Chapter 17
Chapter 17
Fitz fought to control her breathing as an adrenaline rush of relief swarmed through her body. She had to force herself not to break into a run as she walked away from the checkpoint. She could hear the officer’s car disappear into the distance and it wasn’t until they were out of sight of the checkpoint that she allowed herself to relax for a moment.
She looked down at Yvette. ‘You were so clever,’ she said. ‘So very clever, to fiddle with your teddy’s ribbon. Well done.’
She put her arm around Yvette’s shoulder and gave her a brief hug and Yvette rewarded her with a warm smile.
As they neared the village, Fitz spotted one of the narrow tracks she had been looking for and guided Yvette off the main road. She relaxed a little, feeling marginally safer taking the path along the edge of the fields. Her earlier plan to rest had now been relegated. Her main aim was to get to Josselin as soon as possible and make contact with the resistance.
Two hours of walking and they hadn’t covered half the ground that Fitz would have liked. The cold and damp December weather made Fitz shiver. She paused to fasten the top button on Yvette’s coat. For the next hour or so, as they trudged along the road, their speed slowed as Yvette grew more and more tired.
‘We’ll find somewhere to settle down for the night,’ promised Fitz, aware that if she wore Yvette out too much today, the child mightn’t be able to make the final leg tomorrow. It was vital they made the rendezvous.
It took another twenty minutes or so of walking before Fitz spotted somewhere. A solitary barn was standing in the corner of the field and beyond that was woodland. Tucked away from sight of the road, it was a perfect place to stop.
Despite the remoteness, Fitz needed to make sure the barn was empty.
‘Right, what we’re going to do,’ she said to Yvette. ‘We’re going to head over to the woods and watch the barn for a while. I want to make sure no one comes out or goes in.’
They waited among the trees out of sight until it was dusk. Fitz watched the barn and the track leading up to it for several hours until she was satisfied it was safe and there was no sign of the farmer who owned it. She didn’t want to have to persuade him to allow them to sleep the night there. With the promise of extra food or a special concession from the Germans, turning in a fellow countryman was a tempting offer for anyone. Fitz had heard stories of the French turning against each other, not so much out of disloyalty but out of the need to survive.
Not for the first time, she wondered where her boundary was. If she was ever put to the test, at what point would she give in? What prize would be worth betrayal? So far, she hadn’t come up with a definitive answer and she had no desire to test her limit, if she could help it.
Once dusk had truly fallen and evening arrived, Fitz, Yvette, and Scout crept out of the woods and into the barn. There was an old tractor parked inside, which didn’t look like it had been used recently. The mud on the wheels was dry and cobwebs hung across the steering wheel like Christmas decorations. Several hessian sacks were piled on the seat of the farm machinery and might be useful to keep them warm in the night.
Bales of hay were stacked at the rear of the barn. Fitz ignored the fact that the place was probably a hotbed of mice and rats, and having Scout with them, might deter the furry creatures from venturing too close while they slept. It was a shame she couldn’t light a fire, but the straw and sacks would help keep them warm.
It wasn’t long before Fitz had made them both a nest of hay to snuggle into with the sacking over their legs and bodies as blankets.
‘There, I know it’s not exactly a hotel, but it will do for the night,’ said Fitz, pleased when Yvette snuggled into her and closed her eyes. She fell instantly into a deep sleep.
The temperature had dropped notably and Fitz was glad for the sacks, even though bits of straw poked through from underneath them. Yvette moved in her sleep, seeking a more comfortable position and Fitz put her arm around the child, so Yvette’s head rested against her.
She wondered what Michael would say if he saw her now. He’d probably think it was jolly good fun sleeping in a barn. She smiled fondly as she thought of him and imagined him tucked up in bed listening out for any passing planes overhead.
A sudden feeling of loneliness washed over her, taking Fitz by surprise. She wasn’t the homesick type but right then she felt vulnerable and responsible both at the same time.
If Fitz could have one wish right there and then, it would be to be back at Badcombe House where it was safe, familiar and warm. Funny how she thought the house was cold in the winter, at least she had the luxury of a hot water bottle. Here in the barn, it was just hers and Yvette’s body heat to stave off the cold. What Fitz would do now for a warm bed, cotton sheets and a couple of logs burning in the fireplace. She closed her eyes imagining the mug of hot cocoa her mother would have made her and allowed her to have in her room. Her mother would have wrapped a hand-knitted shawl around Fitz’s shoulders and sat on the edge of the bed to read a story.
