Page 69 of Whispers At Dawn
As if reading Lizzie’s mind, she tousled the child’s hair and said, ‘This is my granddaughter, Esther. She’s staying with me whilst her parents are away.’ A shadow crossed the woman’s face, and Lizzie got the impression something bad had happened that she didn’t want to talk about in front of the child.
Lizzie’s reverie was interrupted when the butler appeared in the dining room entrance and he ushered in the two dinner guests. She stood to welcome them, adrenaline rushing through her veins so violently she felt weak.
It was time for her ultimate performance, and one wrong word could seal their fate. Lizzie squared her shoulders, smoothed out her dress, and steeled herself to face the coming ordeal.
‘Herr Walter Von Schneider and the commissaire,’ the butler announced.
The Gestapo officer swept in as though he owned the place. Lizzie glanced at Jack, and he threw her a reassuring look that said, ‘You can do this.’
Luc welcomed their guests, and they exchanged a few words before turning to Lizzie and Jack.
The commissaire wore his usual police uniform and the Gestapo officer was dressed in a tailored suit, which befitted his role as a member of the Nazi secret police. Lizzie realised the two officials were naturally aligned under the police administration’s umbrella. Memories of the reports she had read about the Gestapo caused an icy terror to whip through her body.
Although she’d met Nazi officers on previous missions, she’d not been introduced to a member of the Gestapo. Her heart thudded in her breast as she pasted a smile on her pale face and faked her best attempt at being thrilled to meet the agent of death.
Luc introduced her. ‘Meet my charming relative, Madame Dubois from St. Malo.’
‘Herr Von Schneider, what an honour,’ she said, extending her hand and greeting him with concentrated effort.
The Gestapo officer appraised Lizzie. He took her hand and pressed it to his lips, planting a kiss on her cool skin with his warm mouth. ‘The honour is all mine, madame. I hope I shall have the good fortune to sit next to you at dinner, and you shall tell me all about St. Malo. I plan to visit soon.’
It was said more as a command than a request, and Luc nodded subtly to the butler, who glided across the room to switch the place cards at the table without faltering.
Lizzie smiled weakly at her designated dinner companion, whilst slowly reclaiming her hand. ‘It shall be my pleasure,’ she said, her voice not sounding like her own.
Jack stepped forward to meet the Gestapo officer, shaking his hand, and the moment passed. ‘I’m sure my wife will be overjoyed. Thank you for joining us this evening.’
‘Please call me Walter,’ Von Schneider said, his steely eyes darting from Jack to Lizzie.
Soon they took their seats at the dining table and Von Schneider praised the decor and art on the walls of the elegantroom before turning to the commissaire. ‘You were correct in your recommendation, my friend. This château is indeed the most charming place. I hope to return soon as I have business in Toulouse.’
Lizzie struggled to swallow. It was one thing for a Gestapo officer to dine with them for a few hours, but if he was planning on making it a regular occurrence, it would be terribly dangerous. They must rethink their plans for using the château as a base for expanding their collaborative Resistance operations with Lev.
‘I’m sure we would all love that,’ Jack said, his tone sounding sincere and his face not betraying his feelings.
Despite experience in the field during the past year, Lizzie fought to contain her emotions. She was in awe of Jack’s poker face and his ability to trick the enemy.
The butler poured the wine, and Von Schneider made an elaborate fuss. ‘The aroma is quite beautiful, and the flavour is an uncommon delight to the palate. I must invite my new team ofWeinführersover for a tasting. This vintage is perfect for Germany.’
Luc and Jack exchanged a furtive glance at the mention of Nazi appointed wine agents.
Von Schneider shared his intention as if it were a foregone conclusion and an absolute compliment. Lizzie wrestled harder to keep her composure. Every sentence he uttered took them deeper into treacherous territory, and she dare not think about the two British airmen and the Jewish doctor hiding in the cellars at that very moment.
CHAPTER 35
The dinner dragged on for an eternity, as Lizzie did her best to talk to Von Schneider, who asked her about her life in St. Malo. She had no reason to think he suspected her, other than she was guilty and he was a Gestapo officer. Every question felt like an interrogation whilst simultaneously trying to eat the courses the butler served. The dinner was extravagant beyond any she’d eaten at the château, and Lizzie thought Suzanne must have used up their reserves and cashed in all their rations to provide such a lavish meal.
‘This is delicious, but I can’t eat anymore,’ Von Schneider announced after pushing his barely touched dessert plate away, the artistic arrangement of figs and goat’s cheese glistening beneath a fruit glaze.
Lizzie struggled to eat because she was tense and needed all her attention to answer the Gestapo officer’s stream of questions.
He turned to her once more. ‘Do you miss living by the sea, madame? I, myself, was born and raised in Berlin, so have not spent much time on the coast.’
Lizzie answered truthfully. She missed living by the sea a great deal, and a hard knot formed in her chest as she thought ofPortelet Bay. How she loved to feel the golden sand between her toes.
The Gestapo officer continued, ‘I must say, I am more enthusiastic about my forthcoming visit to St. Malo, after speaking to you.’
Lizzie tried not to panic about the repercussions of him arriving in St. Malo and finding something obviously incorrect from her stories. She’d tried to be as vague as possible. It was a year before the war began when she last visited her cousins. Not that long, but devastating changes may have occurred in the city since the Nazi occupation. How could she possibly know exactly how it looked last month?
