Page 31 of Whispers At Dawn
Lizzie pressed her foot hard on the accelerator and soon they were whizzing down the bendy hillside towards Toulouse.
‘Whoa,’ called Jack, gripping the dashboard. ‘You’re not holding back, I see.’
Lizzie’s yellow scarf flapped in the wind, whistling through the open windows.
‘Why should I, darling? You only live once. I mean to make the most of it …’
The car raced around the bends and Jack roared with laughter as he watched his gorgeous undercover wife clutch her hat to stop it flying away. Lizzie slowed as they reached the city and passed a row of pink-hued buildings.
‘You really are priceless, my love. What on earth would I have done if you hadn’t come along to rescue me from my miserable existence?’
Lizzie parked the car in a little back street, and turned to face Jack, her adoration for him illuminated in her green eyes. ‘That would never have happened. We were always meant to be together. You are my raven.’
Michel and Isabelle Dubois walked hand in hand across thePlace du Capitole, luxuriating in their deep love for each other,unaware they were being watched closely by a man in a café beneath the arcades.
CHAPTER 14
There was only one vacant table outside the café, and it was partially bathed in the sun.
‘Where do you want to sit?’ Jack asked, poised to whisk out the chair of Lizzie’s choice.
‘I’ll sit in the sunshine for a bit, unless you want to. It was such a long winter; I think I’ll enjoy the sun on my face.’
Jack slid into the chair opposite her in the shade, which suited him because he had a perfect view of the plaza.
‘What can I get for you today?’ asked the rebellious waitress with an enthusiastic smile for Lizzie and Jack. ‘Don’t tell me, I remember you had rhyming names …’ She clasped her hand to her head for a second and grimaced as though it was painful to extract the information. Then she dropped her hand and beamed at them. ‘Michel and Isabelle! Am I right?’
‘You are,’ Jack said. ‘Impressive memory. That must be useful in your line of work.’
The waitress looked momentarily startled but quickly recovered her composure.
‘Now you know our names. It’s only fair we know yours,’ he said.
The waitress’s thick, dark hair was rolled into the same elegant hairstyle, and she was dressed in a simple black-and-white uniform, like the other staff. Ordinarily she might blend in, but something about her stood out.
‘That seems fair. My name is Marguerite.’
Jack had hoped they would see her today. She had showed all the signs of someone who could lead them to other disgruntled Toulousians, some of whom might already be actively resisting the Vichy regime.
Jack ordered coffee and Lizzie raised her face to the sun and relaxed against the chair, her sun hat shading her pale forehead.
They sat in a companionable silence, and Jack reflected on his good fortune. He found himself doing this frequently and couldn’t imagine his life without Lizzie. Sometimes, they would sit together without having to fill the space with idle chatter, which in his experience was a rare gift. They talked a lot, but they were equally at ease with each other in silence, and this was one of those times.
Jack gazed up at the cerulean, blue sky as white candy floss shaped clouds floated by.He reminded himself he was here to build a Resistance network and orchestrate chaos, not relax like a tourist on his annual holiday. He was full of gratitude as he scanned the square, studying the eclectic mix of passers-by.
The waitress returned with their steaming coffee and placed two cups on the small circular table.
‘Thank you,’ Jack said. ‘You may recall we mentioned we are new in town. We’re visiting a relative up at the Château de Saint-Clair. Are you familiar with it?’
Like Jack had hoped, the mention of the château caught the waitress’s attention, and she paused.
‘Of course. Who isn’t? I went grape picking there as a child.’
They all agreed the château was idyllic and made polite chit-chat until a grumpy man clicked his fingers at her from another table.
‘Duty calls,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Perhaps I’ll have a moment to continue our conversation later, if you’re not in a rush.’
Lizzie smiled warmly at Marguerite and said that would be lovely. ‘We’re feeling rather isolated, missing our friends in Brittany and not knowing anyone our age in Toulouse. It would be lovely to meet some like-minded people.’