Fitz didn’t always permit herself to visit such memories, as they were sometimes too painful, but tonight they brought her comfort and she prayed that she would one day be fortunate enough to see Badcombe House again, to see Michael and her father. She even found herself thinking of Camilla. Gosh, she really must be missing home.
Fitz allowed herself to relax enough to fall asleep, too. She hadn’t realised quite how tired she was.
She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep but at some point in the night, when it was dark and cold, she was woken by the sound of Yvette crying. Not big heaving sobs but gentle, pitiful murmurs and sniffles.
‘It’s all right,’ soothed Fitz. ‘Don’t cry now, sweetie.’ She held the child a little tighter.
‘ Je veux Maman ,’ came Yvette’s muffled voice.
Fitz’s eyes snapped open. Yvette had actually spoken of her own accord. That was something of a breakthrough.
‘I know you want your mother,’ replied Fitz softly. ‘I wish I could find her for you.’
‘She was at home,’ said Yvette. ‘Where is she now? Why hasn’t she come for me? Are we going back for her? She’ll be worried about me. Does she know I’m with you?’
It was as if Yvette had been storing these worries up and the dam of silence, holding them back, had broken. The questions came pouring out. Where did Fitz even begin answering them? She didn’t want to lie but at the same time, the truth was so brutal.
‘I don’t know where your mummy is,’ she said eventually. ‘But when we go back to Saint Pierre, I’m going to look for her.’
‘I’m frightened,’ said Yvette. ‘I want my mummy.’
‘Don’t be scared.’ Fitz dropped a kiss onto the child’s head. ‘You’ve been so brave and so clever. Not only did you trick the German, but you were so clever in hiding from them in your garden.’
‘I was told to hide there,’ said Yvette.
‘By your mother?’ asked Fitz. Now that Yvette was finally talking, there was no stopping her. Fitz didn’t want to dissuade her, even though they could both do with getting some sleep.
‘No. By the man,’ replied Yvette.
‘What man was that?’ Fitz’s eyes grew heavy and she could feel her mind beginning to wander into that half dreamlike state just before falling asleep.
‘He flew aeroplanes.’
Fitz sat bolt upright now. ‘He was a pilot?’
Yvette looked a little alarmed and Fitz forced herself to relax again. ‘Did he say what his name was?’
Yvette shook her head. ‘His leg was bleeding.’
‘But he could walk?’
‘A bit.’
‘What was he wearing?’
Yvette shrugged. ‘Brown coat with fur here.’ She pointed to the collar of her coat.
She was describing what sounded like a flight jacket. Something that was standard issue for RAF pilots. ‘What was he doing at your house?’
‘ Maman was cleaning his leg,’ said Yvette. ‘She put a bandage on it and then some other men came.’
‘They came in the house?’
‘ Oui . They spoke to the man.’ Yvette looked down at her hands and fiddled with the frayed edge of the sack.
Fitz could see the memory was upsetting Yvette, but she needed to know what happened next. ‘Were they friends of the man?’
‘ Oui . But then …’
Fitz swept a stray strand of hair from the child’s face. ‘Then what?’ she asked quietly.
‘Everyone was running around, saying they needed to hide. The men left. Maman looked very scared.’ Yvette sniffed and wiped her nose. ‘She kissed me and told me to go with the man.’
‘With the bad leg?’
‘ Oui . She said to hide in the well and wait for her. The man took me and said wait there, sweetheart and then he went.’ Yvette paused to take a breath, before speaking again. Her voice was full of anguish, confusion and fear as her words tumbled out, one after the other. ‘ Maman said she’d come back for me, but she didn’t.’ Big blobs of tears ran down Yvette’s face. ‘I want Maman .’
Fitz held the little girl tightly, not knowing what to say or how to comfort her. She thought of all the things adults had said to her when her own mother had died. Promises that everything would be all right. That her mother loved her and was up in heaven looking down on her. Even at that young age, Fitz knew they were just words, what she now knew to be platitudes the grown-ups said to try to make her feel better. How they ever thought she’d be reassured, she didn’t know. She’d never believed them about heaven, but she also knew it made the grown-ups feel better if she played along with it. Fitz didn’t want to make impossible promises and say silly things to Yvette, so she said nothing and did what she had herself found most comforting – to be held and to feel cared for. To feel someone loved her after her mother had died.
It was some time before Yvette’s sobbing faded and her breathing became steady and deep as sleep took her, Fitz hoped, to a restful place where she’d dream of happier places and times.
