Chapter 31 Cassie
Cassie
Lisbon
One week later
‘You are lovesick,’ said Lara. ‘It’s exactly the same as I felt when Otto first went away. Look, you’re all pale and wan. You’re like Elizabeth Bennet.’
‘Who’s Elizabeth Bennet?’ I said, staring miserably into my cup of tea. ‘Is she one of your theatre friends?’
Lara snorted. ‘No,’ she said.
I looked at her, not caring. ‘I’m just so worried about everything,’ I said. ‘About Archie and about Frances Reed, and about the escape lines … All of it.’
‘I know,’ said Lara. She reached out and took my hand. ‘It’s awful. And this waiting is torturous.’
We were in the bookshop, which usually calmed me, but today the magic wasn’t working.
‘I should probably go back to the embassy,’ I said. ‘Henry’s all on his own.’
‘Has Archie been in touch?’ Lara asked.
I nodded. ‘He’s got word to Digby to confirm the escape lines are holding firm.’
‘That’s good news,’ Lara said.
‘It is.’ I slumped over the counter where we were sitting and sighed. ‘It is good news.’
‘So is he on his way back to Lisbon?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘He thinks the world of you, Cass,’ Lara said. She sounded quite fierce. ‘And perhaps this isn’t the right time for you to be together, but it will happen.’
‘We’ll see,’ I said.
I got up slowly. I felt like I’d aged twenty years since I met Parrish. Everything was so much effort.
‘I’ll catch up with you later,’ I said.
Lara put her hands on my shoulders and stared at me intently. ‘I’m here if you need me,’ she said. ‘Don’t forget that.’
I nodded, and then I trudged back to the embassy.
As I pushed open the office door, Henry sprang to his feet.
‘Where have you been?’ he said.
‘Out.’ I dropped my bag on the floor beside my desk.
‘Digby wants to see us. I think there’s news.’
I froze. ‘Good news? Or bad news?’
‘I don’t know,’ Henry said. ‘Let’s go.’
Together we hurried down the corridor in silence.
Digby was at his desk and he looked sombre as we entered.
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Take a seat.’
‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘What’s happened. Is it Archie? Valentine? Is he safe? What’s going on?’
Digby looked taken aback by the verbal onslaught. He held his hand up to me.
‘Valentine is safe,’ he said. I let out a breath. ‘But there is news from Paris.’
‘Go on.’
‘As you know, we got word to our agent there, and he confirmed he was going to the library to warn Frances Reed and her team.’
‘Yes,’ I said.
‘Are they safe?’ asked Henry.
‘Unfortunately, we don’t know.’ Digby closed his eyes briefly. ‘No one has been able to reach him since.’
‘Bugger,’ said Henry.
‘What does that mean?’ I asked. ‘Did the Nazis get to them? Where’s Frances Reed?’
‘I was coming to that,’ Digby said. ‘Our intelligence from Paris has told us there was a fire at the library. By all accounts it wasn’t too serious. The building is damaged but still standing.’
‘A fire?’ I shook my head, not understanding.
‘And no one has seen Miss Reed since.’
My hands were sweating and I wiped them on my skirt.
‘Well, can’t they look for her?’ said Henry. ‘Surely they know where she lives?’
‘They are looking.’ Digby’s tone was weary. ‘They have been to her home. She is not there.’
‘Could they be together?’ I suggested. ‘Frances Reed and the agent? What’s his name?’
‘Marcus,’ said Digby. ‘His name is Marcus Oxley. But he goes by Berger. His mother is German.’
‘So could they be together?’
‘It’s possible.’
I cleared my throat. ‘Or could it be that she has been captured by the Nazis? Or even …’ My voice wavered and I paused, gathering myself. ‘Or could she have been killed?’
‘It does sound like they’ve found her already,’ Henry pointed out. ‘If the library has been set alight.’
‘The fire could be unconnected,’ said Digby unconvincingly.
‘Could it?’ Henry looked straight at him.
‘Perhaps.’ Digby sighed. ‘It is possible that Reed and Oxley have been killed,’ he admitted. ‘But the good news is, we have no evidence of that. No bodies. No word from any of our chaps in Paris that it has happened. If they’d captured Oxley, they’d have crowed about it, there’s no doubt.’
I nodded quickly. ‘That’s good,’ I said. ‘Something positive.’ But I still feared the worst.
There was silence as we all sat and thought about what to do next.
‘Right,’ I said eventually, trying to sound in control, though I felt completely hopeless. ‘I think there are two things we need to do. Firstly, we need to tell Bea what’s happened. Frances is her friend and it’s only fair we tell her she is missing.’
