Chapter 20
Chapter 20
‘Where exactly are we going?’ asked Fitz as she followed Margot out of the chateau and through the town.
After breakfast in her room with Yvette, and then leaving her with the cook, Fitz had met with Margot. The latter still hadn’t shed any light on what they were doing that morning.
‘Stop asking questions,’ said Margot. ‘You just need to follow me, that’s all.’
They walked down the hill back towards the well. At first Fitz thought they might be meeting some more resistance members, but Margot carried on, turning left before she reached the canal.
A few minutes later, it became apparent as Margot pushed open the gate to the cemetery. Silently, Fitz followed on until they reached the back of the grounds. There were two fresh graves, marked by newly dug soil formed in mounds. Two wooden crosses marked their spot and each cross was engraved with a number.
Fitz looked up at Margot with a questioning look.
‘You asked about a RAF pilot,’ said Margot, her voice unusually soft. ‘Four nights ago, a plane came down just outside the town. The locals tried to help but it was too late. One of them survived, but only for a short while.’
Fitz took a moment to comprehend what Margot was implying. She looked back at the graves. Her mind racing as she tried to make sense of the barrage of thoughts. ‘Two graves,’ she said, remembering Bob had told her Sam was flying out a VIP.
Margot took out a packet of Gitanes cigarettes and offered one to Fitz.
Fitz’s hand shook a little as she accepted the offer. She used her own lighter and drew on the cigarette. The French black tobacco was stronger than she was used to, but she needed it today. ‘Do you know their names?’ she asked after a moment. ‘They would have been wearing identity tags.’
‘I don’t. The tags would have been taken by the resistance. They will find their way back to England.’
‘You said one was still alive,’ said Fitz. ‘Did he speak at all? The man I’m looking for was American.’
‘Apparently all he said was thank you, Ma’am . Isn’t that what Americans say?’
Fitz wasn’t ready to believe this was Sam. No, she needed more proof than that. ‘He could have been trying to say Madame,’ said Fitz, resolutely. ‘Maybe the person who found him, didn’t hear right.’
Margot gave a small shrug. ‘It is possible but we were only expecting one aircraft that night. If it is the same night as your pilot, then it makes sense.’
Fitz shook her head. ‘No, that can’t be right. There was a pilot who hid Yvette. He called her sweetheart. That’s what Sam would say.’
‘The child might easily be mistaken,’ said Margot. ‘Besides, if she is right, who is to say he wasn’t downed another night?’
‘What type of aircraft was it?’ asked Fitz.
Margot made a dismissive sound. ‘Pfff. How would I know? I am not an expert in aviation.’ She threw down her cigarette and ground it out under her foot. ‘I just thought you should know. Or at least prepare yourself for when you get official confirmation. We need to get back. I’ll wait over there for you.’
Fitz looked down at the grave. Was it possible it was Sam? No. It couldn’t be. She’d know if it was. Somewhere deep in her heart, she’d know if Sam was buried there. He was still alive, she just knew it.
‘Rest in peace,’ she said as she touched the top of each cross.
Fitz wasn’t sure why Margot had chosen that morning to show her the graves. Was it because she knew Fitz would be leaving tonight? Or was she testing her resolve for some reason? Was she trying to break Fitz to prove to Philippe that she wasn’t up to the job? Why would she want to sabotage the kidnap plot?
As they walked back to the chateau, Fitz became more and more aware of her strange, unsettling feeling about Margot.
‘When you go tonight,’ said Margot as they walked up the gravel path to the main entrance. ‘You will leave the child with us.’
Fitz’s stomach churned over at this news. ‘Leave her with you. I … I don’t know. I mean, what will happen to her?’
‘There is a family Philippe knows. They will take her in,’ explained Margot.
‘What about Yvette’s family?’
‘What about them? She has none. Look, you have no idea how hard it is here now. No doubt, you have some romantic idea about finding the girl’s mother. Well, listen to me. It is not possible. We have better things to worry about. The child will go to the Martin family.’