Meanwhile, what Yvette had told her about a man helping her hide in the well had been plaguing Fitz ever since and it was only now that she could fully consider it.
Her heart was jumpy simply at the thought that the pilot could have been Sam. Was that too fanciful? Was it purely wishful thinking?
His plane had come down in the area, she knew that much from Bob. If it was Sam, then who were the other men? They were trying to help him; they must be resistance members. Could that mean Sam was still alive and he had been here? It was a crazy idea. What would the chances be? Slim but not zero. Dare she hope that it was true or was that asking too much of the universe?
Fitz wanted to get up and walk around, as the more she entertained the idea, the more nervous energy she felt building up inside her. But her arm was well and truly wedged under Yvette and when she tried to move, Yvette stirred, whimpered and snuggled in tighter to her.
It was no good, she was going to drive herself mad thinking and rethinking whether it had been Sam who had helped Yvette earlier. If she was to stand any chance of getting some sleep, she needed to put the whole idea out of her mind.
She made a conscious effort to think of Marjorie and Elsie. They wouldn’t believe she was curled up in a barn with a little French girl and a dog, hiding from the Germans. It was so different to anything any of them had ever done. In a way Fitz found it hard to believe herself. She felt a certain detachment from the whole situation as if it wasn’t really happening to her. She didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing.
Fitz had eventually fallen into a light sleep, and it felt like only minutes had passed when she woke early the following morning, as the first rays of sun were poking their way over the hills, shining into the barn.
As she opened her eyes, she gave a yelp of surprise. Standing over her and Yvette was a man, dressed in corduroy trousers, a grubby looking once-white shirt and a jacket which had definitely seen better days.
Fitz sat upright, her eyes darting towards the doorway and then back down at Yvette. Surprisingly, Scout wasn’t making a sound.
‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ said the man.
At this point, Yvette stirred and opened her eyes. She let out a cry of alarm and huddled into Fitz.
‘We just needed somewhere to stay for the night,’ said Fitz, starting to get to her feet and pulling Yvette up with her. ‘We’re leaving now. We haven’t taken anything. I promise.’
‘Come with me,’ ordered the man.
‘Please, monsieur , we’ll leave now. Please let us go.’
‘You need something warm to eat. Come inside. My daughter will cook you some eggs.’
At the mention of eggs, Yvette tugged on Fitz’s arm. ‘Please?’ she said.
‘Bring the dog, too,’ said the farmer before turning and heading towards the doorway.
‘Please,’ said Yvette again.
Fitz was a little bewildered by the wake-up call but the thought of being able to offer Yvette some small comfort even if it was just food, was too tempting. ‘ Allez ,’ said Fitz, holding Yvette’s hand and breaking into a small run to catch up with the man who she assumed owned the barn.
‘The dog can come inside,’ said the farmer, opening the door to the farmhouse. ‘He looks like he needs feeding, too. He is yours?’
‘Not really,’ said Fitz, unsure how much to share with the man. ‘He sort of adopted us.’
Fitz heard a woman’s voice from inside the house. ‘Who are you talking to, Papa?’
‘We have some guests,’ said the man. ‘They are in need of food and a drink. Use the eggs.’ Fitz and Yvette followed the man into the house, the door opening straight into a kitchen.
Standing at the sink was a woman, probably not much older than Fitz. She didn’t look especially startled to see her guests and Fitz wondered if this was not the first time the family had extended their hospitality to strangers.
‘My name is Yves and this is my daughter, Vivienne.’ He indicated to the wooden table in the middle of the room. ‘Please, sit.’
‘ Bonjour ,’ said Vivienne.
‘ Bonjour ,’ replied Fitz. ‘ Je m’appelle ––’
She went to speak but Yves shook his head. ‘It’s best if we do not know your names.’
‘ Oui. Of course,’ said Fitz, feeling embarrassed she hadn’t thought of that herself.
Scout was still hovering in the doorway and Yves took a bag from under the sink. He scooped a handful of dog biscuits and dropped them into a metal bowl. ‘We used to have a dog,’ he explained. ‘He died a few months ago.’
‘A dog,’ said Vivienne, her eyes lighting up as she noticed the animal for the first time. ‘Oh, he is beautiful. What is his name?’
‘I don’t know his name, but I’ve been calling him Scout,’ said Fitz.
Yves took the bowl over to the doorway and placed it on the floor. ‘What sort of name is that for a French dog?’ he said not without humour. ‘He is a very handsome dog. A little on the thin side and looks like he could do with a wash. He needs a more suitable name.’