Digby nodded. ‘I’ll send someone round to the bookshop to speak to her,’ he said.
‘Someone nice,’ I warned.
He nodded again.
‘And the second thing we need to do …’ I began. I swallowed. ‘We need to go to Paris.’
‘No.’ Digby put both hands flat on the desk. ‘Absolutely not.’
‘We need to go and find Frances and Oxley.’
‘It’s too dangerous,’ Digby said. He sounded quite cross. ‘If I send you to Paris, you could be lost too.’
‘We can’t just leave them to their fate,’ I said. ‘That’s an awful thing to do.’
‘Of course not,’ said Digby. ‘And we won’t. Trust me. We’re doing everything we can …’
But I wasn’t listening. ‘We could go,’ I said again. ‘We could use the escape routes in reverse, perhaps we could drive up through Spain – the way Archie did it – then cross the Pyrenees, up through France. We could find safe houses along the way, speak to the Resistance …’
‘Even if it was safe – which it is not – that would take days and days,’ said Digby. ‘Weeks, even.’ He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. It was disconcerting to see him so rattled. ‘It’s not an option.’
‘So it’s just more waiting?’ I said. My voice was thick with tears and I swallowed.
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘If there’s anything we can do in the meantime …’ said Henry.
‘Thank you.’ Digby nodded. He stood up. ‘I must go, I’ve got things to do elsewhere.’
‘We’ll get on then,’ I said. ‘Henry?’
‘Coming.’
We both stood up and Digby nodded goodbye.
Silently, we made our way through the embassy corridors and back to the office. Once we were inside, I shut the door and stood with my back to it.
‘We’re going to Paris.’
‘I knew you were going to say that.’ Henry sounded defeated. ‘I knew from the moment you suggested it.’
‘How can we stay here, knowing anything could have happened to poor Frances?’
‘I don’t disagree,’ said Henry. ‘But it feels like looking for a needle in a haystack. She could have left Paris altogether.’
I scratched my chin, thinking.
‘How about if we—’ A knock on the office door made me pause as Trisha, who worked on the front desk, came in.
‘Sorry to bother you,’ she said. ‘But I wasn’t sure who to speak to. He was asking for Digby, but I can’t find him.’
‘Who?’ I said. ‘Who’s asking for Digby?’
‘There’s a chap downstairs,’ she said. ‘He’s in a right state. His clothes don’t fit him right and he keeps waving a book at me. He’s in a bad way so it’s hard to make sense of what he’s saying, but he’s British.’
Henry and I looked at each other. I couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing. Was it an airman?
‘Where is he now?’ I asked.
‘I took him to the medical room,’ Trisha said.
‘We have a medical room?’ Henry raised his eyebrows.
‘Usually people use it as a place to sneak a nap when they’ve had a big night out,’ I said. I turned to Trish. ‘Is someone getting Julia?’
‘Yes, she’s with him.’
‘And Julia is?’ Henry frowned.
‘She’s the nurse, though she also works in the personnel department because there isn’t much for her to do, usually.’
‘Of course,’ said Henry. ‘That makes perfect sense.’
‘Lead the way, Trish,’ I said, even though we were already moving. Together we hurried down to the little medical room where a man was lying on the bed. Julia was sitting next to him writing something on a chart.
‘He’s not at all well, so he’ll be taken to hospital as soon as someone can pick him up,’ she said when we walked in. ‘I’ve patched him up best as I could for now, but I think he’s been shot, and the wound looks infected.’
‘Do you know his name?’ I asked. The man looked small in the bed, his face drawn and pale.
‘Marcus,’ said Julia. ‘But no surname.’
I stifled a gasp as Henry and I exchanged glances again, and I nodded.
‘Could you give us a minute?’
‘I can but it has to only be a minute,’ she said sternly. ‘He’s really not well.’
She left the room, closing the door behind her and I went to the side of the bed.
‘Marcus?’ I said softly. ‘My name’s Cassie and this is Henry. We sent the books to Paris.’
Marcus opened his eyes and looked right at me. ‘Frances,’ he said.
Henry breathed in deeply next to me. ‘Have you come all the way from Paris?’ he said. ‘How did you get here?’
‘Resistance,’ Marcus said softly.
‘Do you know if Frances is safe?’ I asked.
‘They need help,’ Marcus said. His breathing was uneven, and it was clearly hard for him to talk. I didn’t want to push him, but I needed to know more.
‘Is Frances still in Paris?’ I said. ‘Where is she?’
‘Library.’
