40 Lisette
August, 1942 – Paris
Lisette walked briskly along the Seine. She was late to meet Seraphin. Christoph’s scent was all over her body. There’d been no time to wash. She’d tossed the mussel shells into the bin and hurried out. Everything was fragile. There wouldn’t be many more moments with Christoph. Soon she would leave France for ever.
Seraphin was waiting in the shade of a chestnut tree in the Tuileries, his camera in his hand. ‘If anyone asks, I’m taking pictures of the Tuileries to send to my mother, who is too ill to visit Paris any more.’
‘Is that true?’ Lisette asked.
‘Not quite.’ He smiled. ‘But she always did love this spot.’
They set off strolling around the garden. Every so often, Seraphin stopped to take a photo of the flowers in the borders.
‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ Seraphin said, his face grave. ‘General Winkler has come early. To accommodate his new schedule, the dinner will be tomorrow instead of on Monday.’
Lisette stiffened. Tomorrow. That meant she only had one more day with Christoph. That was no time at all.
‘I’m not ready,’ she said. ‘It’s too soon.’
Seraphin glanced at her. ‘But you know what to do. It’s simply a matter of doing it sooner rather than later. And then, you’ll be on your way back home.’
Home. England. Lisette couldn’t imagine it. Strange as it sounded, Paris had come to feel like home. But this ending was inevitable. Her time here had been part of a mission, nothing more. Christoph had never been part of the equation. She strengthened her resolve. There was one last task to carry out, and she would use all her skill and determination to do it.
‘You can count on me,’ she said.
‘I know I can. Your professionalism has impressed me throughout. I’m going to miss working with you.’ Seraphin lifted up the camera. ‘May I take a photo of you? A proper one this time, not for identity papers. I’d like something to remember you by, and then, one day, I can tell my daughter about all the things we did during the war.’
Lisette smiled. ‘I’m sure Estelle will be very proud when she hears about your work.’
Some passing soldiers whistled appreciatively as Lisette stood next to a bed of pink and white roses. She couldn’t bear to look at the camera. Instead, she gazed towards Le Meurice, wondering where Christoph was and what he’d be doing. The thought of him made her smile and, at that moment, she heard the shutter click.
‘ Magnifique .’ Seraphin nodded to the soldiers and linked arms with Lisette. ‘They’d never suspect we’re plotting the downfall of their superiors,’ he whispered.
Lisette had been going over the plan in her mind. ‘There’s one problem: I don’t have the vial yet,’ she said. ‘I gave you the poison for safekeeping, remember?’
‘It was delivered to Le Meurice yesterday.’
‘Not to me.’
‘You’re not our only contact in the hotel; it went to another agent there. As per protocol, I can’t tell you who. I didn’t want to risk you having the vial any sooner. Your German chap makes it too dangerous. But once the cooking starts, you’ll find it in among the ingredients, don’t worry.’
Seraphin stopped in the shade of the chestnut trees, his face grave. ‘There’s something else I need to tell you. The plan with the poison is a delicate balancing act. If anything should happen, if we can’t use the vial as intended, then I’m afraid I must ask one last thing of you.’
The breeze moved the trees and the scent of roses wafted through the air. ‘What’s that?’ Lisette said warily.
‘This order has come from London. It’s not my choice, and I know how hard it will be. But I have no doubt you have the strength and capabilities to see it through.’ He paused. ‘You see, if the plan fails, you’ve been instructed to move on to the Kommandant.’
Lisette froze. ‘What?’
‘We know he’s interested in you. If for some reason the plan goes awry, that’s what you must do. Cast off Leutnant Baumann. Cultivate a relationship with the Kommandant. The information he carries would be even more vital for our aims. Surely you can see that.’
Lisette stepped back. Seraphin’s face was impossible to read.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘I’m carrying out the plan tomorrow. Then I’m leaving France. That’s what we agreed.’
Seraphin nodded. ‘Yes, of course, that is Plan A. But as I’ve learned to my own cost, you always need a fall-back plan. The Kommandant is your Plan B.’
Lisette shuddered. Stay in Paris. End things with Christoph. Begin a romance with the Kommandant. Seraphin was overestimating her abilities and her sense of duty if he thought she was capable of that. ‘The plan will work. It has to,’ she said.
Seraphin touched her cheek. ‘I hope it does, for your sake. But if it doesn’t, I’m sorry, but you must follow orders and become the Kommandant’s mistress.’
Extra soldiers had been posted on the door of Le Meurice. Lisette showed her papers and they let her in without a smile. Le Meurice had become even more dangerous; eyes watching everywhere. Lisette kept her head down and went straight to the kitchen. Her mind scrambled to make sense of Seraphin’s words. There was no knowing if the plan would go ahead or not. She had to stay alert.
The staff were huddled in a group, complaining in nervous voices.
‘We’ll never be ready in time,’ Guillaume, one of the chefs de partie, said.
‘What’s going on?’ Lisette took off her coat and hung it behind the door.
‘That chap Winkler is in Paris, so the dinner is tomorrow,’ Guillaume said. ‘The SS are turning the place upside down. They’re in the cellar now. M. Dupont has the lucky job of showing them round.’