‘He should be called Beau,’ said Vivienne, crouching down and tapping the bowl to encourage the dog into the kitchen.
Hesitantly, the dog moved into the house and after sniffing the contents of the bowl, eagerly began eating. Vivienne stroked his head and Fitz was amazed the dog didn’t bat an eyelid.
‘Now leave the dog alone,’ said Yves. ‘We need to feed our guests. I suspect they are in a hurry to be somewhere.’
‘Of course,’ said Vivienne, getting up and busying herself at the stove.
Within a few minutes both Fitz and Yvette were tucking into fried eggs and bread. ‘Thank you so much,’ said Fitz when they had finished. ‘You have been very kind.’ She looked at Yvette who was mopping up her egg yolk with the bread. If Fitz was going to leave Yvette with anyone, Yves and his daughter might be the best option. Who knew if she would get another chance? ‘Monsieur,’ she began. ‘I was wondering if it would be possible for the child to stay with you?’
Yves frowned and exchanged a look with his daughter. ‘Why do you want to do that?’
Before Fitz could answer, Yvette jumped in. ‘I don’t want to stay here. I want to stay with you.’ She grabbed Fitz’s forearm with both her hands. ‘Don’t leave me here.’
Fitz looked at Yves and Vivienne. If she thought she was going to get some back-up, she had sorely misjudged them. They both remained silent. Fitz tried again. ‘I have things I need to do in Josselin and it’s not the best place for a child. Please. It is not safe for me to take her.’
‘No!’ cried Yvette. ‘I’m not staying.’
‘Yvette, that’s enough,’ said Fitz, rather more sternly than she intended. She tried to extract her arm from Yvette’s grip but Yvette wasn’t letting go. ‘It’s not safe for you to come with me.’
Yves held up his hand. ‘Enough,’ he said. He looked at Fitz. ‘She doesn’t want to stay.’
‘She’s only a child and doesn’t understand,’ protested Fitz. Gosh, she couldn’t look at Yvette, it was making her feel guilty. Of course it was better if Yvette stayed here. Why didn’t anyone see that? She turned to Vivienne. ‘Would you be able to look after her?’
Vivienne’s eyes widened a fraction. ‘I’m sorry, but it would be even more dangerous for her to stay here. For her and for us.’
Yves cleared his throat. ‘We have a German officer billeted here. No, don’t be alarmed. He’s not here now. He’s away for two days but he will be back and how could we explain a child suddenly appearing?’
Fitz dropped her gaze. Yves was right, of course. There was no way she could leave Yvette here. She patted Yvette’s hand. ‘It’s all right. You’re coming with me.’
Yvette’s face lit up. ‘I am?’
‘Yes,’ said Fitz, feeling strangely relieved herself.
‘You’re not leaving me?’
‘No.’ Fitz smiled at Yvette who clung even more tightly to her.
The embrace was so full of emotion, Fitz could feel the relief sparking out from Yvette like an electrical charge, zapping her right in the heart. Yvette sat up, unhooking her arms from around Fitz, but refusing to let go of her hand. Fitz gave her hand a little squeeze. ‘We should really leave now.’ She was conscious that they had little time to make it to Josselin. Her stomach gave an anxiety-ridden roll at the prospect of missing the rendezvous.
‘Where are you going?’ asked Yves.
‘Erm, it’s probably best if I don’t say,’ said Fitz, not wishing to compromise herself.
Yves nodded his understanding. ‘If I was to tell you I was going to a village near Josselin this morning with my horse and cart, would that be of help to you?’
Fitz glanced at Vivienne, who nodded encouragingly. She looked back at Yves. ‘That would be very helpful, indeed.’
‘ Alors . We will leave shortly.’ He looked down at the dog who was now settled at his feet. ‘It may be difficult for you to take the dog with you to Josselin. Would you like to leave him with us? That I can explain far more easily to the German officer.’
Fitz hesitated before she replied. ‘I might not be able to come back for him,’ she said carefully.
‘He can stay with us for as long as is necessary,’ replied Yves.
‘Thank you,’ said Fitz. Although she knew this was the right thing to do, she couldn’t help feeling a little sad that they would be continuing without Scout – or Beau, as she suspected he was going to be known from now on. ‘That is very kind of you.’
‘It will be good to have a dog around again,’ said Yves, reaching down and ruffling the dog’s ear. ‘Do you think that is good, Beau?’