Chapter 18
Chapter 18
Fitz was sorry to leave Scout behind, but she was also relieved. It would be better for her and Yvette and so much better for the dog. Yves and Vivienne seemed like genuine people who would take good care of him. She couldn’t imagine he would be tied up to a shed and neglected. It reminded her that there were good people about and although only a small act of kindness, it felt like something much bigger, and it warmed her heart.
The journey into Josselin went without any hitches. Sitting on the back of the hay cart with Yvette alongside her was a blessing for their legs, especially Yvette’s. The cart lolloped and bumped its way down the uneven track but the going was much smoother once they were on the main road.
Fitz had already agreed a cover story with Yves should they get stopped. He was going to a village near to Josselin to see his brother with some provisions and had spotted Fitz and Yvette on the road and given them a ride. A very normal thing to do, which shouldn’t arouse any suspicions.
Fitz allowed herself to relax for a while and as she took deep breaths of clean Breton air, her mind drifted to thoughts of Sam. She had asked Yves if he knew of any Allied pilots who had been downed in the area, but he had shaken his head and moved the conversation on. She wasn’t sure if he knew more than he was prepared to tell her or simply didn’t know.
The cart came to a halt at a crossroads. Yves turned around to speak to Fitz. ‘I have to go this way now,’ he said, indicating to his left. ‘You need to go straight on. Josselin is just down around the corner and down the hill.’
Fitz hopped off the back of the cart and helped Yvette down. ‘Thank you so much for your kindness,’ she said, shaking his hand. ‘Take care.’
‘Good luck,’ said Yves. And then to Yvette. ‘Don’t worry about the dog. He will be happy with us.’ He gave Fitz one last look before flicking the reins and, making a clicking noise, he drove the horse on.
Josselin really was just around the corner. Fitz could see the canal below and the huge castle walls running alongside the water. She knew from studying the map that the canal ran from Brest to Nantes. In any other circumstances, it would have been wonderful to walk alongside the canal or even take a boat, but with giant red Nazi flags draped from the windows of the chateau, the fairy-tale image was downgraded to one of a horror story. Even the bridge crossing the canal and leading into the town had been adorned with a Nazi flag.
From her vantage point at the top of the winding hill, Fitz could see a checkpoint on her side of the bridge. There was no other way across the canal to the town – she would simply have to run the gauntlet again.
Luck was on her side as the guards appeared to have little interest in her or Yvette, due to a woman at the checkpoint who was giggling and openly flirting with them. The soldier merely gave Fitz’s papers a cursory glance before waving her through.
She and Yvette walked along the canal path. The chateau was even more impressive close up. It must be at least one hundred feet from the ground to the top of the tower. The town itself was built on the hillside, and from what Fitz had been told and the maps she had studied before leaving England, the entrance to the chateau was on the other side at street level.
Around the side of the chateau, halfway up the hill that led to the centre of the town, Fitz spotted the well – the rendezvous point. They were early and she didn’t want to hang around too much in case they aroused suspicion.
‘Let’s see if we can get something to eat,’ she said to Yvette.
A few minutes later they were in the centre of the town where Fitz suspected, prior to the invasion and occupation, this had once been a bustling market. Today, however, it was empty. She spotted a boulangerie where there was a short queue from the doorway. Food was rationed here in France just as it was in Britain and during her SOE training Fitz had been advised that the black market was very much alive and thriving.
They tagged onto the back of the queue. Fitz didn’t mind that it moved slowly, it was a good way to kill time and to blend in with the locals. It also gave her the opportunity to scope out as much of the town as she could see. What she could learn now, might just save her life in an emergency.
She hoped she wouldn’t need a back-up plan, though. All she wanted was the kidnap plot to go ahead without any hitches. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to do with Yvette yet, but hoped one of her contacts at the chateau would be able to help.
Eventually they reached the head of the queue and were able to obtain a small block of cheese and two slices of ham. Fitz had found a quiet spot at the top of the street, where they could eat their food away from any spying eyes before they made their way back to the rendezvous point.
They were there a few minutes early. Fitz rested her bag on the wall of the well and pretended to rummage inside it for something. She had a hanky in her hand, ready to produce should any Germans ask her what she was doing. It was exhausting having to think about every action and ensure she had a valid reason, one that wouldn’t get her into trouble and would be accepted. She had been trained for all this but putting it into practice when the danger was very real was so much different to exercises and hypothetical scenarios back in England. No matter how hard SOE training tried, they couldn’t prepare someone fully for the real thing.
The December sky looked dark and ominously cloudy. Fitz hoped it wouldn’t rain before they met their contact, as they would look very suspicious standing in the street getting soaking wet. Fortunately, they had only been waiting a few minutes when Fitz noticed the woman from the checkpoint approaching. She smiled at Fitz and waved.
