Page 22 of Shadows In Paris
She stopped breathing as he stretched upwards and hauled her case off the overhead shelf.
‘Whose is this?’ he asked in guttural German.
Lizzie thought it best to act as though she didn’t understand, so she looked at him as though she was curious about what he was doing with her case.
The officer translated for her patiently. ‘He’s asking whose case this is. Is it yours, madame?’
In a polite voice, Lizzie replied it was.
The officer nodded to the soldier, who had already laid it on the ground between the seats and was tugging the zip. The officer exited the compartment and left her to the mercy of the soldiers.
This is what you were trained for. You are ready for situations like these,she reminded herself.
The older woman caught her eye and winked discreetly.
The soldier ripped open the case and rifled through the contents. Lizzie held her breath as she watched him. His fingers touched her clothing, and he held up a pair of silky French underwear and smirked. The other soldier laughed and joined in, pawing through her clothes. The second soldier’s hands found her novel, pulled it out of the case and read in a mock exaggerated French accent.
Lizzie sat there seething, but she knew she must not rise to the bait. She had to act like an ordinary young French woman with nothing to hide and who wasn’t trained to kill with her bare hands.
She coughed and looked at the soldier. ‘It’s my sister’s favourite novel. She’s been unwell and I’m taking it to her in Paris.’
The soldier leered like he was undressing her with his eyes, and for a second Lizzie thought she might be in real danger. Then the door opened, and the officer joined them again.
‘Come on, boys. You can see there’s nothing sinister here. No point upsetting the lady.’
One soldier looked chastened and the other who had been reading her copy ofLe Comte de Monte Cristo, tossed it back into the case and shoved it towards her with his foot. They both turned to leave, but the officer called them to attention.
‘I said that is no way to treat a lady. Pick up her belongingsand place the case back where you found it,’ he commanded.
The soldier who had read her book, flushed pink and looked humiliated. The other bent to follow the officer’s instructions and within two minutes, the case was back on the shelf, and the two turned to the officer and salutedHeil Hitler.
The train was quiet again, and the officer looked over at Lizzie. ‘I can only apologise for that ungentlemanly behaviour. I hope you have not been too inconvenienced.’
Lizzie smiled graciously and assured him she hadn’t. She didn’t want to encourage him so didn’t risk any further conversation, and turned her head to look out the window, her heart slowly resuming its steady beat.
CHAPTER 10
The train finally lurched into the station and Lizzie looked out of the window and saw the Paris sky was surprisingly bright for this time of year. The officer had slipped out of the compartment and left the train at an earlier stop. She had breathed a sigh of relief and the older woman sitting opposite her smiled knowingly, as though they shared a secret.
Now they both stood to leave the train and parted without saying another word to each other. The silent mutual understanding was all that passed between them.
Lizzie adjusted her beret and checked her coat pockets for her forged identity papers for what must have been the tenth time on the journey. It would be a disaster if she lost them. The rolls of paper francs brushing against her skin reassured her that the money was safe, and so she stretched to retrieve her case and followed the woman out of the external door and onto the platform.
The air was freezing, and the bright blue sky held a deceptive promise it couldn’t keep. Lizzie knotted herwoollen scarf tighter around her neck and buttoned up the collar on her coat.
She wished she could have brought her lucky yellow scarf she had worn during her first missions, but Jack had been adamant it would be a dangerous move. Marie LeClair was gone, along with her elaborate cover story, and there would be no lucky yellow scarf with Lizzie this time.
She prayed the luck would accompany her and she would get out alive, but as she walked along the concourse with purposeful steps that were neither fast nor slow, she had no regrets. The sharp pangs of sadness at leaving Jack so abruptly the previous evening had softened, and she clicked into mission mode.
Her fierce love and tender feelings for him must be locked away for now, or she would struggle to operate. This was no time or place for lovesick daydreams and self-indulgence. She knew what she was here to do—or at least—she knew she was here for Hannah to show her what to do. Hannah was the leader of the Liberty Network and now Lizzie was back in the field, terror-tinged excitement surged through her and she was alert. This is what she had been trained for and she suspected this was the true purpose of her moving to London. What had seemed like being forced into fleeing Jersey before the Nazis invaded, she now viewed more as an opportunity to serve her country in a way she could never have done if she’d stayed on the island.
And then there was Jack, of course. His face loomed in her mind and her emotions tangled with her steely resolve.
But no, she sighed impatiently and firmly pushed the feelings aside again. She must draw on her inner strength and be ready for any eventuality. If there was one thing she had learnt in her relatively short time as an agent, it was that anything could happen when you were in occupied territory, and she couldn’t afford to let her guard down.
Jack had explained to her that one reason Military Intelligence discouraged agents from becoming romantically involved was because they endangered their lives as well as each other’s. ‘Your thinking must be unemotional and crystal clear if you are to make the best decisions for the mission, and judgement is too easily clouded when you are in love with another agent.’
‘Arrête mademoiselle,’a voice stopped Lizzie in her tracks as she headed towards the exit, aiming to blend seamlessly into the crowd, congratulating herself on reaching Paris unhindered.
