32.
THIRTY-TWO CIVILIANS WERE murdered in retribution while Johanna cleaned out the cellar that afternoon. She’d needed the distraction, though it didn’t calm her anger at the injustice. She’d played the piano for Astrid and watched her daughter tease the kitten with a piece of string without a care in the world. That small part of her day had felt almost normal.
Fabienne had been too occupied with washing the bed sheets and airing the blankets to take advantage of the good weather. They had barely spoken, and she’d sensed that Fabienne was avoiding her. That silence troubled her far more than any guilt over killing the guards, and left her feeling isolated and alone.
Gerhard had asked about her trip into town later that evening, but he hadn’t tested her: not that he’d given any attention to her lies. He might think of her as outspoken, but he would not consider her capable of such actions. In any event, he’d been on tenterhooks, and not just about the guards’ deaths, though she was sure that hadn’t helped his sombre mood.
She’d slept fitfully, wondering how the children were faring, haunted by the sound of gunfire, and worrying about Fabienne’s reticence towards her. She’d woken before sunrise. Gerhard had already left for work, and she wasn’t expecting him back before midnight.
Today was the second of June. At 21:00 hours, Operation Dijon was going to happen. She didn’t know what it involved, just that it was significant for Gerhard and the German war effort. She prayed it wasn’t going to be a bad day for the Resistance and the French.
She put on her dark-blue dress and a pair of leather court shoes and went downstairs. Frau Tussaud had already stoked the stove and boiled the kettle. “Guten morgen, Frau Neumann. How are you today?”
“I’m okay, thank you. How’s Fabienne?” Johanna made coffee, lit a cigarette, and took a long draw.
“She’ll be over soon. She’s just settling Nancy.” Frau Tussaud wiped down the kitchen surface and took out a packet of flour. “I thought I’d make crepes for Astrid. Does she like crepes?”
“Um, yes, I’m sure she’ll love them.”
Frau Tussaud cracked an egg into a bowl, added some milk and flour and started to blend the mixture with a fork.
“Is something wrong with Nancy?” Johanna asked.
Frau Tussaud smiled. “No, she’s just staying home from school today.”
Johanna breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness.”
“Everything will work out. Relax and enjoy this beautiful summer’s day. Maybe a bit of fresh air will do the trick. Perhaps Astrid would like to play with Nancy later. It will give Nanny a rest. She’s been quite busy these last few days.”
Frau Tussaud took Johanna’s hand. Her skin was soft and warm, and the wisdom of her words, comforting.
“You’re right,” Johanna said.
Frau Tussaud patted her, then let her go. She went back to whisking the batter. “Maybe the girls could have a tea party at the cottage later? You are invited, of course.” She smiled and tasted the mix. “Everything will work out,” she said again.
Johanna sipped her coffee. “I’ll have to find something to occupy Hauptmann Schmidt for the afternoon.” She tapped the side of the cup as she pondered.
“The shutters at the back of the house need repainting. They haven’t been done since before the war. It’s man’s work. There is paint in the garage. If you were thinking of keeping him occupied for a few hours.”
Johanna laughed. “That’s an excellent idea.”
Fabienne entered through the kitchen door carrying a small basket of eggs. “It seems the hens prefer the summer.” She laughed. “Anyone for an omelette?”
Fabienne’s distance yesterday suddenly seemed light years away. Warmth radiated from deep inside Johanna, reviving her faith in them again. “I’d love one,” she said. “Would you both like a coffee?” She started making the drinks before either woman could respond, knowing Fabienne at least would not refuse.
Nanny entered the kitchen. She glanced from one woman to another, her gaze settling on Fabienne and the egg basket.
Johanna smiled. “Nanny, would you like an omelette?”
Nanny looked flustered. “Well, if that’s possible. Thank you.”
“Of course,” Fabienne said. She averted her eyes and set to work whisking the eggs.
Nanny’s eyelids set heavily over her eyes, and dark rings highlighted the bags that sagged down her cheeks.
Johanna should have noticed how tired she was before. It hadn’t dawned on her that Nanny and Frau Tussaud would be about the same age. Nanny was possibly a few years older. “Would you like a cup of coffee, Nanny?”
Nanny’s wrinkles deepened and her cheeks coloured. “That would be very nice, thank you.”
Johanna indicated to the table. “Sit down. Let’s have breakfast together.”
Johanna sensed Nanny’s silent questions and the evident discomfort that had her sitting as though the seat spiked her. She presented her with a cup of coffee and sat at the table next to her. Johanna would have liked to have confided in her, helped her to see that these were good people, kind people, and not the enemy. But where would she start, and what if Nanny couldn’t bear to hear the words and turned against Johanna because of them. Nanny had said she would protect Johanna, but that didn’t mean she would condone the level of fraternisation they were engaged in.
Fabienne served them both an omelette with a smile.
