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Evelyn set the large basket of produce down on the counter in the small kitchen.
“This was all I could get,” she told Josephine. “There wasn’t a bakery open that I could locate, and of the few grocers that I found, only one had anything left.”
“The city is half shuttered,” Finn added. “I was able to buy cigarettes and some boiled sweets, but that was all.”
“Half the city has fled south,” Yves said behind them as he walked into the kitchen, “and the other half is trying to stock their homes so that they can survive a siege.”
“It wasn’t even this bad in Paris,” Josephine said, looking through the basket.
“It will be.” Yves scratched his head and looked at them. “What will you do for food? Most of that will be useless to you unless you can build a fire.”
“We’ll do what we can, and hope that we come across something as we move south,” Evelyn said briskly. “That’s all we can do.”
He didn’t say anything, but went instead to the pantry. “I’m making soup for supper,” he called over his shoulder. “You’re welcome to share it with me. There is bread and I have cheese. At least I can send you off with full stomachs.”
“We should leave,” Josephine said. “It’s getting late, and we need to be on our way.”
“I was thinking about that on our way back,” Evelyn said slowly, sinking down into a chair at the table. She glanced at Finn, then back at Josephine. “I think perhaps we should wait until the German divisions have passed before we get onto the road.”
Josephine stared at her. “Wait? Why? Every second we stay here is another second that they get closer.”
“They’re already close,” Finn said. “We ran into them on the road.”
“What?!” Josephine exclaimed, drawing Yves back out of the pantry.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, a brown pottery jug in one hand.
“They say they ran into German troops on the road!”
“Well that’s not surprising. They were bound to pass by this way. They were only a few kilometers away early this morning.” Yves set the jug down on the counter and turned to go back to the pantry. “They passed by a little further north yesterday.”
He disappeared after that statement and Evelyn felt a chuckle pulling at her lips. The older man’s prosaic calm in the face of an invasion was something she didn’t think she would ever forget. He almost looked as though he was discussing the bus routes rather than an invasion force.
“What happened? Where did you see them?”
“On the road leaving Reims. They were going west.” Finn pulled out the chair across from Evelyn and sat down. “We had to get off the road.”
“How many were there?” Josephine looked from one to the other. “Did they stop?”
“I didn’t take the time to count,” Evelyn said dryly. “And I couldn’t see the tanks. They were in the fields. All we could see was the dust they were causing.”
Josephine blinked and leaned against the counter, her face pale. “Tanks? There were Panzers?”
Finn got up and went over to take her arm, guiding her to his vacant chair. “Yes. Please sit. You look as though you’ll fall down.”
“It’s simply unbelievable,” she stammered, sinking into the offered chair. “It’s one thing to know they’re here, but another to know that you actually saw them. Did they see you?”
“Yes, but they didn’t stop,” Evelyn said calmly. “It was disconcerting, though. It makes me wonder if perhaps it would be best to try to avoid running into more of them. I don’t think it’s an experience I’d like to repeat.”
“Surely they’re gone, though?” Josephine looked up at Finn. “You said they were going west? They must be going to reinforce the troops that have reached the coast.”
“Yes, but what if there are more?”
“Do you think there are?”
“I don’t know.”
“I can answer that question,” Yves said, emerging from the pantry again, this time with an armful of root vegetables. “There are at least two more coming through before tomorrow.”
“How do you know?” Josephine asked.
“I have a radio transmitter. I listened this morning to the reports from Maubeuge.”
“You have a radio?” Evelyn asked, surprised.
Yves smiled. “It is only a receiver. I can listen, but I cannot talk.”
“Where did you get it?” Josephine asked.
“It was left here as payment from another such as yourself,” he said with a shrug. “I have no idea who I’m listening to, but they’ve been correct so far. They forecast every division that has passed Reims.”
“And they said two more are coming?”
He nodded. “Three throughout the day. I believe the one you saw was the first.”
The trio at the table looked at each other, then Josephine shook her head.
“Even if we do wait until morning to leave, where will we stay?”
“Here, of course,” Yves said over his shoulder as he pulled a large knife out of a block and prepared to begin chopping vegetables. “I don’t mind having you for another night.”
“We can’t impose on you, Monsieur Michaud,” Evelyn protested. “You’ve already been more than kind.”
