Chapter 27
CHAPTER 27
T he large bedroom was dark, with not even a ray of light from the blacked-out windows. Lizzie felt two large hands grip her feet beneath the cover and tug her towards the bottom of the bed. She cried out and one of the hands clapped over her mouth like a muzzle.
She bit into the soft flesh and was rewarded with a sharp curse in a deep voice, which she guessed was Charlie’s. The hand momentarily released its pressure, then a piece of rough material pressed onto her eyes, and she was thrown over one broad shoulder like a sack of laundry and marched out of the room. She lashed out with her legs and shouted Mon Dieu.
Her captor was so big, her attempts to free herself were useless as he gripped her effortlessly with his meaty hands so she could barely move. The blindfold disorientated her even more, and she didn’t know where he was taking her, but she felt the movement of his legs walking downstairs. She heard the swing of a door and the cool night air hit her face and her bare legs beneath her nightdress.
Then there was a sliding sound she identified as that of a vehicle door. She was dumped onto a cold leather seat, and her blindfold removed.
Lizzie blinked and tried to make out the details of the faces in the back of the van. She saw the other girls were with her, all in various states of dishevelled nightwear.
‘What the hell is this?’ squealed an outraged voice with an east London accent. ‘You can’t bloody do this! You gave us no warnin' at all.’
Charlie growled. ‘The Gestapo won’t be serving you breakfast in bed before they capture you, missy. You’d better buck up your ideas or you won’t last ten minutes in enemy territory.’
Lizzie shivered, partly from the cold and partly from the fear of what might be ahead of them. It was pitch black out the window, the moon lurking behind cloud and not even a glimmer of light from the big house.
She guessed this wasn’t called Intensive Training for nothing. She’d had it easy with Jack and Val because of the urgency of the courier operation. Now she was in with the other girls. Val had warned her it would be tough. She’d also reminded her to only speak in French if the instructors sprung any night-time surprises on her.
Thank God for Val, who was so obviously rooting for her. Otherwise, she may have lapsed into English like the Eastender.
‘But I’m wearing my nightie,’ the girl spluttered, running her hand through her tousled curls. ‘Surely we can change for whatever you’re planning.’
‘You’ll be wearing regular clothes for the mission behind enemy lines. Anything can happen at any time, and you’ll be dressed however you’re dressed. The mission is on every minute of every day, and you can’t break your cover. If you do, you’ll be captured, tortured and if you’re lucky enough to stay alive, you’ll be packed off to a labour camp, where you’ll probably wish you were dead.’
The poor girl whined a bit more, and Lizzie thought she sounded like she was about to cry.
‘What’s your name?’ Charlie prodded Lizzie’s shoulder in the darkness.
‘Marie. Marie LeClair,’ she said, her voice low and clear. The words sounded calm to her own ears, and she was thankful she’d already been in the field and wasn’t so easily fazed as she might have been if she was a newbie thrown into this stressful situation.
She remembered Jack’s stern words on the first day of her training. ‘You must eat, breathe, talk, think, dress, and sleep like a French girl. The slightest slip could get you killed.’
‘Where are you taking us?’ asked a girl they knew as Anna.
‘That’s for me to know and you to find out. All you girls need to know is your mission is about to start. It’s going to be gruelling, and you’re going to be tired, cold, thirsty, and hungry. You’re going to run across country terrain all night, like you might have to do when—if—you are selected by SOE for an operation.’
‘I don’t know how you expect us to run all night with no shoes. I’m barefoot! You must be out of your mind,’ the Eastender screeched.
Charlie shouted, ‘Stop the vehicle!’ The driver halted abruptly, and they all shot forward, crashing into each other in the back of the van. There were more moans and huffing and puffing. The silver moon teased them with a sliver of light as Charlie slid the door open and bellowed, ‘Out you get, Eastender. 1 2 3.’ He grabbed her and hauled her towards the door. ‘No, no, don’t leave me alone,’ she begged, sobbing now.
‘You would get us all killed with your whining and complaining. It’s over for you. Get out and make your way back to the house. You are released from the training.’
The door slammed shut and the girl’s sobs were lost to the night breeze as the van resumed its course and the girls looked at one another in stunned silence. No one wanted to meet the same fate as the discarded Eastender, so no one uttered another word.
Lizzie rubbed her arms to warm up and mentally prepared herself. She remembered how she had run through the vineyards for hours with Jack and it gave her courage.
You can do this, Marie LeClair. You must do this.
The van trundled on through the dark along a bumpy track for what seemed like an age but was probably only a few minutes. Lizzie shot forwards again when the vehicle stopped.
‘The mission starts now even if your feet hurt, and you would kill for a hot bath. Out with you all,’ shouted Charlie. ‘Find your way back to the house, and you can go back to bed for a few hours. This was just a drill, albeit not a pleasant one.’
Lizzie was furthest from the door and sat beside Charlie. The girls jumped out one by one and just as Lizzie was about to follow, Charlie laid his hand on her arm. ‘You did good. You kept your cool and didn’t break cover, not even when I pulled you from your bed. I see why Val is impressed.’
Lizzie thanked him and climbed out of the van and set off barefoot after the others back along the track as the stones bit into the soles of her feet. The van turned around and sped off, leaving a trail of dust that made them all cough.
‘He’s a right bastard,’ said a girl’s voice.
‘A right handsome bastard though,’ tittered another voice.
‘You’re not wrong,’ replied the first voice. ‘I think he’s got a thing for Jersey girl, here, though. ’
Lizzie didn’t rise to the bait. None of the others said anything until they reached the end of the track.
‘Which way, now?’ Lizzie asked in French, addressing the shadowy figures of the other girls.
‘Miss goody two shoes,’ said one. ‘We’re not all going to France, you know.’
‘Perhaps not, but if you break your cover, you’ll be out of the training like the other girl.’
There were some more grumblings, and then the girls started speaking in their cover languages. One spoke in German, another in a language Lizzie couldn’t identify, and yet another in what she thought must be Dutch.
After a few failed attempts to communicate, Lizzie waved her hands around to indicate they should try to use sign language. The ridiculousness of the situation cut through the tension between them, and they all dissolved into laughter.
After taking several wrong turns and with bleeding feet from the rough track, they were grateful to feel their toes touch the soft grass of the estate gardens.
‘You made it,’ Charlie said, when they piled in through the back door to the big staff kitchen. ‘Well done, girls. Pull up a seat and Cook will serve you a well-earned breakfast. After that you can have a few more hours’ kip and then we’ve got a day ahead of us that will make yesterday look like child’s play.’
‘Did Eastender find her way back?’ Lizzie asked Charlie who had pulled out a seat for her next to him.
He nodded. ‘Yes, but she’ll be shipped out in the morning.’
‘Shipped out?’ Lizzie wondered if she’d misread the situation, and the girl was going on a mission after all.
‘Shipped out back home. She’s not cut out for SOE. We have no room for moaners and whiners.’
‘Ah, I see,’ Lizzie said, accepting the cup of deliciously pungent coffee with a grateful smile and digging into her plate of egg on toast as if she hadn’t seen food for a week. She was ravenous, exhausted, and her feet hurt like the devil.
But she had passed stage one of the group training and that meant she was on track to fulfil her ambition to do all she could to protect their freedoms. And she would get to see Jack again.
One way or another.