Page 35 of Summer of Fire
Later that night, under the faint glow of the moon, Jack’s French boots hit the rough earth in a field on the outskirts of Reims. It was a drop zone they had used a few years ago, and he knew the area well. He hastily buried his equipment behind a derelict shed, secluded by a small copse to one side of the field.
Then he set off to see if the safe house was still safe.
CHAPTER 17
When she saw the soldier lurking on the track, Lizzie reduced the speed she was pedalling and looked from side to side. There was no alternative route. She’d come too far to turn back now without looking suspicious. The soldier was the same one who winked at her so brazenly as he marched past the butcher’s shop.
The blood rushed to Lizzie’s head as she neared him, panic spiralling through her body. Not only was she scared of what he might do to her, but she also had the envelope. The contents were sure to be incriminating and if the soldier opened it, he would know without a doubt she was a British agent.
Her hands shook slightly as fear overwhelmed her. She was breathless as she gripped the handlebars to steady herself and repeated astay calmmantra in her head.
As she moved nearer to the soldier, as slowly as she dared without falling off the wobbling bicycle, he held up one large palm as a clear stop order.
Lizzie stopped abruptly, keeping some distance betweenthem. She raised her face tentatively to meet his eyes and tried to force a respectful smile onto her lips but failed miserably. She was too scared, and it showed.
Lizzie slid off the bicycle and stood on the opposite side, inwardly cursing her awful luck of running into him again.
‘Good afternoon, fräulein,’ he said.
Lizzie nodded. She was proficient in German, but she wasn’t about to let him know. ‘I am going home,’ she said politely, praying he was a gentleman and would step aside and let her pass. Her chest was clamped so tightly she couldn’t get any oxygen.
He moved closer and the only barrier between them was the bicycle. If he wanted, he could reach out and touch her. Lizzie trembled but did her best to maintain her composure and act like she was just naturally apprehensive of being stopped by a German soldier.
He leaned over the bicycle and closed the gap between them until his overpowering smell filled her nostrils. It was an unpleasant mix of sweat and cigarettes, and it tickled Lizzie’s throat, making her want to heave.
‘Oh no, you are not,’ he said, wedging himself against the bicycle so his upper body now touched hers. ‘Follow me, please,’ he ordered.
How was this happening? In all the times she’d gone back and forth to the city via this route, no one had ever stopped her. And now she had information that could not, under any circumstances, fall into German hands without dire consequences. Her parents’ faces flashed into her mind, and she regretted not telling them the truth. They may never see her again and she hadn’t even said a proper goodbye.
Jack would deliver her letter if she didn’t return.
She stood there, unmoving, trying to think of a way out.
‘You know, if you treat me with respect, mademoiselle, we could get on well, you and I,’ he said.
Lizzie’s stomach churned as his rancid breath washed over her.
‘I am expected at home,’ she said, trying to keep her voice pleasant. There was no point antagonising him.
‘Why are you in such a hurry to get away from me? I saw you queueing at the shop for those pitiful rations. I can give you food supplies and even champagne if you’re willing to show me a good time,’ he leered, growing bolder and touching her cheek.
Lizzie worked hard to keep her expression from showing her disdain. ‘Please let me go home. I’m sure such a handsome man as you has his pick of the girls who would jump at the chance to be with you,’ she said to flatter him.
‘Follow me, I said,’ he barked in broken French. ‘Do you have trouble understanding orders?’
Lizzie had met bullies before and this man was clearly a bully, picking on a young woman half his size.
‘It isn’t appropriate for me to go anywhere with you alone like this. What would your commanding officer say if he knew you stopped me against my will?’
The soldier pawed her shoulder. ‘Oh, little French girl, I can see you are begging for it. Like to play hard to get, do you? Well, let’s see what I can do for you. I’m sure you will be more than satisfied after the cowardly French weaklings you have known. It’s time a real man showed you how it’s done.’
Anger ripped through Lizzie, and suddenly she wasn’t scared anymore. Before she could stop herself, the venomous words flew out of her mouth. ‘Like to pick on defenceless women, do you? Can’t get a woman to be with you without forcing yourself on her? That’s the problem with bullies!’
Then she came to her senses, realising what she had said.
The soldier’s sweat-coated face turned the colour of pale salmon at her insults. ‘Arrrr,’ he roared, and he tore herfingers from the bicycle handles and threw it to the ground in one vicious movement.
Her raincoat tumbled out of the basket and landed in a messy heap on the ground. ‘You French whore! I’ll teach you to speak to me like that. You are the property of the Reich now, and no one cares what I do to you. Do you understand?’
