Chapter 36
L izzie walked towards the harbour, her skin clammy from rushing.
She had borrowed a dress from Sophie, who, although very concerned about her meeting with the SS officer, didn’t hesitate to help her choose something suitable to wear when she explained it was important.
The result was a stylish outfit that complemented her curves without being too revealing.
Heinrich had made it clear this was a date, and if she was to keep up the pretence and string him along to complete the mission without arousing his suspicions, she must play the part of a young French woman smitten with the sophisticated German officer.
Before leaving the house, she had written a note to him explaining she had been called back to Paris on a family emergency, and she had enjoyed their time together and was sorry to leave so suddenly, but such was the nature of wartime.
Lizzie stuck the notepaper in an envelope her aunt provided and entrusted it to her care. ‘If I have to leave suddenly, please arrange for Herr Adler to receive this note. That way, my disappearance won’t alarm him.’
Aunt Giselle said, ‘Very well. I can’t say I’m not alarmed, though. What do you mean by disappearing suddenly? Where would you go?’
Lizzie squeezed her aunt’s shoulder. ‘It is better you don’t know. If anyone asks you, just repeat the story about my returning to Paris. Say my mother needs me.’
‘We will miss you, ma chérie,’ Giselle whispered. ‘When might you leave?’
Lizzie hugged her aunt tightly, and both were in tears as they clung together.
‘I don’t know. It depends, but soon I will go on a trip, and it’s possible I won’t be able to return to St. Malo. That’s when you’ll need to send the letter. Charles can deliver it to the mansion.’
‘And what if the German asks for your address in Paris?’ she asked.
Lizzie pondered. It was a good question.
‘Say the mail has been so unreliable you haven’t received a letter from my mother in months and have unfortunately mislaid the address.
Fob him off politely—he’s SS, but he’s also been raised as a German aristocrat and, as such, he observes social etiquette.
Anyway, my bet is he wants a mistress here for convenience, not a long-distance companion to correspond with. ’
‘What a clever girl you are,’ Aunt Giselle said. ‘That makes sense, so I shall do exactly as you say. I do hope you’ll be with us for some time before you leave on your mysterious trip.’
With one last hug, Giselle urged Lizzie to be cautious, and as she exited the back door, Minou brushed her ankles and meowed for dinner as she bent down to stroke her.
Lizzie reached the harbour entrance. A guard asked her the purpose of her visit, and she noticed he stood straighter when she said she was there by invitation of Heinrich Adler.
He checked her papers and opened the barrier.
Once through, she spotted a car, and Heinrich’s driver rushed around to open the door for her.
‘How beautiful you look, Rose,’ Heinrich said as she joined him in the back of the car.
She accepted his compliment with grace and tried not to panic about how she would fend him off if they were left alone.
There was a crackle of tension in the air, and she sensed he was nearing the point where he would try to kiss her.
He had got close to it after their last lunch, but she’d been lucky when he was called away on urgent business.
She couldn’t rely on luck, and the little knife nestled in the lining of her coat that she had worn again despite the increasingly warm weather.
Heinrich was a big, muscular man, and although she was trained to kill with her bare hands, it was the last option she would use.
Heinrich was more useful alive than dead.
If she killed him, all systems would be alerted, and she’d be hunted down, reducing her chances of getting the critical intelligence and film back to London.
The skill of an SOE agent was in moving as silently as a cat. Her mission was to extract intelligence undercover, not to create chaos and murder Germans—even high-ranking Nazis—unless in self-defence or critical to the mission.
The car pulled up in front of a gorgeous white yacht, and Lizzie made a show of gasping. ‘What a beauty she is!’
Heinrich held out his hand to help her across the long wooden gangplank, and they boarded the magnificent yacht, which bobbed gently on the sparkling water.
It was a sunny afternoon, and Lizzie accepted Heinrich’s offer to remove her coat but laid it on the cushioned bench in the cockpit area.
Heinrich wore dark trousers, a sailing jacket and an officer’s cap in place of his uniform.
It was more casual than his usual attire, but there was no mistaking his identity, the collar tabs on his jacket clearly marked him as an SS officer.
Lizzie watched with growing trepidation as his leather-gloved hands cast off and he started the engine like a proficient sailor.