‘Oh, Claudine, there you are!’ She kissed Fitz on each side of her face and then enveloped her in a hug. ‘A Christmas feast awaits you at the chateau.’
It was the coded message Fitz had been told to expect. She answered with the prearranged response. ‘As long as there are chestnuts roasting and mulled wine warming, Margot.’
‘Of course, plenty for you to take home with you.’
Margot looked down at Yvette. ‘How lovely to see you, too,’ she said, before giving Fitz a quizzical look.
‘My niece,’ said Fitz.
‘You are alone? Where is André?’ asked Margot looking around.
‘He was captured by the Germans,’ replied Fitz, keeping her voice low so as not to be overheard. ‘We were ambushed at the farm. Someone ratted on us.’
The woman’s eyes widened. ‘Well, it will be someone from your side. No one from the resistance would do such a thing.’
Fitz gave her a challenging look. ‘You sound very sure. On “my side”, as you put it, only four people knew about the arrangements. The mole has to be here in France.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Well, let’s see what Philippe says,’ replied Fitz.
Margot made a scoffing noise. ‘First the child and now an ambush. It is strange how you managed to escape.’
Fitz had no mind to argue with the woman any further. ‘This needs to be discussed somewhere safe,’ she said. ‘Are you going to take me to the chateau or do I have to go there myself?’
Margot pushed herself away from the wall. ‘Follow me.’ And then pasting on a smile for anyone watching, she slipped her hand through Fitz’s arm. ‘The child was not in the plan,’ she said quietly.
‘I had no choice,’ replied Fitz.
This earned her a reproachful look from her contact, but she didn’t care.
They walked through the cobbled streets and around to the entrance of the chateau, passing through the red wooden gates where two German soldiers stood on guard.
‘Philippe’s cousin,’ said Margot nonchalantly, not breaking stride. Fitz kept up with her and was surprised when again they weren’t asked for their papers.
‘My cousin must be very influential,’ commented Fitz once she was certain they were out of earshot.
‘Oh, he is,’ replied Margot. ‘He has friends in high places. Now, there are several German officers residing, at your cousin’s invitation, in the chateau. Please remember that at all times. There are also three officers here as guests for the party tomorrow night.’
It all seemed so bizarre, talking about guests and a party as if the country wasn’t under occupation. Fitz couldn’t imagine how some people were seemingly going about their daily lives, almost welcoming the Germans. But then, she guessed, some were playing a very dangerous game – like the man who was pretending to be her cousin.
‘We are in the west wing of the building and the Germans are all in the east wing,’ said Margot, as they ascended the sweeping stone staircase to the first floor.
A German officer passed them, trotting down the steps, he slowed to bid them both good afternoon before continuing on his way.
Another surreal encounter. Fitz would have to get used to this for the next thirty-six hours. She followed Margot down the hallway, where she knocked on the door of one of the rooms, before entering.
‘Ah, my dear cousin, Claudine,’ said a man, getting to his feet and walking over to Fitz. He greeted her with kisses and Margot closed the doors behind her.
‘We have an extra guest,’ she said, gesturing to Yvette. ‘And we have another absent.’
Philippe frowned. ‘A child?’ he whispered. ‘No one told me about this.’
Fitz reined in a sigh. Patiently she explained how she’d found Yvette and how she couldn’t possibly leave her.
‘And her mother?’ asked Philippe.
‘I haven’t been able to find her yet,’ replied Fitz, raising her eyebrows at the Frenchman, hoping he’d understand what she wasn’t saying. She was very conscious that Yvette still didn’t know the true fate of her mother.
Philippe made a huffing noise. ‘Very well. I’m not happy, but she’s here now.’
‘Exactly,’ said Fitz. ‘And she is my charge. I don’t expect anyone to have to look after her.’ The words came out before Fitz realised what she was saying. She had just taken on sole responsibility for Yvette.
‘I’ll hold you to that.’ Philippe returned to the desk he had been sitting at. ‘I take it you know what the plans are for the party tomorrow?’
‘Yes,’ replied Fitz. ‘We don’t have André with us. We were ambushed.’
Fitz relayed the events at the farmhouse to Philippe. She was aware of Margot making tusking noises and sighing in exasperation as she listened, but Fitz ignored her.
‘She was the only one to escape,’ said Margot, in a way that left Fitz in no doubt, the Frenchwoman did not believe her story.
‘André was alive when he was taken?’ asked Philippe.
‘Yes. Both he and the resistance member who was in charge.’
‘Bernard,’ said Margot to Philippe, who nodded.
He rubbed his chin with his fingertips as he considered the information. ‘Hmm. They need to hold out another day or so.’
‘Let’s hope they can do that,’ said Margot.
