Page 52 of Tides of Resistance
Lizzie’s senses screeched as she experienced an overwhelming symphony of horror. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and an icy rage swept over her.
It couldn’t happen. She couldn’t allow it to happen.
Heinrich was completely oblivious to the reaction his patriotic words stirred in the Jersey girl with whom he was fast becoming more besotted by the minute.
‘Our naval activity protects the islands. Can you believe those English fools left their own islands undefended and completely underestimated us?’
Lizzie did believe it. It was true, but it broke her heart to hear him say it. They had handed the Channel Islands to their enemy on a plate.
He continued bragging about their maritime operations, and Lizzie gazed at the wooden Breton blue and white fishing boats beached on the mudflats exposed by the low tide. She had been out in a boat like that when she was a child with her family, and the memory of those happy days surfaced, stirring her heartache even more.
The panoramic view and the dominant position the Germans commanded over France, the Channel Islands and the English Channel was a sobering vision.
An alarming thought entered her mind. Was it possible that her beloved island would be used as a key position to help block an allied invasion?
Lizzie’s mood sank lower, but she acted as though all of this was of no great consequence to her and she was enjoying an interesting tour with her new influential companion.
Heinrich touched her arm very lightly, and steered her back to the car, where the driver waited to open the door for them.
‘Come, it is growing cold for you here, Rose. I have more to show you. And then we will have lunch at my villa. I’ve taken it upon myself to ensure you recuperate fully. You shall want for nothing.’
Lizzie shuddered as her stiff lips returned his smile.
He planned to own her too.
CHAPTER 30
Baker Street, London
Jack sat in his office, trying to focus on the task at hand and not think about Lizzie, but it was useless. Her sweet face loomed in his mind, and he hadn’t slept properly since he had returned from Scotland and learnt she was gone. The same feeling of dread gripped his stomach continuously, whether he was at home or in the office. He couldn’t find any peace in work, which was how he usually fought off his demons, and when he visited his mother for tea the previous day, she quizzed him about his brother’s fiancée, Hannah, which only made things worse.
He recruited Hannah before the war, and she was now in the Resistance with the Lavender Network in Vichy France. Nothing had come through from her for weeks, and even if it had, he couldn’t tell his mother operational secrets.
Jack had left his mother’s house feeling like he’d let her down. As the eldest son, he saw it as his role to cheer her, and even more so now his brother was away with the RAF. His mother had struggled since their father had died suddenly whenhe and Henry were boys. Being the person who needed cheering didn’t sit well with Jack, and he grew more frustrated.
Action was his natural modus operandi, and being stuck behind a desk in London, helpless whilst Lizzie was in France trying to outsmart the damn Boche, was driving him slowly insane.
Jack shuffled the pages of the latest report on the progress of their agents in France, which made for a gloomy read. There was a sharp tap on the door, and Stella, the tea lady, poked her head into the room. Grateful for the distraction, he waved her in with a big smile. They chatted about the glorious spring weather, and he asked if her family were well.
Jack was one of Stella’s favourites, and she always kept the best biscuits for him. After she poured him a piping hot mug of tea and passed him the biscuits, she paused. ‘I hope it’s not out of order for me to ask, but I haven’t seen Lizzie in a while. She’s not unwell, is she?’
The question was like a knife twisting in his chest.
Unwell?He hoped not, but he had no way of knowing. Visions of her lying in a ditch or locked up in a Nazi prison rolled into his mind even as he tried to shut them out.
Jack forced a smile and spoke in an upbeat tone. ‘That’s kind of you to ask. She was transferred temporarily to one of our other offices. She will return when the work is complete.’
Alone again in his office, he lit a cigarette.
She would return.He couldn’t allow himself to indulge in any other outcome or he would go quite mad.
Circles of smoke shimmered over his head, and he visualised the day when Lizzie would come home. Being her commanding officer was getting more difficult with every mission. Could he trust himself to make the right decision where she was concerned? He feared he had lost all perspective, and what heyearned to do was parachute into a field near St. Malo and bring her home.
Clearly, hehadlost all perspective, but short of telling Val and the big boss about their relationship, he didn’t see what he could do. Besides, they would have her report to someone else, and then they’d be even worse off. No one else would fight for her like he did, so how could that be in her best interests? There were plenty of missing and dead agents.
Jack inhaled deeply; the tobacco hit, calming his agitated nerves for a blissful few seconds.
No, he would keep quiet.It wasn’t fair to tell them without Lizzie’s approval, but even if it were, his gut told him it would be the wrong thing to do. He would continue to fight for Lizzie with the same dedication he applied to achieve the highest outcome for all his agents. Just because he couldn’t sleep for worrying about her, didn’t mean she should be singled out and thrown to the wolves to show she didn’t get special treatment.