“And I don’t mind continuing,” he said, turning around with the knife in his hand. “It’s your decision, of course, but I’m happy to have you another night.”
Josephine and Evelyn looked at each other, then at Finn. He shrugged.
“I’d rather wait until morning. Being on the road with them today wasn’t pleasant. I’ll do whatever you decide, though.”
“I don’t know which is better,” Josephine said slowly. “If we leave, we may run into them on the road, yes. But if we stay, we may run the risk of them stopping and taking control of Reims, which would be worse.”
“If you’re worried that the Germans will raid the house, you can sleep in the barn,” Yves offered. “There’s an old wine cellar below it where I store, well, things that I wouldn’t want the police to find. If they come here, you can take refuge there until they’re gone. Although, I hardly think it likely that will be necessary. The Germans are too intent on reaching the coast and cutting off the troops and supplies. There’s nothing of interest here yet. We’re hardly in a strategic position.”
Evelyn met Josephine’s gaze. “Well?”
“What do you think?”
“As much as I want to get moving, I think it would be foolish to risk it today,” Evelyn said slowly. “If Monsieur Michaud is willing to allow us to remain for one more night, and we truly aren’t being an imposition...”
“Of course not!” Yves said, waving a hand impatiently. “I wouldn’t have offered if you were. I welcome the company.”
“Very well,” Josephine agreed. “We’ll stay here for today and leave at dawn.”
Evelyn let out a silent exhale and, as Josephine got up to help Yves with the soup preparation, she met Finn’s eyes across the kitchen. He looked relieved and gave her a small smile. She smiled back and stood up to pick up their basket of vegetables.
“I’ll carry this outside so that it’s out of the way,” she murmured, turning towards the back door.
“If you put it in the barn, the rabbits won’t get at your vegetables,” Yves said. “It’s clean and cool. I keep my winter stores there.”
“Thank you. I will.”
Evelyn went out of the door and started across the small kitchen garden towards the stone path that led to an old stone structure behind the house. Finn was happy to avoid another encounter with the Germans, and so was she. Her lips tightened. As it turned out, he was in just as much danger, if captured, as she was herself. He had just as much to lose, if not more. If the SS had any inkling of what he had been doing when he escaped to Holland, he would be considered a traitor and killed...or worse.
And yet he was still willing to continue to England with her, and continue the fight.
She shook her head, going through the little gate at the end of the garden and towards the barn. They were in a house with a man who created new papers and new identities for people. Finn could recreate himself and melt into the French countryside without looking back, yet he wasn’t considering it. He was coming with her to England, where he would presumably continue to work towards defeating the Nazis.
Evelyn took a deep breath, marveling at the bravery of the people around her. Jean-Pierre was going to continue from within the annals of the government for as long as he could, committed to building a resistance. Jens had refused to come to England with her, choosing instead to stay and help the French people. Josephine was remaining in France in order to continue the fight while the Germans were pouring into her country, knowing that she was already exposed as an intelligence agent. Her mind inevitably went to Norway, to Anna and Erik, who stayed behind to fight for their country even though the Germans had taken control. And then there was Peder, who had died so that she could live.
How could she ever live up to what they all had done, and were continuing to do every day?
Paris
Henry entered his hotel and went towards the front desk. The lobby was empty and only a single porter stood near the door. Paris was far from the bustling City of Lights these days. It was rapidly becoming a ghost town as panicked citizens fled in the face of the German advance. He supposed he should be grateful that London was arranging all his transportation home. The roads were clogged, the trains were running non-stop and were packed to capacity, and even getting a taxi was becoming near impossible. His meeting had been cut short this morning, and it was becoming evident, even to the French government, that they might have to leave Paris. It was something that they had refused to consider, but now he didn’t see how they could continue to ignore the facts.
“Are there any messages?” he asked the uniformed man behind the counter.
“Yes, Monsieur. It came an hour ago.” The man turned to retrieve a telegram, handing it to him a moment later.
“Thank you.”
Henry turned away and continued towards the lift. Once the BEF was cut off from reinforcements, there would be nowhere for them to go. The cream of the British army would be trapped on the coast of France. Once their allies were taken prisoner, France would be forced to surrender. It was only a matter of time.
And then the Führer would control Europe to the Channel.
