing.
The coffee helped revive Lizzie, and she told Jeanne about the soldiers shooting at the plane.
Jeanne snorted. ‘Sales Nazis!’
Lizzie shuddered at the thought of how close she had come to being caught by the German soldiers.
‘You are a brave girl,’ Jeanne said. ‘Your parents will be proud of you.’
‘I did the only thing I could,’ Lizzie said.
‘Trust me, if you did the only thing you could, you wouldn’t be in France in these terrible times.’
