Page 49 of Shadows In Paris
Lizzie began queueing again in the shop next door. Vegetables weren’t rationed, but it was still a hell of a fight to get any. After another tiresome but uneventful wait, she left the shop, ecstatic she’d got a swede and a cabbage. The children in the basement were in her mind constantly, and the thought of being able to cook a decent meal for them spurred her on.
By now, the chill had penetrated her bones. Just one more errand and she could leave. She followed Hannah’s instructions and found the café she had told her to visit. At least she could have a hot drink before making the journey back to the farmhouse with her hard-won supplies. The sky was gunmetal grey, and snow floated on the air like particles of icing sugar.
The café was warmer than outside, but she kept her coat on and sat at an empty table next to the window, overlooking the river like Hannah instructed her. There was only a handful of customers, and she was relieved she didn’t have to go into one of the busier establishments the soldiers from the Paris barracks frequented. She’d seen them loitering in the entrance of a café and heard them whistling at French women, trying to catch their attention.
Lizzie drank her coffee and gazed out of the window at the swirling snow that formed magical shapes pirouetting along the choppy surface of the Seine. The Eiffel Towerdraped in snowflakes was like a scene from a Christmas card, and the sight enchanted Lizzie as the warmth brought her senses back to life.
Lizzie wore a red coat and matching beret that Hannah had lent her and told her to wear for this meeting.
‘It’s the sign for the contact I told you about. I won’t have time to meet with him now because of my job, so you must go in my place. He should recognise you by my coat and hat. I told him someone else would meet with him. Remember, don’t speak to him unless he uses the special code, and he matches the description I gave you.’
Ten minutes passed, and the contact didn’t enter the café. The snow was swirling more heavily now, and Lizzie hoped he would still appear, or she would need to return tomorrow. The more times she waited in the same place, the more dangerous it became. She had learnt she must blend into her surroundings, and returning in the same outfit would be riskier, especially as the café wasn’t busy.
Another ten minutes had passed, Lizzie noted as she glanced at her watch whilst she pretended to be absorbed in reading a discarded newspaper. The light was fading fast, and the snowy afternoon was already transforming into dusk. Lizzie decided she would wait another ten minutes and then leave. Hannah had warned her the contact might not make it and she shouldn’t stay longer than half an hour.
The door opened and Lizzie raised her head and cast her eyes over the new customer to see if he matched the description of the contact. She did a double take before she could stop herself. Then her eyes darted downwards, and she buried her head in the newspaper, praying the man hadn’t recognised her. Footsteps crossed the café, and she heard a pleasant voice greet the proprietor.
Lizzie clutched her hands together beneath the table andpretended to read. Her heart clattered in her chest, when the voice she had heard before and had hoped never to hear again echoed over her shoulder.
‘What a magnificent surprise to see you here, madame.’
CHAPTER 23
The officer loomed over Lizzie, and she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t seen him any longer.
‘You remember me, I hope?’ he said, his handsome face creasing into a charming grin.
She managed a tentative smile in return. ‘Ah, good afternoon, of course I remember you. How could I forget you when you were so kind to me on the train?’
The proprietor walked towards them holding a tray, and the officer nodded to him. ‘Thank you, Claude.’
‘May I join you? I come bearing gifts,’ he said, turning to Lizzie, pointing to the tray laden with fancy cakes.
She gulped. ‘Really, that’s so thoughtful, but I was just leaving. I have dinner to prepare,’ she said, pointing to her bag of meagre produce.
The officer looked disappointed. ‘Can I not tempt you with one of these cakes and some hot chocolate? Claude’s is the very best Paris has to offer.’
It might be the best Paris offered to a Nazi officer, but there were no cakes in sight for ordinary French people.
‘Forgive me, madame, I am letting my enthusiasm atseeing you again affect my manners, and that is unpardonable.’
He seemed as genuinely decent as he was on the train, and Lizzie considered how she could extract herself without being rude. There was no benefit to offending a German officer who wasn’t a threat, and he was, after all, just offering her cake.
Beware of friendly Nazis, Hannah’s ominous warning echoed in Lizzie’s thoughts.
Lizzie scrambled to her feet. ‘Please take my table,’ she said, looking from the officer to the proprietor, who was still waiting rather comically for the instruction of where to put the tray. ‘I really must go before it gets dark, especially in this awful weather.’
‘But madame, please don’t tell me you mean to walk home in this snow. I simply cannot allow it. You will catch your death.’
‘No, no, you misunderstand. I am not walking. It’s no problem at all—I have a good bicycle and am used to making the journey.’
Claude placed the tray on the table and returned to tend to his new customers.
The cakes looked so inviting, but the officer remained standing next to Lizzie, and he slapped his hand on his leg. ‘That settles it, then. Please, madame, join me for a short while. Enjoy the cake and chocolate and then I will see that you arrive home safely. You have my word. No one should travel alone in this snowstorm. It is almost dark.’
Lizzie found herself in a dilemma. A straggle of customers had entered to escape the increasing flurries of snow, and she and the officer were attracting attention by standing around like this. Rule number one when undercover was never to attract attention. This outing was quicklyturning sour, and she hadn’t even met the contact she’d come to see.
The officer was genuinely bewildered that she would prefer to leave the warmth of the café and decline his offer of cake and a comfortable ride home.
