Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
‘ I can do it, you know,’ Lizzie said, her eyes meeting Jack’s.
He leant back in his chair and a lazy ring of smoke floated over his head and drifted towards the dusty ceiling. He studied Lizzie with troubled eyes.
‘I know you can do it. But that doesn’t mean you should do it. And it doesn’t mean I have to like it.’
‘But this is what I signed up for,’ Lizzie said. ‘There’s no one else. You heard Val.’
‘Utter hogwash,’ Jack growled. ‘Things have changed since last summer now we’re officially set up. We have more agents in training. The plan is to set up multiple Resistance networks throughout France—and across Europe—but we have enough on our plate with F Section. The outcome of the war doesn’t rest solely on your shoulders, Seagrove.’
Jack often called her by the codename he had chosen for her, which was the name of her family home in Jersey. Lizzie liked it when he did. It signified the special bond they shared.
She reached for his hand and ran her fingers up and down his warm skin. ‘My darling Raven,’ she said. ‘What is the point of me being here if I refuse to do my bit? I may just as well be working in a factory and not have to hide our relationship. If we weren’t both SOE agents, we could be open about being together, couldn’t we?’
Jack rose from his chair and began circling the room, his long legs covering ground quickly. ‘Whilst all of that is true, there is plenty to keep you busy here. You don’t have to be active in the field. It’s too damn dangerous for you to go back in. What if someone recognises you, from last time?’
The thought had crossed Lizzie’s mind. She’d been in and out of France several times the previous year. She didn’t like to admit it, but Jack had a valid point.
‘Val warned me there would be a new mission soon, so I’ve thought about it a lot.’
In truth, she’d lain awake at night worrying about what it would be like to be dropped back into France. She worried that her success—if you could call it that—had been beginner’s luck, and next time she would face the terrible reality of being a proper agent. What if she fell short when she was tested on a new mission?
Hannah had proven herself time and time again. And Jack had been active in Military Intelligence long before the war. But Lizzie was still green behind the ears, an expression her father used when describing new recruits to his office.
Lizzie didn’t voice her concerns. What was the point? Jack had enough for them both, and she didn’t want to add to his worries. Instead, she sipped her seedy tasting coffee and then said, ‘I could go in disguise.’
Jack stopped pacing abruptly and swivelled to look at her. ‘What kind of disguise?’
She could tell he was intrigued. From their many conversations discussing the whys and wherefores of espionage, she knew Jack loved all things tradecraft.
‘I don’t know, but we could figure something out. What do other agents do? What did you used to do? Shall I dye my hair?’
Jack’s lips stretched into an involuntary smile, almost as though he was entertained against his will.
‘Fancy the idea of me as a blonde, do you?’ Lizzie said, a cheeky smile crossing her red lips and lighting up her green eyes.
‘Now that’s something I’d like to see.’ Jack offered his hand to Lizzie, which she took. He encircled her in his arms, and she sank happily into his large, comforting frame.
‘You’d look gorgeous with any hair colour,’ he whispered next to her ear, causing the flesh on her neck to erupt into goosebumps. ‘How about I get some props, and you do a private showing for your commanding officer?’
Lizzie laughed. ‘I might have known you’d come up with something like that. Alright, let’s do it. You oversee my training, after all, don’t you, Captain King?’
‘Exactly, and I do take your training seriously,’ he said, his lips brushing hers again. ‘How about dinner tomorrow evening and then we’ll go to my place? I should be able to get hold of some stuff by then. I’ll raid wardrobe and the storeroom.’
‘You’ve got yourself a date,’ Lizzie said. ‘Where shall we go to eat?’
‘I thought we might go back to the bistro near St. Ermin’s. I can’t find anywhere as good near Baker Street. It’s probably wiser to go a little further afield, now there are more people in the office, anyway.’
The following evening, the proprietor of their favourite bistro showed them to a candlelit table in a secluded granite alcove .
‘Long time no see, Monsieur Jacques,’ the man said in a thick French accent.
Jack replied in perfect French, telling him they had missed his delicious rago?t and even though they had moved office, they couldn’t stay away.
A server filled their wineglasses, and Lizzie and Jack talked about their day.
