The Paris Affair

Prologue Lisette

Prologue

Lisette

August, 1942 – Paris

Lisette closed the door and pressed her forehead against the wood. The narrow hallway of the apartment was dark. The scent of Christoph’s cologne – woodsmoke and bergamot – still cloaked her skin. The taste of that last kiss lingered in her mouth, warm and urgent … but now he had gone.

The crack of a bomb cut through her reverie. She had to think fast . He’d be back before morning. That’s what he’d promised. She picked up the bag and the pot of Eintopf mit Bohnen und Kartoffeln and walked through the apartment, averting her eyes from the bedroom door. But her body remembered: the heat of his skin, his lips moving downwards.

Lisette exhaled. Remembering wouldn’t help anyone. Her breathing slowed. She’d trained for moments like this. Emotions had no place here. It was her feelings that had got her into this mess in the first place.

In the living room, she grasped the blackout curtain and pulled it aside. Her fingers trembled. The rooftops were pearlescent in the moonlight. A formation of planes flew low in the sky. She followed the hum of the engines. The planes were heading west, in the direction of Boulogne-Billancourt. Another bomb exploded, louder this time. She winced, heart stammering. The sky flashed unnaturally bright. There wasn’t much time.

The kitchen door opened. The creak startled her. A young man with a thick shock of hair stood in the doorway. She let out her breath. Of course, Jacques. She’d forgotten he was here. He was older than she remembered from the brief glimpse she’d had the other day, in his early twenties, she guessed. He came to the window, limping slightly.

‘What are we going to do?’ he whispered in French.

His voice was deep, but she detected a tremor. Lisette remembered the receipt. The reference to ‘Jacques M.’ Christoph had helped keep him safe. She couldn’t abandon him here.

‘Are you strong enough to travel?’ she asked.

Jacques straightened up. ‘Of course.’

‘Then I think we should leave,’ she said. ‘ Maintenant .’ Saying the words out loud made them real.

Swiftly, she calculated. There was enough food in the cupboards for a few days. Paris would be quiet tonight on account of the bombing. Lisette knew the secret ways, the doors it was safe to knock on. She could get them out.

‘What about Christoph?’ Jacques jerked his head towards the door.

Lisette’s heart contracted. It wasn’t safe to write a note. She must leave no trace of herself or Jacques. Christoph would only complicate things. Now was the perfect time to go. She bit her lip. It would break Christoph’s heart, but what choice did she have?

Another bomb detonated. Closer this time. They both flinched. The girders of the Eiffel Tower glowed briefly from the explosion.

Jacques turned to Lisette. ‘Are you sure you want to go out in this?’

Lisette shrugged. ‘I don’t think we have a choice. Would you rather stay here?’

Jacques looked around the apartment, rubbing the stubble on his chin, and gave a brief smile. ‘No, I’d rather take my chance with you.’

Lisette nodded. She drew the curtains closed and glanced at the bag. Inside, Christoph had packed her recipe book and a change of clothes. That was all. Plenty of room for tins and the Eintopf mit Bohnen und Kartoffeln. Her insides weakened at the thought of the journey ahead. My love, I hope you understand why I had to go.