Page 45 of Shadows In Paris
Nicole’s lips formed a weak smile. ‘You’re right, of course, but it’s just so dangerous. He flies most days, you know.’
Jack nodded. ‘I know, but the worst of it is over. Henry is a true hero—if it weren’t for skilled, dedicated pilots like him, we would have lost the Battle of Britain, and Hitler and his mob would be on our shores. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s awarded a medal. Not much time for accolades now, but they will come.’
‘He certainly deserves a medal, but I’d gladly just have our boy back without any of that. On the radio last week, they talked of the RAF conducting Fighter Sweeps over occupied Europe. The whole thing sounded terrifying, and it only seems to get more so every time I listen.’
Jack squeezed his mother’s hand. ‘Stop listening to the broadcasts if they upset you.’
‘That’s what Elise says,’ Nicole said, a wry smile on her lovely face.
‘She always was smart. Listen to the cheerful programmes instead of the war broadcasts. Thinking too much about what’s happening is enough to depress anyone.’
Jack knew that too well and wished he would follow his own advice.
Elise tapped on the door and entered, bearing a tray of freshly baked cake. She poured them another round of tea and served the cake, apologising as she always did that it was not up to her pre-war standards.
‘I don’t know how you do it, but you produce such delicious goodies even in this dire rationing situation. You’re a true marvel,’ Jack said, shaking his head in between bites of sponge.
‘Oh, you. You’re making me blush!’ She laughed, overjoyed by his enthusiastic praise.
After more tea and cake, and more chatting, Jack finally rose and said he must get back to the office.
‘Any news of Hannah?’ his mother asked.
‘Yes, there is actually. Not much I can tell you, but last I heard, she’s well.’
‘Thank goodness. When this awful war is over, I plan to throw a marvellous big wedding for Henry and Hannah.’
Jack smiled. ‘What a lovely idea, Maman. Keep thinking those happy thoughts, rather than listening to too many broadcasts. Promise me?’
Nicole agreed she would do as he asked, and then walked him to the door, her arm tucked in his. She turned and gave him a tight hug. ‘You look handsome but tired, my boy. That job is wearing you out. Now you promise me something. Take it easier, please, and get some rest.’
Jack laughingly promised he would, and his mother kissed him and waved him off, her brown eyes shining bright with unshed tears.
Jack had another duty to perform that chilly afternoon, so he walked quickly to Baker Street and organised a car. Itseemed wasteful to get someone to drive him, and he enjoyed driving himself when he could. It would give him a chance to think clearly about the Paris mission.
He weaved the car out of London and headed west towards Oxfordshire. As he wound through the country lanes, his mind ticked over with thoughts of Lizzie’s latest message he had decoded. Paris was now on German time, so it would be 2 p.m. there and he wondered what she was doing.
What had happened to the scientist she mentioned, and how had she got involved? It sounded like a recipe for disaster, and he didn’t like it one bit. In the back of his mind, he was prepared to fly into France on a moment’s notice if he didn’t hear from her again in the next day or two.
The waiting around every day was tortuous, and he had to keep reminding himself that this was the nature of espionage, and wartime espionage was even more tense. Things either happened at a snail's pace, and you needed the patience to wait it out without losing your nerve, or the situation escalated into an emergency and before you knew what was happening, you had to take immediate action.
Whatever it was, he was on standby and ready for it. Lizzie was determined to carry out her duties, but the mission weighed heavily on his heart, and he would hold himself responsible if something went wrong.
The car entered the pretty market town of Henley-on-Thames just as the pale wintery sun showed its face and glimmered on the surface of the River Thames.
Jack parked the car next to a pile of sandbags and hurried into town towards the post office, wishing he’d worn his coat.
Lizzie had asked him to post her first card to her family shortly after she left, so they wouldn’t worry when she didn’t call them. He extracted the handwritten postcard thatfeatured a picture of the Henley stone-arched bridge from his pocket, running his fingers over the text as he read.
Dearest Ma, Pa, Juliet & Evie,
I hope you are all keeping well. This is just a short note to let you know I’ve settled into the job at the nursing home in Henley. The veterans are cheered to have someone to translate for them as they try to rebuild their lives. It’s a lovely, quiet market town, and I’m enjoying the work. The food isn’t too bad either!
Missing you, as always. Please look after yourselves. I will write again as soon as I can.
All my love,
Lizzie xxx