‘They know the details. I am certain they won’t give us up,’ said Philippe. ‘Not Bernard, anyway. He won’t say a word. I guarantee that.’
‘Then let’s also hope the rat isn’t André,’ said Margot.
‘Enough talk of that now,’ instructed Philippe.
‘We should call the plan off,’ said Margot, leaning against the fireplace as she lit a cigarette. ‘We’ve been compromised.’
Philippe frowned and silence filled the room as he contemplated the scenario. ‘No,’ he said finally. ‘The plan will go ahead. The people of the area need to know that we are fighting for them. That we won’t allow Hoffmann to continue with his barbaric punishments. The community needs a morale boost otherwise we will lose support. Things are not going to get better for a long time and we need these people behind us from the start. Otherwise we have no hope of defeating the Nazis.’
‘But it is just one act. We can do it another time,’ argued Margot.
Philippe shook his head. ‘We don’t know when we will get another chance like this. We are being handed the general on a plate.’
Margot pushed herself away from the fireplace. ‘Are you doing this for the good of the country or for your ego?’
Fitz watched the exchange between the two resistance members. She saw the rage sweep over Philippe’s face but his response was controlled. ‘Never question my integrity again,’ he said, his voice cold and hard. ‘Everything I do is for France. I have already lost so much. This is not about me; this is about freedom and equality.’
There was a pause before Margot spoke. ‘Very well. You are in charge,’ she said, clearly not happy about the decision.
Philippe turned back to Fitz. ‘You should get some rest now.’
‘I’ll show you to your room,’ said Margot. ‘I can make a spare bed up on the sofa in your room for the child.’
‘Oh, there is one thing,’ said Fitz. She moved closer to the desk so she could speak quietly. ‘Have either of you heard about an American pilot, flying for the RAF, being shot down? He might be injured or working with the resistance. Or he might be in a safe house.’
Philippe gave Fitz a long hard stare before replying. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ he hissed. ‘And you will do well to remember not to ask such questions. You will put yourself and others in danger. Do you understand?’
Fitz looked down at her feet. She could feel a flush of embarrassment hit her cheeks. She shouldn’t have asked. How stupid of her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think.’
‘Clearly,’ snapped Philippe. ‘You need to make sure you do start thinking. We can’t afford any mistakes.’
‘Yes, of course. It won’t happen again. My apologies.’
As Fitz followed Margot out of the room and up to the next floor where her room was waiting for her, she felt suitably humiliated. She knew she shouldn’t have asked but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. The idea that Sam might be out here, helping the resistance just wouldn’t leave her. She wasn’t given to such fanciful ideas normally. What on earth was wrong with her?
‘You will be expected to join Philippe for dinner this evening,’ said Margot. ‘Colonel Rolf Hoffmann will be there, and you will be seated next to him.’ She glanced at Yvette, before addressing Fitz again. ‘All you have to do this evening, is make him like you. Don’t be too keen, though. You need to leave him wanting. Understand?’
‘Yes,’ said Fitz. She couldn’t deny the churning of her stomach at the thought of flirting with a German officer, but it had to be done. She’d already had this conversation with herself about how far she was prepared to go and each time had come to the same conclusion. As far as it was necessary. This mission wasn’t about her. What she had to do was a small sacrifice compared to what others had already lost. ‘I understand perfectly.’
‘Good. The child will need to stay up here in the room out of sight,’ said Margot. ‘I will make sure someone brings her something to eat.’
‘That’s fine,’ said Fitz. ‘Yvette will be very good. I promise you.’ It irritated Fitz that Margot was even suggesting Yvette would be anything other than well behaved.
‘There are clothes in the wardrobe that will be suitable,’ continued Margot, crossing the room to the large mahogany armoire. She opened the doors theatrically and pulled at the one of the garments. It was a black evening dress. ‘Wear this tonight.’ She eyed Fitz up and down. ‘It should fit you. At least you have a nice full bust – Hoffmann has a penchant for large breasts.’
Fitz shrugged. ‘Good. Then that will make my job a little easier.’ She got the impression Margot was testing her in some way. If she thought Fitz was worried about showing a little more cleavage than was perhaps necessary, she could think again. ‘Make-up. Is there make-up here?’
Margot pointed towards the dressing table. ‘As requested. Think yourself lucky, we don’t usually pull the stops out for things like make-up. Especially the very specific request of bright red lipstick.’
Fitz smiled and went over to the dressing table, opening the drawer where all the make-up was neatly laid out. She ran her fingers across the cosmetics, resting on the lipstick and picking it up. If nothing else, she was looking forward to applying the lipstick. Without it she felt naked. Wearing it made her feel alive. And she would need all the help she could get tonight and tomorrow to succeed with the plan. ‘It’s a good day for red lipstick,’ she declared.