Frau Tussaud had set the crepe batter to rest and was making pastry.
Nanny and Johanna ate breakfast together for the first time since Johanna had been a child. Nanny’s discomfort seemed to ease a little as she tucked into the omelette. For Johanna, the status differences that had always existed between them, that had dictated her life and caused her to fear her father and husband and doubt her own worthiness, dissolved. She wasn’t the Johanna Neumann who had played for the Berliner Philharmoniker, or who had entertained the elite wives in a city she had once adored, or the wife who had arrived in Erstein eight months earlier. For the first time in her life, she was free from it all and even though she didn’t know where that freedom would lead her next, it didn’t matter.
Nanny finished breakfast, sighed and put her hand to her belly. “That was delicious. Thank you. I’ll go and get Astrid ready for school.” She stood up.
“You can take the afternoon off today, Nanny. I’ll take care of Astrid. Hauptmann Schmidt will be painting the shutters at the back of the house.”
Nanny’s eyebrows raised, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Very well, Frau Neumann.”
***
Fabienne was sitting with her back against the woodshed at the back of the cottage, savouring the sun, when Johanna and Astrid turned up after lunch.
A shadow fell across her face, and she blinked her eyes open to see Johanna smiling down at her. The dark-blue summer dress complemented her eyes, not that she’d been able to tell her that earlier. She was the most beautiful woman Fabienne had ever met.
Astrid darted past her and into the kitchen, heading for Nancy’s room.
Johanna sat down next to her. “You look relaxed.” She smelled faintly of lavender.
Fabienne didn’t feel anything – she’d just been trying to let the reality of what had happened settle – so it didn’t taunt her waking thoughts. She sat up straighter and held Johanna’s hand. The contact was both soothing and disconcerting. Love had always felt this way, like a deep longing that always came with a warning attached to it. She should be happy to have had the chance to love Johanna as Johanna loved her, but she wasn’t. It would never be enough. Was it unreasonable to want more? And, knowing that forever wasn’t likely, was it not sensible to let that love go before their hearts broke so completely? She knew the answer, but she couldn’t stop wanting Johanna.
Johanna assessed her, frowning. “Are you okay?”
Fabienne continued to stare out over the fields. “There is a lot to process.” She wasn’t okay, not about anything right now. She needed to be held, to feel safe, and to forget.
Johanna squeezed her hand. “I don’t suppose me saying that you did the right thing is going to help.”
Fabienne knew she’d had no choice but to shoot the guards. It was the retaliations that distressed her more; the innocent victims who had suffered because of her actions. “I sometimes wonder whether what we do is worth it: nineteen children saved and thirty-two—”
“Don’t, Fabienne. You’ll turn yourself inside out, and what’s done is done. If we thought about the numbers, we wouldn’t act. My countrymen don’t care how many people they kill, and that kind of evil has to be stopped. No one fighting against oppression dies in vain. We must do what we can until the war stops.”
Louis Bertrand had taught Fabienne that they didn’t have the luxury of being able to keep the German soldiers alive while also saving the prisoners. She had killed Müller because he deserved it, and there hadn’t been any recriminations. But the patrol soldiers were just doing their job. That was different. She rubbed her tired eyes. “I didn’t want to shoot.”
Johanna wrapped her arm around her shoulder, held her close. “We do what we must. It’s called survival. If they had opened that trap door, we wouldn’t be sat here now, and they would probably have also come after your grandmother and Nancy as well. My husband would have been disgraced, and Astrid…God knows what would have happened to her.”
Fabienne took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I know.” She eased away from Johanna and got to her feet, held out her hand. “Will you come with me for a while, where we can be alone together?”
They went indoors. Linette was in the living room with Bénédicte. She acknowledged Johanna with a wave.
“I’m going to get the girls to make the jam sandwiches and cut up some chunks of cheese,” Mamie said. “Linette picked some berries, so we’ll have a pie.”
Fabienne kissed her cheek. “That sounds incredible. We are going upstairs to talk.”
Fabienne led Johanna to her bedroom and locked the door behind them. As she touched Johanna’s face, her hand trembled and she thought she might collapse from the exhaustion that she’d lived with for so long. But it wasn’t sleep she craved.
Johanna leaned forward and kissed her with such tenderness that Fabienne thought she might start to cry and never stop. With Johanna’s fingers gently massaging her scalp, cradling her head, her concerns slipped away. If only for this moment, she told herself. Had they not earned this time together? She wrapped her arms around Johanna’s slim waist, pulled her close and deepened the kiss. She tasted sweet, and the touch of her tongue ignited the flames of desire deep in Fabienne’s core.
Johanna undid Fabienne’s shirt and slipped her hand inside, then caressed her skin and her stomach, and undid her trousers. They fell to the floor, and Fabienne stepped out of them. She removed her shirt and underclothes and stood in front of Johanna, watching her closely as she scanned her naked body.
