Page 51 of Shadows In Paris
The officer was polite and even though he knew her name, she noticed he still addressed her solely as madame.
Lizzie’s thoughts tangled with one another, and she couldn’t think straight as she desperately tried to come up with a believable excuse to refuse a lift home on this dark, freezing, snowy evening.
‘No really, I have my bicycle nearby and am perfectly fine to ride home. Please do not take yourself and your driver out of your way. I’m certain you must have much more important things to do.’
Karl moved closer, and his voice was low. ‘I understand, madame, that you must protect your reputation at all costs, and I apologise for any inconvenience I have caused you today. In all good faith, I cannot allow myself to abandon you like this when I could, with a simple act of decency, see you home safely.’
The situation was becoming untenable, and she franticallysearched for a good reason to refuse his offer again, but she failed to conjure anything that didn’t sound like she had something to hide.
The officer must have seen her resigned expression. ‘You may rest assured, I will escort you with the utmost discretion and if you never wish to see me again, I will honour your wish. Now, madame, where is your bicycle to be found? You leave first and wait for us on the next street. I forget the name. Rue … ah, but of course, you are even newer to Paris than me. It’s the small street that runs next to this one. Turn right when you exit the café, turn first right again and wait by the small bookshop. We will meet you there.’
Lizzie’s mind was humming. There was no point in making a fuss. This was the quickest way to get rid of him, so she processed his instructions and said goodbye as if they were parting.
He whispered in her ear. ‘It is dark now. No one will see you. There is nothing to fear.’
Was she making a mistake to trust him? What if he didn’t have a man waiting for him at all, and he meant to force himself on her?
Memories of the previous summer surfaced, and fear clawed at her stomach.
No.Trust your gut and live by your wits.Jack’s wise words resounded in her mind. That’s what she was doing and there was a voice within her—when she allowed herself to tune into it—that told her Karl meant her no harm.
She retrieved her bag and after telling him where she had parked her bicycle, Lizzie stepped out of the warm café and into the sleet and snow that rushed into her face, making her wince.
It really was a terrible night for cycling and she wished she had got away much earlier and not bumped into the officer.As charming and well-meaning as he was, making friends with him could only spell trouble.
Lizzie waited beneath the awning of the bookshop. Guilt washed over her as she remembered how she had feasted on the cake whilst the family waited in the basement. She had intended to have a vegetable and chicken stew bubbling on the stove for them by now.
In the dim streetlights, Lizzie saw a German army truck turn the corner and pull up slowly alongside the bookshop. Her bicycle was strapped to the back at an awkward angle. The door clicked open, Karl’s face appeared through the window, and he signalled for her to get in. She realised he was honouring his promise of discretion.
Lizzie climbed into the backseat of the truck, and Karl’s driver pulled smoothly away. They wound through the snowy streets, and people hurried out of their way as they appeared. This was Paris through the eyes of the occupier, and Lizzie was riding with the enemy.
The driver asked for her address and Lizzie realised this was her last chance to avoid leading the Nazis to the Resistance safe house door. She considered giving them a fake address and getting out somewhere else, but she had made that mistake before, and it had proved fatal. She wouldn’t repeat it.
Hide in plain sight.
Sometimes that was the best way.
The snow was sticking, and she thought again of the family in hiding as she looked out of the window. How would they make it over the Pyrenees in these arctic conditions?
‘Madame, are you quite comfortable?’ Karl asked.
She nodded. ‘Yes, thank you.’
As they turned another corner, Lizzie caught sight of a sign: “Germany Is Winning On All Fronts!”
They bounced along the road to the outskirts of the city, the wheels of the large truck handling the snow and ice with ease. It wasn’t long before they turned off the road and rumbled down the country lane towards the farmhouse.
The farmhouse where a hunted Jewish family were at this very minute hiding in the basement. The farmhouse where the Resistance leader of the Liberty Network lived.
Lizzie had brought a Nazi officer right to their door.
CHAPTER 24
Lizzie had fallen into something of a rhythm during the past few weeks. Hannah left for work early each morning, and her days passed quickly, carrying out the various duties to support the network. She was in and out of the house a lot and cycled into the city most days under the guise of shopping, but she also met with members of Hannah’s team.
As she washed the breakfast dishes, her mind wandered back to the snowy evening when the Nazi officer had driven her home. Hannah told her that when she saw the German army truck pull into the front yard, she had rushed downstairs and called out to warn the Stern family not to make so much as a sound because the house was about to be searched. Then she flew back upstairs and shoved on her thick-rimmed glasses and frumpy cardigan, ready to play the role of the major general’s personal secretary. She wouldn’t go down without a fight, and if her disguise failed, she had her gun loaded and ready.
When Lizzie opened the front door with her key, enteredand closed the door behind her, shutting out the whirling snowstorm, Hannah stared at her, speechless.