‘Did you think any more about turning down the Paris mission?’ Jack asked after their food was served, and they’d eaten a few mouthfuls.
‘Hmm, no. I mean, I thought a lot about going, not about not going.’
Jack said, ‘Sometimes I wish I’d stuck to my guns and not recruited you at all.'
‘Oh really? But then we wouldn’t even be together,’ Lizzie said, knowing he was just worried about her and didn’t mean it.
‘People who are meant to be together have a way of finding each other,’ Jack said, with a hint of mystery.
Lizzie narrowed her eyes as she watched his face, now bathed in soft shadows that didn’t detract from how handsome he was. His thick shock of black hair gleamed in the candlelight, and his dark eyes were hooded.
‘I see why you got the codename, Raven. You remind me of one, sometimes,’ Lizzie said.
Jack studied her as he drank his wine. ‘This raven’s job is to protect you. Don’t change the subject, please!’
Jack was like a dog with a bone when he wanted something settled, and Lizzie could see this would not be a straightforward conversation.
She took another sip of wine and lay her cutlery on the plate to show she had finished. The food was as delicious as ever, but the portions were noticeably smaller. Supplies were harder to come by with each passing month and rations eked out further for every meal.
Lizzie said, ‘The Liberty Network is based in Paris. I would have thought, it’s unlikely I’ll see anyone from Reims. When I met with Hannah briefly last time, I saw no one I knew, but like we discussed, a disguise would make it less likely I’d be recognised.’
Jack nodded, and she could tell he was mulling over the possibilities despite his reluctance. Lizzie didn’t want to leave him any more than he wanted her to leave, but the sooner they defeated the Nazis, the sooner this whole nightmare would be over, and they could get on with living a beautiful life together.
That’s what she told herself when she awoke in the middle of the night, anxious about what was in store for them in this war that seemed to only grow more deadly and showed no signs of ending.
Lizzie pressed on. ‘SOE was formed for this very purpose. I can’t say no when Hannah needs me. She’s doing so much to support the Allies. It feels cowardly of me to sit here safe and sound in the office, when I could be in France doing what I can to help the network.’
‘Did you not see the devastation on your way to work this morning, caused by last night’s bombing raids? You’re hardly safe and sound in the Blitz! This must be one of the most dangerous times to live in London.’
‘I saw some bombed houses,’ Lizzie confessed. ‘It was heartbreaking. There was a woman searching through the rubble of her home. Her children were clinging onto her apron as she sobbed.’
Lizzie saw the anger etched into Jack’s features, his jaw hardening as she told him what she had witnessed.
‘I stopped to see if I could help, but there were so many people there already. I didn’t know what more to do. Tragic scenes like that make me want to go after the bastards even more, to be honest.’
They took comfort in being close to each other, despite the daily horrors unfolding around them. They made the most of every snatched moment they could get. It was never far from Lizzie’s mind that it might be the last. Jack was right, you didn’t have to be in enemy territory to be killed in the war. The Blitz had been relentless in London since Black Saturday when she experienced her first bombing raid.
Lizzie reminisced about how young and naive she had been at the beginning of the war. She was young in years—still only twenty-one—but something harder had replaced the naivety.
In a matter of months, she had seen the worst of what humankind could do. Fortunately, she had seen some of the best, too. She thought briefly of the Resistance members in Reims who had been so brave in helping her and Jack to carry out their mission.
‘Raven to Seagrove,’ Jack said, snapping her attention back to the present. ‘Shall we settle up and head off to my place?’
Lizzie tilted her head and smiled at Jack. ‘Yes, darling. Let’s go I told Ma and Pa I’m working the night shift. I hope that’s alright with you?’
‘You never have to ask. You know that. I hate sleeping without you.’
They walked arm in arm, coat collars up, against the bitter January cold.
Jack had moved flat. Now HQ was in Baker Street, it made sense to live closer. Lizzie conveniently lived at Regent’s Park, which was within walking distance. They hopped off the Underground and then approached his door as he fumbled in his pocket for the key, and they entered.
