Page 29 of Summer of Fire
‘Of course, sir,’ Jack said, relief flooding through him.
Val said, ‘Have you any idea how to get the girls out of France?’
‘I do,’ Jack said. ‘Obviously we can’t risk using the same place to land. For all we know, the Gestapo are patrolling the area every night after the botched pickup. Thank goodness the safe house is a considerable distance away. I’m hoping Seagrove is still staying there, but we’ll need to search for Hannah. She can’t be there, or we would have heard from her by now.’
‘Tell me, you’re not suggesting what I think you are,’ Val said, who had a soft spot for Jack, and looked worried.
He raised one dark eyebrow. ‘That will depend on what you think I’m suggesting.’
‘For heaven’s sake, man. Out with it, then,’ his boss exclaimed, not known for his patience or his tact. ‘Some of us have other meetings to attend.’
A hazy plan had formed in Jack’s mind just as the early golden light filtered through the blackout blinds when he awoke from a few snatched hours of unsatisfying sleep.
It was a wonder he’d been able to sleep at all after returning on the plane without Lizzie. Only sheer bodily and mental exhaustion had allowed him to drift off. His last thought before sleep took him was that he was responsible for Lizzie and Hannah, and he had let them down. The price of war troubled his conscience and seeped into his dreams.
‘Here’s what I’m thinking,’ he said, and his boss and Val leaned closer as he sketched out the bare bones of his plan.
CHAPTER 14
‘Ibought it in Paris,’ Lizzie said carefully, her heart slamming against her chest as she pretended to browse the newspaper.
The woman said quietly, ‘It’s too dangerous here. Meet me inside the cathedral tomorrow at noon. Wear the yellow scarf.’
Lizzie didn’t reply, but when the woman stood up to leave, they exchanged a brief look, and she turned the page of the newspaper like it was the most absorbing thing she had ever read.
The woman disappeared as quickly as she arrived and when Lizzie looked up a few minutes later, there was no trace of her.
Lizzie’s heart gradually slowed from its manic thud. She waited five minutes and then lay the newspaper aside and left the café. Every now and then she checked she wasn’t being followed, using shop windows like she had been taught in her training.
As she walked down a narrow lane on the outskirts of the city, she noticed a short man wearing a cap watching her.There was nothing unusual about his attire, especially near the vineyards, but she was suspicious of everyone. When she turned back again, she saw him limping in the other direction.
This was what it was like to live in the shadows. Always alert and always on the edge of danger.
As she left the city, she felt like she was walking on air. Something important had finally happened, and she had met a real-life member of the Resistance. Her visit wasn’t for nothing and now she would be an asset, instead of returning to London like a failure who had wasted SOE’s time. And Jack’s.
Lizzie realised with a jolt, that more than anything, she yearned to make Jack proud of her. She shook her head impatiently, as if to dismiss the thought, condemning herself for being shallow and vain.
There were much bigger things at play, like winning the war and freeing France from the yoke of Nazi oppression. And here she was fantasising about Jack praising her for saving the day like some silly young girl.
Nevertheless, his face loomed in her mind all the way back to the cottage, and she wondered what he was doing. Was he worried about her? Lizzie had fallen for him in a way she hadn’t expected. There had been a semi-serious boyfriend in Jersey, but their relationship fizzled out months before she left for London. Thinking about her childhood sweetheart, she hoped he was safe and wished him well, but she had no regrets.
The thought of seeing Jack again filled her with wild joy. He was much older than her, and she suspected he was in love with Hannah, but she couldn’t help her feelings. Could she?
She remembered her mother telling her during one of their heart-to-heart chats when they meandered along thebeach at Seagrove, that you don’t get to choose who you fall in love with. She thought her mother was right because Jack was unsuitable in so many ways.
Lizzie didn’t know exactly what he had done before the war, but he had mentioned undercover work. Some men, like her father were called up for the war effort and had completely different careers in peacetime. Her father planned to return to his law practice when this was over. Her brother Archie would do the same—she daren’t imagine any other outcome.
Lizzie didn’t allow herself to entertain the dark thoughts that were so easy to get lost in when she thought of her loved ones far away. If she let herself think about anything bad happening to her family, she wouldn’t be able to function.
Since she arrived in Reims, she hadn’t slept for more than a few hours at a time. Lizzie did her best to stay calm by planning what she would do next, and not allowing herself to worry about what could so easily go wrong. If she thought deeply about what she was doing in occupied France, she would panic and that was no use to anyone.
I’ll find a way to get home safely once I’ve met with the Resistance.
Jeanne had told her she was welcome to stay for as long as she needed, until she could make new arrangements. Lizzie thought that Jeanne rather liked having her at the cottage for company, but she was in awe of how brave she was to risk harbouring British agents. The punishment for Resistance members was torture and death if the Gestapo found out what she was doing.
Lizzie tapped twice on the kitchen door and entered the cottage. ‘Jeanne, I’m back,’ she called but there was no reply. Lizzie made herself a cup of tea and sat at the kitchen table to rest after the long walk.
Jeanne had left for work on her bicycle that morning soshe mustn’t have finished her shift yet. Lizzie didn’t know Jeanne’s schedule, but it was pleasant to sit quietly alone in the safety of the cottage. Only now, when she relaxed into the chair, did she realise what an ordeal the day had been. She was exhausted from being ready to spring into action at any moment.