Lizzie had hoped the captain of the yacht would accompany them, and now her chest hammered as the reality of being completely alone with him on the open seas sunk in.
‘You are a skilled yachtsman,’ she said, swallowing the lump in her throat and attempting a light tone.
‘Yes, we have glorious lakes in Bavaria. I learnt to sail with the Hitler Youth and won many prizes. I often wished I lived by the sea, and during my time in St. Malo, I have developed my skills accordingly.’
‘Sailing on a lake must differ greatly from the sea,’ Lizzie said. ‘Not that I know much about sailing, living in Paris.’
‘It is different, and the tidal patterns and coastal hazards around Brittany can be dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing. Don’t worry, mademoiselle, you are in safe hands.’ Heinrich flashed her a predatory smile. ‘The previous owner taught me exactly how to handle her.’
The SS officer’s large, gloved hands caught her eye again, and she shivered. The implication was clear. The previous owner had been forced to teach the thief who stole his yacht how to get the best out of her for his own pleasure.
Lizzie dragged her thoughts out of the swirl of anger that wouldn’t serve her now. ‘We will sail completely alone? Silly me, I imagined you would have some kind of captain or helmsman.’
‘No need, Rose. I love nothing more than sailing. Soon we will toast our fortuitous meeting with a glass of champagne on this spectacular afternoon.’
‘It’s hard to believe there’s a war going on,’ she said when they were out on the open water, surrounded by natural beauty, the sun gently warming her face beneath her brimmed hat.
Heinrich turned to face her, still steering.
‘Victory is inevitable. Whilst these times are difficult for some, they are merely a natural and necessary part of implementing the new order of the Third Reich. Life will be better for you because of it once we destroy the enemy. Trust me. You will see.’
Lizzie made herself keep her eyes on his.
Trust him.
His certainty that Germany would win the war was frightening, and for a moment she slipped into an alternative reality. If she weren’t so entrenched with the Allies and exposed to the diabolical truth of the evil Nazi regime, would she be in danger of falling under his spell?
Heinrich was intelligent, handsome and charismatic.
The Nazis had entranced much of their own nation with the seductive promise of the power and success of the rising Third Reich.
The thought plagued her as the yacht picked up speed and rode the waves; the vessel rising and falling with the swell of the water and she closed her eyes, abandoning her senses to the salty breeze, wishing she were back in London in Jack’s arms.
Her longing for him was palpable and almost brought her to tears.
Jack’s deep, tender voice spoke in her mind, guiding her through this terrible moment. ‘You must never doubt that we will win the war, Seagrove. There can be no other option. Entertaining one, can get you killed.’
Heinrich slowed the yacht and pointed with one gloved finger. ‘That is Fort National.’
The German war flag had replaced the French tricolour, and Lizzie studied the position of the gun emplacements and sentries visible on the walls, committing every detail to memory.
‘This is nothing compared to the defences we will build,’ Heinrich said, pride ringing in his voice as a light sea spray stroked Lizzie’s cheeks and they circled the forbidding fortress.
Heinrich was absorbed in the navigation of the rocky coastline, which required all his attention, and she realised it might be a blessing in disguise that they were alone.
‘That’s Dinard,’ he said some time later, and as they neared the coast, she saw a row of elegant waterfront villas and hotels. Heinrich cut the engine, and the yacht bobbed on the water, as Lizzie accepted a glass of chilled champagne.
Heinrich steered Lizzie firmly to face the other way and swept his hand towards the breathtaking view of St. Malo.
‘This is what I wanted you to see. Isn’t it stunning?’
Lizzie said it was mesmerising and released a taut breath when he dropped his hands from her shoulders.
The sun was sinking slowly over the ancient ramparts like a magical golden ball, illuminating the pale granite walls, and the St. Vincent Cathedral spire rose above the old city, reassuring in its timelessness.
The scene was worthy of a picture postcard, and ruined only by the German flags and swastika banners every way she looked, proclaiming ownership of la belle France.
‘Sante, Rose. To many more moments together like this.’
They clinked glasses, and Heinrich moved closer.
He sipped his champagne and looked into her eyes. ‘Thank you for coming today. It means a lot. My posting can get lonely, so far away from my family and friends.’
Lizzie felt his subtle switch to intimacy, and her heart pounded as she imagined potential scenarios and how to extract herself without angering him.