Page 55 of Whispers At Dawn
‘Of course I can. Let’s go.’
The wind blew in Lizzie’s face, and she ran as fast as she could by the light of the torch. Jack measured himself to her pace and soon they were panting, but back on the hillside and approaching the edge of the château grounds.
Dawn was breaking as twilight seeped through the ether and light triumphed over darkness for one more day.
The saboteurs let themselves into the château quietly through the kitchen door and tiptoed upstairs to their rooms. Jack closed the door behind them and Lizzie rested her back against the cool wall. Her heart was still hammering, and it took a few minutes for her to settle and catch her breath. The thrill of escaping danger was like nothing she’d experienced before the war.
Just as dawn proclaimed its arrival, shimmering across the Garonne Valley with shards of pale light splintering through the shutters, Lizzie turned to Jack with a triumphant gleam in her eyes, and whispered, ‘We did it.’
CHAPTER 27
Jack and Lizzie sat in the shade on a blanket with a picnic of baguette and cheese, freshly picked fruit from the orchard, and a bottle of Luc’s finest white wine.
Jack had positioned the blanket in their favourite viewing spot. The pink city spread before them, melded in the sparkling valley. Lizzie thought early summer was the best time of year to be in France. The countryside was in full bloom and the landscape was adorned in vibrant colours. To one side, pink-hued lavender waved at them in the soft wind, and to the other was a lush carpet of vines laden with the promise of the new wine season.
‘Luc is very generous to us,’ Lizzie said, finishing a delicious chunk of cheese and wiping her hands on a tea towel.
‘He is. We couldn’t ask for a more considerate host, especially when you think what baggage we brought with us.’
Jack opened the bottle of wine, the familiar Château de Saint-Clair label on the front, and poured the crisp, fruity white wine into two small flutes from their picnic basket. He passed one to Lizzie. ‘Santé.’
They talked in French, just in case anyone overheard them. They were always careful to keep their voices low, but one wordin a foreign language, especially English, would stand out even if the listener couldn’t make out exactly what they said.
‘The only downside of our arrangement is I feel doubly responsible for keeping Luc safe and protecting the château.’
Lizzie said, ‘I know what you mean. It’s making us more cautious than usual.’
‘Ahh, drink your wine, it’s delicious.’
They sat there for a while, savouring the wine and appreciating the breathtaking view.
‘We’ll tell our children about this one day,’ Jack said.
His words startled Lizzie. Of course, she’d daydreamed about having children together in some mythical future, but they’d never discussed anything tangible beyond getting married after the war. Everything had to be on hold until the war was over and there was never time to think about much else. Winning the war dominated every part of their lives.
‘How lovely. We’ve not talked about having children,’ she said, touching his hand.
‘I know, but I’ve thought about it a lot. I can just see a little Isabelle playing in the park, eating ice cream.’
Emotion rushed through Lizzie. ‘And I can just see a little dark-eyed Michel running around, causing mischief.’
Jack grazed Lizzie’s lips, and she rested her head against his chest, and they lay on the blanket, both imagining their future children in a peaceful world.
‘Do you find it difficult to envision the war being over?’ Lizzie said.
Jack lit a cigarette and pondered as a hazy hoop of smoke drifted away towards the sky. ‘I find it’s best to live in the moment in our line of work, but I think it’s important we visualise a future beyond this crazy war. It will pull us forward.’
Lizzie agreed. ‘You are wise, Raven.’
‘I’m not sure about that, but whatever wisdom I’ve gained was won the hard way. And of course, I’m so very old. You will be as wise as me when you reach the grand old age of thirty-four.’
Lizzie dissolved into laughter when he tickled her side, and she did the same to him, but with no reaction. ‘How are you immune to tickling?’
‘It’s a mind game. One day when I was a kid, I just decided I wouldn’t be ticklish.’
‘Well, I know you can be stubborn! As simple as that, aye?’
‘As simple as that.’