The lust in Johanna’s eyes urged Fabienne to satisfy their craving quickly, but she didn’t want that for them. Johanna wasn’t a secret liaison like the others had been. Fabienne’s hands trembled with the will it took to slow down and savour the moment.
Johanna touched her breast, stealing her breath, studied her with such intensity that Fabienne’s sex ached to feel her touch. She put her hand over Johanna’s, every gentle squeeze becoming electric inside her, and kissed her. The softness of Johanna’s lips, the searching caress of her tongue, and the tweaking at her nipple rocked her in waves of increasing intensity.
She eased out of the kiss and held Johanna’s gaze, gathering her breath. “You make me feel things I don’t want to feel,” she whispered.
Johanna caressed her cheek. “And is this such a bad thing?” Johanna kissed her nipple then sucked hard.
The shock of it, like an arrow piercing her heart. This feeling was a very bad thing. It was so bad it was good, and right, and perfect, and she didn’t want to not feel this way. To have to let Johanna go, that was her worst fear.
“Yes, very bad,” Fabienne said, her voice broken with emotion.
Johanna stared as if reading her, and smiled. “I get it. Bad is good,” she said, nodding.
Fabienne lifted Johanna’s dress over her head, unhooked the bra and slipped it from her shoulders. Her milky-white skin was soft and warm, and as she trailed her fingertip along the shape of her, Johanna gasped softly. She kissed along the line of Johanna’s shoulder and her neck, to her collar bone and down to her breast, then took her nipple into her mouth and sucked on it lightly until Johanna reacted with tiny spasms of pleasure.
Johanna held her head tightly against her breast, and Fabienne grazed her nipple with her teeth and flicked across it with her tongue. Johanna jolted, lifted Fabienne’s chin, and kissed her firmly on the lips.
“Bad enough?” Fabienne said, smiling as she traced the line of Johanna’s body to her hips and slipped her hand inside Johanna’s briefs.
Johanna gasped, leaned into her. “Nowhere near bad enough.”
Fabienne teased her clitoris and slid her fingers beneath her folds into the silky, warm wetness. She felt so good. Johanna bucked at her touch, and when Fabienne entered her, she held her breath.
Johanna’s gaze remained fixed on her as she shuddered and whispered moans. She bit down on her lip and tilted her head back as Fabienne made love to her. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes became as blue as the darkest sapphire.
“Very bad,” Johanna whispered.
Johanna clung to her, kissing her, as the shocks moved through her. Fabienne ached to feel Johanna inside her. She led her to the bed, and they climbed under the sheets. Johanna moved on top of her, and stared at her as if she might never see her again and wanted to remember every detail.
Fabienne felt struck by fear but held her gaze. She needed to know what that look meant. “Tell me your thoughts.”
Johanna swallowed and seemed to hesitate. “I’ve never had anyone do that to me.”
Fabienne traced the shape of her face with her fingertip, across her lips, watching the passion emerging in Johanna’s eyes again, and she couldn’t stop staring. “I have never wanted anyone as much as I want you,” she said.
Johanna smiled at her, and she melted inside. Whatever Johanna wanted, Fabienne would willingly give her. She lay back and closed her eyes, felt the briefest kiss at her lips and then at her breast, grazing her nipple and sending shock waves of desire through to her core. Johanna lowered herself down Fabienne’s body, kissing every part of her. She lowered her head between her legs, and Fabienne held her there, lifting her hips so she could slip her tongue inside her. Johanna licked her and gently massaged her clitoris until she could barely breathe.
It was all she could do to not cry out as the pulse grew within her, consumed her entirely. She was climbing, falling and climbing again, every gentle thrust of her tongue touching every part of her. If they stayed like this forever, she would still be left wanting. Then she felt Johanna’s fingers inside her, thrusting, gentle at first and then firmer. The sensation exploded within her, like a thousand stars, and then she was falling like snowflakes gently cascading.
“Oh, that was bad,” Fabienne said as her body stilled, and she started to laugh.
She tugged Johanna up the bed and kissed her with such passion that she feared the intensity of the love she felt. She stroked Johanna’s hair, hardly able to look at her, such was the pain that came with a love such as this. She tucked the loose strands behind Johanna’s ear, only for them to fall free again.
Johanna smiled. “Je t’aime, Fabienne Brun. Je ne te quitterai jamais, mon amour.”
She laughed. “You speak French and with a very good accent.”
Johanna smiled. “I learned it as a child.”
Fabienne wondered what else she didn’t know about Johanna. She felt delirious from the fear of losing her, but never more certain of one thing. “I am in love with you, Johanna, and no matter what happens, nothing can take that away.”
Johanna stroked her face, studying her, keeping her thoughts to herself, though looking more sombre now.
Fabienne pulled her down and kissed her tenderly. She would make love to Johanna again with every ounce of her heart and soul, so they would always remember this time.
Who knew what tomorrow would bring.