Shadows In Paris (Seagrove & Raven #2)

Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

L izzie and Hannah rose at dawn and curled up under blankets on the sofa to keep out the numbing cold.

They drank hot, bitter coffee and talked in hushed tones.

‘I’ve been wondering. How did you find this house?’ Lizzie asked, her eyes still groggy from sleep.

‘It was through a series of coincidences and a friend of the Resistance. Terrible for the family who had to leave, but fortunate for us. My contact arranged the documents for me to show I live here legally if anyone comes knocking.’

‘That’s good to know, and fortunate indeed.’

‘Yes, it gave me a legitimate address for the German High Command job. What better proof of a Reich-loving citizen than snapping up a Jewish-owned house?’

‘I wonder where they are now,’ Lizzie said.

‘Hopefully somewhere far from Europe. Perhaps they made it to America.’ Hannah released a heavy sigh. ‘Talking of people on the run, we can’t have our guests staying for long. A family was not what I thought to find down there last night! ’

Lizzie said, ‘I’m sorry about that. You’ve got so much to handle already. I didn’t know what else to do, and Margot was desperate. She said her neighbours are informers.’

‘No, don’t be sorry. You did what you had to do. Sadly, there is no shortage of neighbours looking for an opportunity to line their pockets and ingratiate themselves with the Reich.’

‘Isn’t having them here a decent hiding place? I imagine the last house they’d expect to find a Jewish family in the basement is in the home of the secretary to a high-ranking official at German High Command.’

‘Let’s hope so, but still, it’s no way for children to live, those little angels. They need fresh air and exercise. Also, let’s keep in mind I’ve only been in the job one day. I certainly won’t be on any of the official most trusted lists!’

Lizzie nodded. ‘I still can’t believe we need to hide them. My mother says people really thought the First War with Germany was the war to end all wars. Now here we are at war again, not much over twenty years later.’

‘If I hadn’t seen what they did to Jews in Germany, and anyone else who didn’t fit into their twisted Aryan vision, I would have trouble believing it, too. Mark my words, they are just another family they mean to dispose of. Even if Isaac gives them the research they want, they’ll still send him to a camp or blow his brains out when they’re done with him.’

Lizzie’s eyes widened as she processed Hannah’s words. ‘You must have seen so many terrible things when you were in Berlin.’

‘I try not to think of it much, but seeing that poor family brings it all rushing back.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Lizzie said, her eyes welling up.

‘From what I hear, it is likely my family was murdered, or they are rotting away in a camp somewhere, so I don’t hold out hope. We won’t find out who survived until this war is over, and who knows how many prisoners will make it through to that day? The Allies must win, or thousands, perhaps even millions, will never know what happened to their family and friends.’

Lizzie didn’t press for more details when Hannah changed the subject. She couldn’t imagine how devastating it must be to not know, for years, if your loved ones were alive or dead.

Hannah explained a rough plan for the escape of the scientist’s family in the basement. It was more daring than anything Lizzie had heard, but she wasn’t surprised. Hannah was known for her daring ops, and a part of her was thrilled to be here to witness her in action.

They took what they had down to the family for breakfast and the children hopped and chirped like little birds, despite their dismal surroundings. Lizzie entertained them whilst Hannah outlined the plan for their parents.

‘How did they take it?’ Lizzie asked when they were back upstairs.

‘Quite well, considering what they’ll have to do. His wife is so grateful he isn’t turning himself in she would agree to anything. At least they have a chance of survival like this.’

‘And Isaac, what did he say?’

‘He’s concerned about how his wife and children will manage to cross the Pyrenees in these freezing conditions.’

‘A valid concern,’ Lizzie said. ‘Has anyone made it over the border into Spain via that route?’

Hannah nodded. ‘Yes, we got two airmen out that way recently. The journey is treacherous, but it’s better than staying in France, like sitting ducks waiting to be shot.’

Hannah explained more details to Lizzie about the workings of the Liberty Network, and then they both hurried to get ready to leave.

When Hannah reappeared, Lizzie stared. ‘Even in that frumpy get-up and schoolteacher glasses, you’re still a knockout.’

‘You’re not helping!’ Hannah smiled. ‘Agents must be unremarkable to blend in. The only knocking out I plan to do is more of a violent nature…’

‘Well, you do a terrific job with your disguises. The blonde hair and blue eyes are a lucky combination for undercover work at the Reich. All I’m saying is, don’t be shocked if you attract suitors.’