He pulled the blackout curtain and lit some candles that were positioned strategically around the front room. ‘We could work on the decoding, and you would become indispensable here in London. The powers that be were saying we can’t keep relying on Bletchley for everything. We need to get our cipher room fully functioning to support all the new networks. It’s vital so we can speed up the turnaround of the messaging.’
The emotions rolled through Lizzie as Jack helped her shed her coat, and she shivered in the chilly flat. She knew Jack was doing all he could to convince her not to go because he was afraid for her, and she loved him for it. Part of her wished she didn’t need to go, but she must do her duty, or she was certain she would regret it forever.
Their feelings for each other had been intense since the previous summer and there were still days when she couldn’t quite believe how it had all fallen into place for them. They managed to see each other most days, even if their time alone was fleeting. She didn’t want to imagine what it would be like without him in her life.
Jack lit a fire and threw some wood onto the crackling flames.
‘Come closer,’ he said, sliding his arm around Lizzie’s shoulders. ‘This should warm you up in no time.’
He went to put the kettle on, and it wasn’t long before they were sitting beside the roaring fire, drinking piping hot tea.
‘Better now?’ he asked.
Lizzie nodded gratefully. ‘Much. I’m not used to these freezing winters. Jersey is milder than this.’
‘I heard it’s freezing in Paris too,’ Jack said pointedly.
‘I had better get used to it quickly then,’ Lizzie said, placing her cup on the small table and rubbing her hands together in front of the orange flames. ‘Sitting like this reminds me of Seagrove,’ she said .
‘Any word from your grandparents?’
Lizzie felt the panic rise in her throat. ‘Nothing yet.’
‘Those blasted Jerries,’ Jack cursed. He rose from the chair. ‘Chin up, beautiful. I’m sure you’ll hear something soon. Come on, I’ve got some stuff for you to try on.’
Jack drew her to her feet, and she followed him into the bedroom where she saw disguise props laid out all over the bedspread.
‘You have been busy,’ she said. ‘I can always trust you not to do things in halves.’
‘Here, try this, for starters.’
Lizzie placed the blonde wig on her head, tucking her hair in until no brunette strands swept over her shoulders. ‘How do I look?’ she said, posing for Jack, hands on hips and pursing her red lips provocatively.
‘Good enough to eat,’ Jack said. ‘Come here, blondie.’
Lizzie laughed but pressed her hands against his hard chest. ‘No, let me try on a few more things first. I think going to France in disguise is the answer.’
Jack passed her more props and soon she was modelling different styled wigs and glasses with a variety of frames.
Jack stood back and assessed every look. ‘You can pass as a blonde easily if we lighten your eyebrows, but the wigs aren’t ideal for longer missions.’
‘Oh? Why did you bring them then?’ Lizzie asked, disappointment showing on her face, curving her lips into a pout.
‘Because they allow us to see what works, and then you can dye and style your hair for a similar look.’
‘Why not just wear a wig?’ she asked.
‘It’s a dead giveaway if you’re caught and questioned. The first thing the Gestapo would do is undress you and examine your clothes and possessions. If they realise it’s a wig, it screams disguise and enemy agent. ’
‘Oh yes,’ Lizzie said. ‘I didn’t think of that. What an amateur I am.’
‘That’s why you work with an old, experienced spy like me,’ Jack said, winking.
‘You’re not that old,’ Lizzie teased. ‘Well, quite old, but just right for me.’
‘Is that so?’ Jack said, pulling her nearer and closing the gap between them. ‘Come on, I’ve had enough of playing dress-up.’
‘What did you have in mind?’ Lizzie asked, as his lips claimed hers and he kissed her until she quivered with desire.
‘How about playing dress-down? Let’s get this dress off you and then climb into bed before we freeze to death!’
Jack chased Lizzie and she tumbled onto the bed, laughing. Their lovemaking was at first playful but then grew more feverish as Jack touched her and made her scream with pleasure, and she, in turn, delighted him in the ways he had taught her.
Lizzie was a virgin when they met. Jack was a mature, skilled lover who knew exactly how to awaken her desires and introduce her to the joys of the flesh. She was a quick learner and knew intuitively how to bring him to the edge of abandon until he lost himself in her and she in him.
Seagrove and Raven were the perfect match in mind, body, and soul.