Page 83 of Daughters of Paris

Laurent turned left and they crossed the stone bridge onto the island.

‘Have you heard of couriers?’

‘People who take things from place to place?’

‘Exactly. Information or materials intended for the Resistance that would have the bearer arrested and executed without question, and sometimes not only things but people who need to be guided to a location.’ He leaned against the bridge and looked out along the river, elbows resting on the parapet. ‘People such as British airmen trying to make their way to safety while evading capture. Jews. Otherundesirables.’

He lifted his head and fixed her with a piercing gaze, his nose wrinkling as he said the final word, leaving Fleur in no doubt that the phrase was not his own.

‘I understand.’ Fleur shivered and stood beside him, fixing her eyes on the waves beneath. To think this was going on around her while she had been completely unsuspecting. But, of course, if they aroused suspicion, that would ruin the whole point. ‘Do you know, when I first went into your workshop I wondered if some of those parts lying around might be used in making bombs or other weapons.’

Laurent grinned. ‘I could tell you were thinking something. It was one of the first things I noticed about you. You were observing everything. It was quite impressive to see. Anyway, back to my point, sometimes it is necessary for these people to spend a night in one location before moving on, sometimes more than a night. Most of them don’t know Paris and would find it impossible to be where they need to be without help. Many of the British have only rudimentary phrases of French. I’m proposing you act as a courier and a safe house.’

‘I’m not sure we should involve Colette’s family,’ Fleur said. ‘It doesn’t seem fair.’

‘Not there. The bookshop. Sébastien says you have space, the door is not easily observed, and it is close enough to other locations. It would mean meeting your guests at a location in the city when they arrive, offering a bed for the night on occasions, and handing them on to the next link in the chain.’

Fleur broke into a smile. ‘That is exactly what I hoped to be doing.’

Laurent faced her. He ran his hands from her shoulders down her arms and squeezed her hands gently.

‘Believe me, it will take courage. Often you will be walking through checkpoints in the company of men and women with fake papers or carrying packages that would almost certainly see you detained, tortured and executed. You will need to be brave and you will need a cool head.’

A finger of ice traced a path down Fleur’s spine. She suppressed the shiver. She’d carried leaflets around the city that plainly bore criticisms of the regime and incitements to resist. They would have carried the same penalties if she had been found with them. What was this but another foot on the same path? Was she being foolhardy, and if so, why did it matter so much to convince Laurent?

‘I think I can do that,’ she said. She hoped the slight tremor in her voice was only audible to herself.

‘I know you can. I would not ask it of you if I didn’t.’ Laurent’s voice exuded confidence. Fleur looked up at him and saw approval on his face. Warmth spread through her. ‘I have every confidence in you. Now, we must give you a code name that I or others will use to communicate with you. If the name is not used, the message must not be trusted. My name is Augustine. What should you be?’

Fleur shrugged. ‘I have no idea. You choose for me.’

He studied her before speaking. ‘Roxane. The heroine inCyrano de Bergerac.’

‘Oh yes, I like that.’

He nodded, satisfied. His hands moved back to her shoulders and he paused. Fleur stood immobile. Laurent’s eyes widened, the pupils swelling. He leaned a little closer and Fleur drew a deep breath. He was going to kiss her. When Pierre had surprised her with sudden kisses, she had not really known what was going to happen but now she brimmed with anticipation. The only part of her capable of moving was her lips. She parted them slightly, feeling her heart beginning to race.

He dropped his hands and took a step away.

‘I’m not going to kiss you.’

His words crushed her. Stupid Fleur! He had been, until she revealed she was aware of it.

‘I want you to,’ Fleur said. Her pulse drummed in her ears. To be so close then have the promise snatched away was unbearable.

‘Oh I know that,chérie. It is written all over your face.’

‘And yours too, I think,’ Fleur said, putting her hands to her cheeks. Sure enough they were warm and she knew they would be pink.

‘I expect so.’ Laurent’s mouth twitched into a wry smile. ‘However, it would not be right.’

‘Why not?’ Fleur demanded. She was starting to feel agitated, her pulse racing but not in a good way. It made her feel itchy all over.

Sébastien hadn’t wanted her and now Laurent didn’t. Or rather – and she belatedly saw with clarity the difference between the two men – he did but wouldn’t.

‘What’s wrong with me?’

‘Nothing is wrong with you, my Roxane. You are perfect. It’s just very complicated. I can’t explain but you will have to trust me.’

---