Page 81 of Summer of Fire
Lizzie retrieved her bicycle, jumped onto the seat, and peddled like her life depended on it.
CHAPTER 37
Lizzie watched the farm from the cover of the trees. It was pitch black and past curfew as she listened for every sound.
The silence was loud, and her heartbeat seemed to reverberate through her whole body.
Where was Jack? The question looped on repeat through her mind as she stood there, watching for him, praying he would turn the corner and enter the yard at any moment.
She had seen Pierre arrive alone a short while earlier and watched him enter the farmhouse. Her SOE training told her she needed to be sure he hadn’t been followed.
After what seemed an eternity, she emerged from her hiding place and walked quietly across the yard. She was still dazed from poisoning the general, and she wondered if the panic would ever ease. She couldn’t believe she had murdered someone.
Lizzie tapped on the door. She heard low voices and the shuffling of a chair and then Pierre appeared in the doorway, looking even more dishevelled than usual.
‘Thank God,’ he said. ‘I thought they must have caught you.’
He stood aside for her to enter, and she moved into the kitchen towards Camille, who opened her arms and embraced Lizzie tearfully. ‘I was so worried,’ she said.
In the short time they had known each other, they had grown as close as if they’d been friends for years. Lizzie hugged her and held back her own tears. She couldn’t break down.
Lizzie told them she’d had to kill the general because her cover was blown.
‘Your first?’ Pierre asked, his voice soft.
Lizzie nodded.
‘We are on our own front line here. Try not to be too hard on yourself. You are a soldier, and in war, soldiers must kill before the enemy kills them.’
Camille made them tea and Lizzie’s eyes kept straying to the clock.
Still no Jack.
‘He should be here by now,’ she said, her voice strained.
Pierre nodded. ‘We all went in different directions in case one of us was caught. They will have closed off the roads and be combing the area by now.’
Lizzie closed her eyes as if she could avoid seeing images spilling into her mind.
Pierre touched her arm. ‘Jack knows what to do. He’ll be lying low somewhere if he can’t get through. The chances are he won’t come back tonight.’
Lizzie nodded, but she was still clinging onto the hope that he would appear at the door, and all would be well.
‘What of the others?’ Lizzie asked.
Pierre shook his head. ‘We won’t know for a while. Or should I say, if one of them has been captured, we will know soon enough.’
‘Forty-eight hours,’ Lizzie said, as if reciting the name of a poem.
‘If they can hold out that long under Gestapo torture, it will be a miracle. Probably more like forty-eight minutes. But yes, that’s what we commit to each other. That we will do everything in our power to hold out for two days, revealing no names or safe houselocations,’ Pierre said.
Lizzie was stalling, knowing she should leave already, but she couldn’t bring herself to go without waiting longer for Jack.
‘Lizzie, we must set off now. The roads will be blocked after the attack, but I will take you on the farm track.’
‘No, thank you. I don’t want you to endanger yourself anymore tonight,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’m grateful, but I will find my own way. It’s the same pickup point as where I came in last time.’
Pierre laughed softly. ‘Jack would kill me if I let you go alone, so that’s out of the question. If it makes you feel any better, we are due a drop of equipment, so I must come and collect it, anyway.’
