Page 23 of Shadows In Paris
But it was not to be.
She cast an inquiring look at the French policeman, as if she had no idea why he might stop her.
‘Papers,’ he said in a superior tone, his eyes aloof.
Lizzie slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out her identification papers.
The seamstress had sewn fresh papers into Lizzie’s coat lining for her to take to Hannah. Forging experts had pored over the documents to make them as authentic as possible. Part of Lizzie’s mission was to pay attention to what changes had happened with the Nazi laws and bureaucracy in Paris, so she could pass the details to Baker Street, and they could produce the updated documents.
Lizzie assumed a demure expression whilst the official checked her papers, but her heart pounded, and she felt weak.
Stay calm. You are an ordinary young French woman.
‘Purpose of your visit to Paris?’ he asked, his voice holding an edge of menace.
Lizzie swallowed. Her throat was dry. ‘I’m here to visit my sister. She’s been unwell and is recuperating.’
The policeman continued studying her document, and she wondered what was going through his mind. Did he get asick pleasure from stopping women from going where they wished to go? Did he get rewarded for catching people out on minor discrepancies in their papers?
She held her breath, waiting to see if the papers would pass his careful inspection.
Lizzie had placed her life in the hands of the agency, and she trusted them implicitly. She knew Jack and Val had done everything they could to get her mission-ready, but things changed frequently and who knew if these papers reflected the German regime’s latest procedures in Paris? There were different regulations and statutes in the various occupied territories, and it was difficult to keep up with them.
Lizzie’s chest felt like it might explode as she stood waiting. Surely, she wouldn’t be stopped so early on her mission, before she’d even got the chance to talk to Hannah. The streets of Paris were just beyond the station door, calling to her.
Slowly the policeman returned her papers, raising his eyes to look at her, and then he stood aside to allow her to pass.
‘Have a pleasant trip, madame.’
Her fingers curled around the papers, and she thanked him, careful not to show her contempt of the Nazi collaborator.
She was only twenty-one, and he had presumed she was unmarried initially, but her papers were having the desired effect. He had automatically treated her with more deference as a married woman. It was a subconscious social habit. Thank goodness Jack had insisted on a new cover name. Not for the first time, she realised how experienced he was in undercover operations, and she was relieved she hadn’t argued with him on the point.
She inhaled the cold fresh air as she headed to the street exit, one hand gripping the handle of her case. As she tookher first step onto the Paris pavement, she sent up a prayer of thanks. She found herself calling for God’s help frequently during this crazy war. She imagined there were many people praying for mercy during these brutal times.
The thought reminded her of Pierre’s words, and she could see why he might question God’s plan amid this horror sweeping through the world.
Lizzie had her instructions and set out at a brisk walk. Jack had pored over a map of the city with her for hours. She hadn’t been to Paris since she was a child, and then, she had paid no attention to street names and neighbourhoods. She was a carefree girl on holiday with her family, and the memory of those joyful summer days created a pang of nostalgia that rippled through her.
Jack had pointed out the quarters and neighbourhoods and insisted she study the layout of the city religiously. There was a lot she still didn’t know, but she could visualise some of the map and she was well prepared to meet Hannah.
The air was bone chilling, but the sky was pale blue, and Paris was pretty even in the harsh January temperature. As she walked, she came to a sudden stop and tilted her head upwards as she caught a glimpse of the frost covered Eiffel Tower glinting between buildings. She remembered seeing it when she was a child, but now it was symbolic of the old Paris and her eyes misted over. The famous landmark was imposing, and she marvelled at how it dominated, as though it was right next to her in the centre of the city. She had paid little attention to it back then, but now it made her even more determined to do all she could to free France of Nazi tyranny.
The day would come when people would once again be free to visit Paris on a whim without carrying papers to prove they weren’t enemies of the Reich. Jack talked often ofthem travelling to France together after the war, and the thought boosted her spirits.
The streets were thronged with German military. There was an army barracks in the city, and Paris was the ultimate reward for soldiers on leave and the dream assignment for high-ranking officers, so it was no surprise.
Lizzie was careful to keep her eyes down and avoided engaging with anyone. She passed a row of tall French government buildings, blood-red Nazi swastika-emblazoned flags flapped in the wind,and German soldiers guarded the entrances.
It was only when she turned a corner and saw the road sign she was looking for, she realised how scared she was, and relief poured through her veins as she slowed her pace.
Things moved quickly after that. She heard a whistle and looked towards the sound. A dark-haired woman sat on a bench, newspaper in one hand. Hannah must have sent one of the other agents to meet her and, for a second, she was disappointed.
Lizzie made her way towards the bench and saw two shabby bicycles propped against the wall nearby.
‘Welcome to Paris, sister,’ the dark-haired woman said, her startling blue eyes flickering over the top of the newspaper to meet hers.
Lizzie gasped. ‘It is you!’