‘Do the Martin family have children?’ asked Fitz. Somehow it mattered very much to her who she was leaving Yvette with.
‘No. But they will look after her. She will help around the house, and she will have a bed to sleep in and food on the table.’ Margot eyed Fitz. ‘That is more than some children have.’
They had reached the entrance to the chateau now and Fitz knew they couldn’t talk about it anymore.
Fitz spent the rest of the day with Yvette. It was unlike any Christmas Eve she had ever experienced. She wished she could do something to make it special for Yvette, but it seemed frivolous given the circumstances. She decided the best she could do was to sneak some cake back for the little girl. She couldn’t stop thinking about the fate that lay ahead for Yvette, and how treacherous she herself felt about leaving her, even though it was the right thing to do. Yvette was French. She needed to stay in France. What was Fitz supposed to do? Whisk her off to England in the plane that night? It was a ludicrous idea.
Ludicrous, yes. But not impossible. No. Fitz dismissed the notion. She would not entertain it for another second. Yvette belonged in France.
Fitz thought of Yvette’s mother. What would she be thinking of Fitz if she knew what she was about to do? Yvette’s mother hadn’t chosen to leave her child. Fitz imagined the woman’s last thought would have been about her daughter and whether she was safe.
Had her own mother had such thoughts and feelings right before she died? Had her last thought been of her daughter?
They stayed in the bedroom, out of the way, playing cards and drawing pictures. Fitz had always been fond of sketching and was soon filling the pages with requests from the little girl. Dogs and cats featured heavily. Fitz noticed Yvette didn’t ask her to draw any houses or families, something she was sure little girls liked. They moved on to flowers and trees, then bigger, more exotic animals. Cars and buses came next. Once they had amassed a wide selection of pictures, Yvette set about colouring them in. Fitz carried on doodling on the paper and was surprised at the feeling of contentment she was getting from simply watching Yvette enjoy herself.
‘What are you drawing now?’ asked Yvette.
Fitz turned the paper around for her to see. ‘An aeroplane.’
‘I’ve never been in an aeroplane,’ said Yvette. ‘Have you?’
‘Yes, I have. In fact I can actually …’ Fitz managed to stop herself from blurting out that she could fly one.
‘Can what?’ asked Yvette.
‘I can remember seeing my friend fly his plane,’ said Fitz quickly. ‘Oh, have you seen the time?’ she said looking at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘I need to start getting ready.’ She shuffled the papers together in a pile and placed them on the dressing table. ‘Do you want to help me fix my hair?’
‘Yes please,’ said Yvette, dropping the coloured crayon back into the pot.
‘We can do yours too,’ said Fitz, glad the child was easily distracted. She silently scolded herself for nearly spilling the beans about being able to fly.
Once Fitz was ready, she settled Yvette in the room. ‘Someone will be back later to make sure you’re all right,’ she said. ‘Now be very good and quiet and stay in the room. The guests will be arriving soon.’
‘Will you be gone all night?’ asked Yvette. There was that glimmer of anxiety in Yvette’s eyes. How could Fitz possibly leave her? Even though there was the promise of a French couple to look after the girl, would they be kind to her? Would they love her? Fitz wasn’t sure.
Fitz put her hand on Yvette’s cheek. ‘Not all night. I’ll be back.’ She stopped short of saying she promised. If something went wrong and she was caught, she didn’t want to have Yvette’s last thought that Fitz had broken her promise. Fitz picked up the teddy bear and tucked it under the covers alongside Yvette. ‘I’ll be back for both of you.’ She kissed Yvette on the forehead. ‘Always know that you are loved,’ she whispered.
She left the room before she choked up with tears. How on earth had she become so attached to the little human in her bed? The weight of responsibility was still there but it had been replaced by desire rather than duty. And was Fitz really going to do what she thought she was? The little idea she had tried all evening to ignore? Damn it. Apparently so.
She straightened herself when she saw Margot waiting for her at the top of the stairs.
‘Everything all right?’ asked the Frenchwoman. ‘Have you told the child about the Martins?’
