Shadows In Paris (Seagrove & Raven #2)

Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

T he train finally lurched into the station and Lizzie looked out of the window and saw the Paris sky was surprisingly bright for this time of year. The officer had slipped out of the compartment and left the train at an earlier stop. She had breathed a sigh of relief and the older woman sitting opposite her smiled knowingly, as though they shared a secret.

Now they both stood to leave the train and parted without saying another word to each other. The silent mutual understanding was all that passed between them.

Lizzie adjusted her beret and checked her coat pockets for her forged identity papers for what must have been the tenth time on the journey. It would be a disaster if she lost them. The rolls of paper francs brushing against her skin reassured her that the money was safe, and so she stretched to retrieve her case and followed the woman out of the external door and onto the platform.

The air was freezing, and the bright blue sky held a deceptive promise it couldn’t keep. Lizzie knotted her woollen scarf tighter around her neck and buttoned up the collar on her coat.

She wished she could have brought her lucky yellow scarf she had worn during her first missions, but Jack had been adamant it would be a dangerous move. Marie LeClair was gone, along with her elaborate cover story, and there would be no lucky yellow scarf with Lizzie this time.

She prayed the luck would accompany her and she would get out alive, but as she walked along the concourse with purposeful steps that were neither fast nor slow, she had no regrets. The sharp pangs of sadness at leaving Jack so abruptly the previous evening had softened, and she clicked into mission mode.

Her fierce love and tender feelings for him must be locked away for now, or she would struggle to operate. This was no time or place for lovesick daydreams and self-indulgence. She knew what she was here to do—or at least—she knew she was here for Hannah to show her what to do. Hannah was the leader of the Liberty Network and now Lizzie was back in the field, terror-tinged excitement surged through her and she was alert. This is what she had been trained for and she suspected this was the true purpose of her moving to London. What had seemed like being forced into fleeing Jersey before the Nazis invaded, she now viewed more as an opportunity to serve her country in a way she could never have done if she’d stayed on the island.

And then there was Jack, of course. His face loomed in her mind and her emotions tangled with her steely resolve.

But no, she sighed impatiently and firmly pushed the feelings aside again. She must draw on her inner strength and be ready for any eventuality. If there was one thing she had learnt in her relatively short time as an agent, it was that anything could happen when you were in occupied territory, and she couldn’t afford to let her guard down .

Jack had explained to her that one reason Military Intelligence discouraged agents from becoming romantically involved was because they endangered their lives as well as each other’s. ‘Your thinking must be unemotional and crystal clear if you are to make the best decisions for the mission, and judgement is too easily clouded when you are in love with another agent.’

‘Arrête mademoiselle,’ a voice stopped Lizzie in her tracks as she headed towards the exit, aiming to blend seamlessly into the crowd, congratulating herself on reaching Paris unhindered.

But it was not to be.

She cast an inquiring look at the French policeman, as if she had no idea why he might stop her.

‘Papers,’ he said in a superior tone, his eyes aloof.

Lizzie slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out her identification papers.

The seamstress had sewn fresh papers into Lizzie’s coat lining for her to take to Hannah. Forging experts had pored over the documents to make them as authentic as possible. Part of Lizzie’s mission was to pay attention to what changes had happened with the Nazi laws and bureaucracy in Paris, so she could pass the details to Baker Street, and they could produce the updated documents.

Lizzie assumed a demure expression whilst the official checked her papers, but her heart pounded, and she felt weak.

Stay calm. You are an ordinary young French woman.

‘Purpose of your visit to Paris?’ he asked, his voice holding an edge of menace.

Lizzie swallowed. Her throat was dry. ‘I’m here to visit my sister. She’s been unwell and is recuperating.’

The policeman continued studying her document, and she wondered what was going through his mind. Did he get a sick pleasure from stopping women from going where they wished to go? Did he get rewarded for catching people out on minor discrepancies in their papers?

She held her breath, waiting to see if the papers would pass his careful inspection.

Lizzie had placed her life in the hands of the agency, and she trusted them implicitly. She knew Jack and Val had done everything they could to get her mission-ready, but things changed frequently and who knew if these papers reflected the German regime’s latest procedures in Paris? There were different regulations and statutes in the various occupied territories, and it was difficult to keep up with them.