Lizzie was still surprised when she looked in the mirror and saw her new blonde hair. Hannah said it suited her green eyes and they really could pass for sisters.

They rode away from the farmhouse in silence on their bicycles, both thinking about the desperate family in the basement who had nothing but each other and a slim chance of escaping the Nazis.

Lizzie and Hannah cycled as fast as they could to get warm in the icy morning air. When they reached the city, they parted with just a nod. Hannah continued towards German High Command and Lizzie followed Hannah’s directions to the shops to buy food with their ration coupons. With six mouths to feed, she needed to be successful.

Waiting in line for supplies in Paris was just as tiresome as it had been in Reims, except instead of melting beneath the blazing noon sun, now she was shaking from cold and could barely feel her fingers and toes. She wondered how Jeanne, her friend in Reims, was doing.

One of the most difficult things about this work was you forged incredible bonds with people so quickly, but then you had to leave them behind. It was heart wrenching, and Lizzie hoped she would see Jeanne again. Perhaps she was reading another agent’s tea leaves like she had read hers in the cosy cottage near the vineyards, which was Lizzie’s first safe house.

Lizzie waited for hours in the queue, and when she finally reached the front, the shopkeeper handed her a small, wrapped portion of chicken and some margarine. She asked if he had any eggs, and he laughed, as if she’d told him the funniest joke, but there was a bitter look in his eyes. ‘Let me know if you find some,’ he said. ‘I haven’t seen any for weeks.’

Lizzie began queueing again in the shop next door. Vegetables weren’t rationed, but it was still a hell of a fight to get any. After another tiresome but uneventful wait, she left the shop, ecstatic she’d got a swede and a cabbage. The children in the basement were in her mind constantly, and the thought of being able to cook a decent meal for them spurred her on.

By now, the chill had penetrated her bones. Just one more errand and she could leave. She followed Hannah’s instructions and found the café she had told her to visit. At least she could have a hot drink before making the journey back to the farmhouse with her hard-won supplies. The sky was gunmetal grey, and snow floated on the air like particles of icing sugar.

The café was warmer than outside, but she kept her coat on and sat at an empty table next to the window, overlooking the river like Hannah instructed her. There was only a handful of customers, and she was relieved she didn’t have to go into one of the busier establishments the soldiers from the Paris barracks frequented. She’d seen them loitering in the entrance of a café and heard them whistling at French women, trying to catch their attention.

Lizzie drank her coffee and gazed out of the window at the swirling snow that formed magical shapes pirouetting along the choppy surface of the Seine. The Eiffel Tower draped in snowflakes was like a scene from a Christmas card, and the sight enchanted Lizzie as the warmth brought her senses back to life.

Lizzie wore a red coat and matching beret that Hannah had lent her and told her to wear for this meeting.

‘It’s the sign for the contact I told you about. I won’t have time to meet with him now because of my job, so you must go in my place. He should recognise you by my coat and hat. I told him someone else would meet with him. Remember, don’t speak to him unless he uses the special code, and he matches the description I gave you.’

Ten minutes passed, and the contact didn’t enter the café. The snow was swirling more heavily now, and Lizzie hoped he would still appear, or she would need to return tomorrow. The more times she waited in the same place, the more dangerous it became. She had learnt she must blend into her surroundings, and returning in the same outfit would be riskier, especially as the café wasn’t busy.

Another ten minutes had passed, Lizzie noted as she glanced at her watch whilst she pretended to be absorbed in reading a discarded newspaper. The light was fading fast, and the snowy afternoon was already transforming into dusk. Lizzie decided she would wait another ten minutes and then leave. Hannah had warned her the contact might not make it and she shouldn’t stay longer than half an hour.

The door opened and Lizzie raised her head and cast her eyes over the new customer to see if he matched the description of the contact. She did a double take before she could stop herself. Then her eyes darted downwards, and she buried her head in the newspaper, praying the man hadn’t recognised her. Footsteps crossed the café, and she heard a pleasant voice greet the proprietor.

Lizzie clutched her hands together beneath the table and pretended to read. Her heart clattered in her chest, when the voice she had heard before and had hoped never to hear again echoed over her shoulder.

‘What a magnificent surprise to see you here, madame.’