Henry stepped into the lift, nodding to the attendant. There was a time when he would have scoffed at the idea of Germany taking over so many countries in so short a time, but those days were long in the past. He had seen the power of the German armies, and the might of its air force. The Führer had brought Germany back into the forefront of global power. He had proven that the Third Reich was a force that could not be opposed. France was only another link in the chain; England was the next.
Once the opposition was quelled, Henry could then take his place in Berlin with the victors.
The lift came to a stop and the attendant opened the doors with a nod. Henry stepped out, turning down the corridor towards his room. In the meantime, however, he still had work to do both here in Paris and in London. He couldn’t celebrate yet. This war was far from over, and he still had to do his part.
A moment later, Henry was closing his door and unbuttoning his overcoat. He reached into his pocket to pull out the telegram, ripping it open as he crossed the room to the writing desk near the window. It was the message from Berlin that he’d been waiting for.
FARMER HAD TWO CHILDREN. SON OWNS A FARM WEST OF LUCERNE. DAUGHTER’S WHEREABOUTS UNKNOWN. BELIEVED TO HAVE LEFT SWITZERLAND.
Henry dropped the telegram on the desk and turned to remove his coat. So the old man had a daughter. That had to have been the woman who visited the house, but why? Her father had been dead for over a year. Why return to an empty house, if not to look for something?
He draped his coat over the foot of the bed and pulled out a cigarette case. Taking one out, he tapped it on the case thoughtfully. Why hadn’t he known about the daughter before? His lips tightened suddenly and he made an impatient sound in his throat. Because she was a woman. The people in Berlin had obviously not considered that a man would confide in a daughter over a son.
“And so she is invisible,” he murmured to himself, lifting the cigarette to his lips with one hand while he fished in his pockets for his lighter. “It really is intolerable.”
He lit his cigarette and turned to go back to the desk, staring down at the telegram. Believed to have left Switzerland, but when? This week? Last month? Last year? Could they be any more vague?
His gaze shifted to the window and he went to stand beside it, staring down into the street below. He supposed she could have gone to the house to look around and revisit memories. Women were known to be emotional creatures. Yet he found it to be too much of a coincidence that she’d gone back to the house when she did. Smoking his cigarette slowly, Henry gazed pensively out the window. What did she know? Had the old man told her something about Ainsworth? Had he told her where to look if something happened to him?
Henry turned away from the window impatiently. They had searched the house. It was empty. But what if it wasn’t? What if they’d missed something? And what if she knew what it was? And had it now?
So many questions, and he was running out of time to find the answers. Soon he would be forced to remain in London as the German army swept through France. And once France surrendered, he would lose access to Paris. If the daughter was here in France, and he now believed that she was the one who got off the airplane, then this was his only opportunity to find her, and to find out what she knew.
Stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray, Henry sat down at the table and pulled a clean telegram sheet towards him. He would send an urgent message to his man in Bern. If anyone could dig up information on the children, he would be the one to do it. He may even know himself. He’d lived in the area for most of his life, and knew everyone worth knowing.
Composing the coded message, Henry felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. While he may only have a limited amount of time left in France, he knew that it would be enough if his contact came through with information quickly. He had at least another week before the situation became critical in France and he would be forced to leave. Plenty of time to find the daughter, and find out what she knew.
Henry didn’t know why he was so sure that it had something to do with Ainsworth, but he was convinced that it did. There was no one else the old man was close with. Oh, he’d had contact with other spies and so-called intelligence officers, but Ainsworth was the big fish. He was the one who mattered. All the others were small fry, and had been rolled up one by one before they finally made it to the old man. No. If she knew anything at all, Henry was positive it was about Ainsworth. It could lead him to the missing package, or at least point him in the right direction.
His pen paused and he looked up, staring at the window, lost in thought. Once he had the package back, he could focus all his energy on locating the mysterious Jian. Berlin wanted what Ainsworth had stolen back, but they wanted the English spy more. He didn’t know why, nor did he care. All he knew was that if he was able to hand both over to his handler, his place in Berlin would be assured. He would not only be the only spy left in England, but he would have the distinction of doing what the SS could not: locating the spy called Jian and leading them to her.
A cold smile twisted his lips and he returned his attention to the message before him. But first, the daughter must be found.
