Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
W hen she saw the soldier lurking on the track, Lizzie reduced the speed she was pedalling and looked from side to side. There was no alternative route. She’d come too far to turn back now without looking suspicious. The soldier was the same one who winked at her so brazenly as he marched past the butcher’s shop.
The blood rushed to Lizzie’s head as she neared him, panic spiralling through her body. Not only was she scared of what he might do to her, but she also had the envelope. The contents were sure to be incriminating and if the soldier opened it, he would know without a doubt she was a British agent.
Her hands shook slightly as fear overwhelmed her. She was breathless as she gripped the handlebars to steady herself and repeated a stay calm mantra in her head.
As she moved nearer to the soldier, as slowly as she dared without falling off the wobbling bicycle, he held up one large palm as a clear stop order.
Lizzie stopped abruptly, keeping some distance between them. She raised her face tentatively to meet his eyes and tried to force a respectful smile onto her lips but failed miserably. She was too scared, and it showed.
Lizzie slid off the bicycle and stood on the opposite side, inwardly cursing her awful luck of running into him again.
‘Good afternoon, fr?ulein,’ he said.
Lizzie nodded. She was proficient in German, but she wasn’t about to let him know. ‘I am going home,’ she said politely, praying he was a gentleman and would step aside and let her pass. Her chest was clamped so tightly she couldn’t get any oxygen.
He moved closer and the only barrier between them was the bicycle. If he wanted, he could reach out and touch her. Lizzie trembled but did her best to maintain her composure and act like she was just naturally apprehensive of being stopped by a German soldier.
He leaned over the bicycle and closed the gap between them until his overpowering smell filled her nostrils. It was an unpleasant mix of sweat and cigarettes, and it tickled Lizzie’s throat, making her want to heave.
‘Oh no, you are not,’ he said, wedging himself against the bicycle so his upper body now touched hers. ‘Follow me, please,’ he ordered.
How was this happening? In all the times she’d gone back and forth to the city via this route, no one had ever stopped her. And now she had information that could not, under any circumstances, fall into German hands without dire consequences. Her parents’ faces flashed into her mind, and she regretted not telling them the truth. They may never see her again and she hadn’t even said a proper goodbye.
Jack would deliver her letter if she didn’t return.
She stood there, unmoving, trying to think of a way out.
‘You know, if you treat me with respect, mademoiselle, we could get on well, you and I,’ he said .
Lizzie’s stomach churned as his rancid breath washed over her.
‘I am expected at home,’ she said, trying to keep her voice pleasant. There was no point antagonising him.
‘Why are you in such a hurry to get away from me? I saw you queueing at the shop for those pitiful rations. I can give you food supplies and even champagne if you’re willing to show me a good time,’ he leered, growing bolder and touching her cheek.
Lizzie worked hard to keep her expression from showing her disdain. ‘Please let me go home. I’m sure such a handsome man as you has his pick of the girls who would jump at the chance to be with you,’ she said to flatter him.
‘Follow me, I said,’ he barked in broken French. ‘Do you have trouble understanding orders?’
Lizzie had met bullies before and this man was clearly a bully, picking on a young woman half his size.
‘It isn’t appropriate for me to go anywhere with you alone like this. What would your commanding officer say if he knew you stopped me against my will?’
The soldier pawed her shoulder. ‘Oh, little French girl, I can see you are begging for it. Like to play hard to get, do you? Well, let’s see what I can do for you. I’m sure you will be more than satisfied after the cowardly French weaklings you have known. It’s time a real man showed you how it’s done.’
Anger ripped through Lizzie, and suddenly she wasn’t scared anymore. Before she could stop herself, the venomous words flew out of her mouth. ‘Like to pick on defenceless women, do you? Can’t get a woman to be with you without forcing yourself on her? That’s the problem with bullies!’
Then she came to her senses, realising what she had said.
The soldier’s sweat-coated face turned the colour of pale salmon at her insults. ‘Arrrr,’ he roared, and he tore her fingers from the bicycle handles and threw it to the ground in one vicious movement.
Her raincoat tumbled out of the basket and landed in a messy heap on the ground. ‘You French whore! I’ll teach you to speak to me like that. You are the property of the Reich now, and no one cares what I do to you. Do you understand?’
He kicked the bicycle and threw the raincoat into the long grass at the side of the track. Then he grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly behind him.
Lizzie tripped, but he dragged her along and her knee bled. Just as he pulled her to the edge of the grass, she ripped the yellow scarf from her neck and threw it onto the hedgerow before he tugged her around the corner and out of sight. Then he tossed her onto the grass behind some bushes, panting with a mixture of exertion and excitement.