The SS. Lisette’s stomach turned cold. ‘We’d better get on with sourcing the ingredients then, and prepare what we can today.’
Lisette tried not to think about the vial: to whom it had been delivered or when it would be passed on to her.
The staff followed her lead and got to work. When Christoph came into the kitchen with a soldier, no one batted an eyelid. They were used to his visits. Lisette didn’t notice him until it was almost too late. Christoph held the young man’s sleeve, as if directing him. The man looked petrified and the uniform was ill-fitting.
‘Christoph,’ she said.
He put his fingers to his lips and kept on moving. Christoph and the young man went past Lisette and through the back door, out into the street.
Lisette frowned. She hadn’t seen the young soldier before, and he hadn’t looked well. She wondered when Christoph would be back. She fetched some flour, butter and eggs and started to prepare the choux pastry, puzzling over it all.
‘Stop what you’re doing,’ a voice shouted, ‘and don’t move.’
Lisette froze, pastry stuck to her fingers. Soldiers swarmed the kitchen dressed in black uniforms, led by a tall, thin man. ‘That’s the man who was searching the place,’ Guillaume whispered. ‘SS-Sturmbannführer Richter.’
In among the group was M. Dupont, jostled and pushed by two armed men. The Kommandant strode behind, his expression grim.
‘You have a traitor in your midst,’ SS-Sturmbannführer Richter said.
Time slowed down. The blood drained from Lisette’s face. She leaned against the counter to steady herself.
SS-Sturmbannführer Richter pointed at M. Dupont and the soldiers shoved him forward. ‘He is a member of the resistance and is intent on murdering the guests as they eat.’
Lisette’s heart went cold. You’re not our only contact in the hotel . She’d suspected that the head chef was a collaborator. He was always friendly with the Kommandant and had special privileges in the hotel. But M. Dupont must have been the agent Seraphin had been talking about, the one to whom he had sent the vial.
The soldier aimed his gun at the back of M. Dupont’s head. His face was white and covered with sweat.
‘What’s going on, Herr SS-Sturmbannführer?’ the Kommandant said, standing by the kitchen door, a deep frown on his face.
‘Your head chef planned to poison us all,’ Major Richter replied. He held up a vial. ‘We found this on his person. A few drops in the meal and the guests would have been severely ill within hours or possibly even dead.’
The poison. If M. Dupont had the vial, then he knew it was destined for Lisette. Her stomach lurched. He knew enough to implicate her.
‘It seems you’ve not been as assiduous in your preparations as General Winkler would have hoped,’ SS-Sturmbannführer Richter said, enjoying the Kommandant’s discomfort. ‘I’m arresting the entire kitchen staff and taking them for interrogation.’
Lisette glanced at the back door. A soldier was already stationed there.
‘Of course,’ the Kommandant said, ‘but I can vouch for one member of staff here.’ The Kommandant swivelled his eyes towards Lisette and smiled.
‘Mlle Sylvie will stay,’ he said. ‘I need her to create the most splendid dinner Paris has ever seen. She’s the only one talented enough to do it, now you’ve arrested that man. Don’t worry, she’s been interrogated recently, so I know she’s clean.’
‘Very well,’ SS-Sturmbannführer Richter said. ‘Keep her. The rest are coming with me.’
He kicked M. Dupont with the toe of his boot. Lisette turned away. Another agent brought down in front of her eyes. It was too much to bear.
One by one the kitchen staff were taken away. The air was bitter with fear, and some were weeping. Soon the kitchen was empty. How prescient Seraphin’s words had been. If something happens, if the plan with the poison goes wrong, you must move on to the Kommandant . A cold weight settled in her heart.
Before she could clear her thoughts, the Kommandant came over, smug with the role of being her protector.
‘So,’ he said, ‘it’s in your hands now.’
‘But I have no staff. I can’t do the dinner all by myself,’ she said.
‘I don’t mean the dinner. You can call in some help from Maxim’s. I’ll pay double what they earn. No, I mean the situation between us. SS-Sturmbannführer Richter would have taken you too if I hadn’t spoken. One good turn deserves another, don’t you think?’
Lisette took a deep breath. Her mind raced at double pace. She was here to fight the Germans. She’d followed orders to the last, apart from falling in love with Leutnant Baumann. Now she had to put that aside. Seraphin had ordered her to foster a relationship with the man standing in front of her. The man leaning towards her and pressing his thin lips against hers. Her mind told her that she should do her duty, but the Kommandant’s breath was sour, his hand rough. She couldn’t bear it.
‘I’m sorry, it’s just …’ she said, pulling back.
The Kommandant stared at her, displeased.
‘I will repay you. I want to. It’s just …’ Lisette scrambled for excuses. ‘I’m in shock. So much has happened, and now I must prepare for the dinner. I don’t want to let you down.’
The Kommandant’s face softened. He gripped her hand and pulled her closer.
‘I understand,’ he said. ‘You’re overwhelmed. After tomorrow’s dinner is complete, we’ll have more than enough time for each other.’
He pressed her close and kissed her cheek. She shuddered inwardly.
‘My beautiful Sylvie,’ he said. ‘It will be worth the wait …’