Lizzie’s chest felt like it might explode as she stood waiting. Surely, she wouldn’t be stopped so early on her mission, before she’d even got the chance to talk to Hannah. The streets of Paris were just beyond the station door, calling to her.

Slowly the policeman returned her papers, raising his eyes to look at her, and then he stood aside to allow her to pass.

‘Have a pleasant trip, madame.’

Her fingers curled around the papers, and she thanked him, careful not to show her contempt of the Nazi collaborator.

She was only twenty-one, and he had presumed she was unmarried initially, but her papers were having the desired effect. He had automatically treated her with more deference as a married woman. It was a subconscious social habit. Thank goodness Jack had insisted on a new cover name. Not for the first time, she realised how experienced he was in undercover operations, and she was relieved she hadn’t argued with him on the point.

She inhaled the cold fresh air as she headed to the street exit, one hand gripping the handle of her case. As she took her first step onto the Paris pavement, she sent up a prayer of thanks. She found herself calling for God’s help frequently during this crazy war. She imagined there were many people praying for mercy during these brutal times.

The thought reminded her of Pierre’s words, and she could see why he might question God’s plan amid this horror sweeping through the world.

Lizzie had her instructions and set out at a brisk walk. Jack had pored over a map of the city with her for hours. She hadn’t been to Paris since she was a child, and then, she had paid no attention to street names and neighbourhoods. She was a carefree girl on holiday with her family, and the memory of those joyful summer days created a pang of nostalgia that rippled through her.

Jack had pointed out the quarters and neighbourhoods and insisted she study the layout of the city religiously. There was a lot she still didn’t know, but she could visualise some of the map and she was well prepared to meet Hannah.

The air was bone chilling, but the sky was pale blue, and Paris was pretty even in the harsh January temperature. As she walked, she came to a sudden stop and tilted her head upwards as she caught a glimpse of the frost covered Eiffel Tower glinting between buildings. She remembered seeing it when she was a child, but now it was symbolic of the old Paris and her eyes misted over. The famous landmark was imposing, and she marvelled at how it dominated, as though it was right next to her in the centre of the city. She had paid little attention to it back then, but now it made her even more determined to do all she could to free France of Nazi tyranny.

The day would come when people would once again be free to visit Paris on a whim without carrying papers to prove they weren’t enemies of the Reich. Jack talked often of them travelling to France together after the war, and the thought boosted her spirits.

The streets were thronged with German military. There was an army barracks in the city, and Paris was the ultimate reward for soldiers on leave and the dream assignment for high-ranking officers, so it was no surprise.

Lizzie was careful to keep her eyes down and avoided engaging with anyone. She passed a row of tall French government buildings, blood-red Nazi swastika-emblazoned flags flapped in the wind, and German soldiers guarded the entrances.

It was only when she turned a corner and saw the road sign she was looking for, she realised how scared she was, and relief poured through her veins as she slowed her pace.

Things moved quickly after that. She heard a whistle and looked towards the sound. A dark-haired woman sat on a bench, newspaper in one hand. Hannah must have sent one of the other agents to meet her and, for a second, she was disappointed.

Lizzie made her way towards the bench and saw two shabby bicycles propped against the wall nearby.

‘Welcome to Paris, sister,’ the dark-haired woman said, her startling blue eyes flickering over the top of the newspaper to meet hers.

Lizzie gasped. ‘It is you!’

Hannah winked at Lizzie. ‘I wondered if you’d recognise me.’

‘You fooled me, for sure.’

‘You almost fooled me with your blonde hair, but I recognised your walk.’

‘My walk?’ Lizzie asked, taken aback.

‘Yes, you have a distinctive walk. Proud and upright.’

Lizzie was in awe of the legendary agent who had defied all odds to stay alive throughout countless daring Resistance operations.

Lizzie scanned the area to make sure no one was within earshot. ‘What do you think of my new blonde look?’

‘Love it,’ Hannah said.

‘We dyed my hair, so I’d look more like you, but now you’re brunette, we’ve swapped places!’ Lizzie whispered.

Hannah’s full lips curved into a mischievous smile. ‘Maybe, maybe not. Come on, let’s get out of here,’ she said, moving towards the bicycles.

The evening was drawing in fast, and the bitter wind blew in their faces as they whizzed along the bank of the River Seine. Lizzie shivered, but she wasn’t sure whether it was from the cold or from the excitement of being back with Hannah.