She lay there, stealing herself for the inevitable. His eyes were glazed as he unbuckled his belt and slowly undid his trousers, clearly enjoying watching her squirm.
Frantically scanning the ground, she looked for anything she could use to defend herself, but there were only twigs and pebbles within reach.
This wasn’t how she had imagined her first time, but if him having his way with her would distract him so she could retrieve the envelope and deliver it to London, then at least something good could come of it. She was no match for him physically and had no way to fend him off.
‘What is your name?’ she said, changing tack, trying to slow him down.
‘You may call me, master,’ he growled, as he fumbled to remove his jacket and dropped his trousers to reveal his underwear and thick hairy thighs.
Lizzie was reeling. There was no way out of this. Her knife was out of reach in her raincoat, but maybe that was just as well. She had no taste for murder—even for someone like this.
She considered shouting for help but didn’t think anyone would hear her and she calculated she would only enrage her attacker further. And even if someone came, it was too dangerous. They could stumble upon the envelope.
No, she couldn’t risk being discovered as a British agent.
Lizzie’s mind ticked over and she partially resigned herself to what the soldier was about to do, even as bile rose in her throat at the thought of it.
There was nothing for it—she would have to sacrifice herself for her country. Could she just close her eyes and think of England, as the old saying went?
The soldier flung his heavy weight on her, crushing her slight body with his and grasping at the hem of her dress as he grabbed her bare thighs with his rough hands.
Despite Lizzie’s decision to let him have his way for the greater good, his violent actions filled her with pure rage, and she could not stop herself from fighting back instinctively. She lashed out at him with her fists as he pushed himself against her thigh and ripped off her underwear.
Lizzie couldn’t let herself just lie back and take it. Why should she let this ogre have her virginity just because he was stronger than her?
Although she was a virgin, she could tell he was mad with lust as he reached for her and manoeuvred himself between her thighs. It was a language that needed no words. They were both puffing and panting. He with his desire to dominate her, and Lizzie with the exertion of trying to fend him off.
He edged even closer, and his overpowering smell of stale sweat rushed at her, and she thought she would vomit.
The soldier was grunting now as he rubbed against her, and he was just about to force himself on her, when with all the energy she could muster, she pulled her head up and in one swift movement bit his shoulder—hard—through his undershirt.
‘Ouch!’ He cried out and released his hold on her briefly as he touched his shoulder. Then he looked at her and said, ‘You bitch! You daughter of a whore,’ he screamed, losing it completely and whacking her across the cheek as he cursed.
Lizzie wriggled to escape him, but it was no good. Just as she shifted from under him, he pulled her back again, in a vice like grip.
‘I told you, French whore, we could have had a good time together if you played nicely, but now I am going to have to punish you. Think you can bite a German sergeant? I’ll teach you who is in charge here, and soon you’ll be begging for more.’
Lizzie’s face throbbed, and she lay there exhausted on the hard ground. There was no way out of this. Tears filled her eyes, but she did her best to hold them back. She didn’t want to give this brute the satisfaction of knowing he had broken her.
The fight seemed to excite him even more, and he reached for her again, intent on having her this time. Lizzie spat in his face, and he smacked her even harder. She started sobbing, as much from frustration as from the pain. There was no point fighting anymore, it was just making things worse. She screwed her eyes tightly shut, her heart beating wildly as she lay there pinned beneath him, praying silently.
Please God, let this be over quickly.
Then there was a rustle in the bushes and his heavy weight lifted off her like an answer to her prayers and she could breathe again. Lizzie opened her eyes and saw her attacker floundering in mid-air next to her, trying to fight someone off from behind him.
She heard a familiar, deep voice .
‘Touch her again and you die,’ said an ominous growl. ‘Second thoughts, I have to kill you anyway, you vermin Nazi rapist.’
The soldier was thrust aside like a helpless rag doll.
Then she heard two consecutive gunshots and saw the soldier’s eyes bulge as he collapsed on the ground. The silencer muffled the sound, but still it was loud enough to trigger Lizzie out of her daze.
Jack loomed over her as she tried to scramble upright. He leaned down and held out one hand to help her up. ‘Are you alright?’ he asked, his voice tender.
She just nodded, unable to speak, clutching at his comforting hand as it cocooned hers.
‘We have to get out of here before anyone wonders where he’s gone and starts looking for him.’
Lizzie had never been so relieved to see anyone in her life.