Fitz shook her head. ‘No. There’s no need to upset her now. We don’t want any distractions for this evening.’
‘Good. That is wise.’
This time Fitz didn’t feel any joy or sense of pride from receiving Margot’s praise.
Philippe came up the stairs. ‘Everything is in place,’ he said. ‘At eleven-thirty, the waiters will bring around a glass of champagne for everyone so I can propose a toast. You are to take the glass on the left-hand side – your left – and ensure Hoffmann drinks it.’
‘The one on the left,’ repeated Fitz.
‘Yes, it will be laced with something to help Hoffmann relax,’ said Philippe.
‘Don’t get muddled up and drink it yourself, will you,’ said Margot.
An unnecessary comment which Fitz decided didn’t even merit a reply. She ignored Margot and addressed Philippe.
‘And a car will be waiting outside soon after that?’
‘Tell Hoffmann you are going to take him to Madame Mimi’s,’ said Margot. ‘I’m sure you can use your imagination about what happens at her house. Men are all the same. Governed by what’s between their legs, rather than the brains between their ears.’ She glanced at Philippe. ‘It’s true.’
It was Philippe’s turn to ignore Margot now. ‘Be outside at quarter to twelve. The car will be there.’
Margot spoke again. ‘And then once in the car, you will have to keep him occupied. Make sure he doesn’t look out of the window. I’m sure you can think of a way to do that.’
‘Of course I can,’ replied Fitz. ‘What about the checkpoint on the bridge?’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Margot. ‘There will be distractions for the guards. Some very pretty ones.’
‘Are you sure that will work?’ Fitz wasn’t convinced that the lure of a female was enough to take a guard away from his post.
Margot made a huffing noise. She looked incredulously at Philippe. ‘Did you hear that? She is questioning me?’ Philippe gave a philosophical shrug as Margot turned back to Fitz. ‘Not that I need to explain to you, but I will, purely to stop you asking any more stupid questions.’ She paused and when Fitz didn’t reply, she continued. ‘Two female agents have been working towards this point for the past ten days. Very soon they will arrive at the bridge with alcohol and promises. They are not just flirting like you. They are actually prepared do everything necessary to make this plan work. Am I making myself clear?’
‘Margot, please,’ said Philippe. He made a shushing noise.
‘I will not be quiet. She needs to know she is not the brave one. My girls are.’
Fitz felt suitably admonished. She didn’t want to argue with the woman. ‘They have my utmost respect for what they are doing,’ she said. ‘But please be assured, I too am willing to give everything I need to, in order for this mission to succeed.’
‘Let’s hope you mean that,’ said Margot.
‘There is one thing you must do for me, though,’ said Fitz.
Philippe frowned. ‘What?’
‘You must ensure Yvette is waiting on the other side of the bridge.’
‘What are you talking about?’ said Philippe.
‘It’s impossible,’ said Margot.
‘I am not leaving without Yvette,’ insisted Fitz. ‘She comes with me. That’s the deal.’
‘This was not part of the plan,’ hissed Philippe.
‘Make it part of the plan,’ said Fitz. There was no way on earth she was leaving Yvette here to be dumped on a couple who didn’t even have any children. How would they look after her when all they wanted was an extra pair of hands to help around the house? No. She wasn’t leaving Yvette to that fate.
‘And if we don’t?’ asked Philippe.
‘Then I am not going anywhere, either.’
‘But you will be arrested and interrogated,’ said Philippe.
‘And then she will talk,’ said Margot. She glared at Fitz. ‘Maybe we should leave you to Engel. I am sure he will be happy to question you. Then what will happen to Yvette?’
‘I would have thought your main concern should be what will happen to the network?’ said Fitz, standing her ground.
Philippe held up his hand to silence the women. ‘The child will be there but after that she is your responsibility. If this goes wrong and something happens to her, then it will be down to you.’
Fitz nodded. ‘Thank you.’
As they went into the reception room, Fitz was well aware of the responsibility she had just committed herself to.