‘She’s in the library?’ I gave Henry a puzzled glance. ‘But we thought …’
‘Is Frances hiding?’ Henry asked. ‘Where is she hiding?’
Marcus opened his mouth, but he didn’t speak. He tried to sit up and we both said ‘woah’ and settled him back down.
‘We’ll help her.’ I didn’t think about how. ‘I promise.’
Leaning back against the pillows, Marcus gave a deep sigh.
With what seemed to be enormous effort he said: ‘Frances has my books.’ He took another breath.
‘Stories from Jews in Berlin and Paris and …’ He paused for so long, I thought he had lost consciousness.
‘Belgium,’ he said eventually. ‘I need their voices to be heard.’ He reached out his hand and grasped mine in his cold fingers. ‘Find the books.’
‘We will,’ I said.
Marcus’s grip loosened and his breathing became more uneven as he fell asleep.
‘That explains why Digby couldn’t get hold of him,’ I said in a low voice. ‘But he’s left Frances behind?’
Henry nodded. ‘He sounded quite sure she was safe, though.’
‘Do you think she’s hiding in the library? Digby said they’d looked for her.’
‘I have no idea.’ Henry shrugged.
‘The ambulance is here to take him to hospital,’ said Julia, appearing in the room.
Henry and I nodded. ‘Thank you. We’ll let Digby know he’s gone,’ I said. ‘Please let us know how Marcus is doing, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’
I gave Marcus a little pat on the shoulder. ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Get well.’ Then Henry and I walked back to the office.
As soon as we got inside, I shut the door firmly and turned to him.
‘We’re going to Paris,’ I said, just as I’d said before.
‘I knew you were going to say that,’ he replied, just as he’d done before.
‘But you agree now that we need to go?’
He paused, and then he nodded. ‘We’re the only ones who know where Frances is. She could be starving or injured. By the time we get word to Paris, it could be too late.’
‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘Good.’
I paced across the office and back again.
‘The question is, how will we get there?’ I said. ‘Could we go up the escape lines in reverse? Marcus said the Resistance helped him.’
‘No, I don’t think so. Digby’s right that it would take a long time.’ Henry looked worried. ‘Perhaps we could drive. Find a car somewhere.’
I allowed myself a small smile. ‘Perhaps we could take Archie’s.’
Henry chuckled. ‘Not if we want to be incognito. There’s a reason he didn’t take his own when he went to Spain.’
‘I wish there was a train,’ I said. ‘Like the SudExpress.’
The overnight train between Lisbon and Paris had continued during the early months of the war, but it had stopped.
And it was expensive – affordable only for the very highest echelons of society.
Many of the early refugees had been exiled royals and aristocrats from Europe, who’d arrived in Lisbon on the SudExpress.
‘Hang on,’ said Henry. ‘I think the SudExpress still runs every now and then. The Nazis operate it. They use it to move officers and staff around.’
‘It does?’
‘Yes, Val mentioned it. It’s infrequent and expensive, but it exists.’
‘But it’s for Nazis?’
‘No, not just Nazis. You know how it is. If you’ve got enough money, you can do anything.’
‘Gosh, I think you’re right,’ I said slowly. ‘I remember Bea complaining that people with money and the right credentials were able to move across occupied Europe easily.’
‘That could be a solution,’ Henry said.
‘It depends how infrequent it is,’ I pointed out. ‘If it’s not leaving for another month, then it’s not an option. If it’s in the next few days, then it could work. Even waiting a while for a train could be quicker than trying to cross the mountains ourselves.’
‘I can find out.’
‘Can you?’
‘I know some people at the railway station,’ Henry said. He looked a little embarrassed. ‘I like trains.’
I smiled at him.
‘My brother liked trains, too.’
‘I’ll go and see what I can find out. But it’s bound to be expensive.’
I waved my hand. ‘We can charge it to the embassy and worry about that later.’ Rule breaking was apparently becoming a habit for me.
Henry nodded. ‘Good,’ he said, his tone suggesting it was anything but. ‘Well, this seems to be forming into a plan.’
‘Although …’ I began.
‘Although?’
‘We can’t travel on our own papers.’
‘Really?’ Henry sighed. ‘No, I suppose not. British embassy staff members wouldn’t blend into a train full of Nazi officers and aristocrats.’ He pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘What do we do about that?’
‘We travel on fake papers,’ I said.
Resigned, Henry nodded again.
‘Edith will help us,’ I told him.
‘And these fake papers?’ he asked.
‘We’ll be assuming the identities of exiled aristocrats,’ I said.
‘Seriously?’ Henry looked stricken. ‘How on earth are we going to do that?’
I grinned at him. ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I’ve done it before.’