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Evelyn looked up as Josephine came out of the house, a sweater thrown around her shoulders. The day was coming to a close and a cool breeze was blowing across the small garden. Seeing the sweater, Evelyn realized that she was chilly and shivering. She had come outside for some fresh air over an hour before, settling on the soft ground beneath a tree, and had been lost in her own thoughts ever since.
“Aren’t you cold?” Josephine called.
“I wasn’t until I saw your sweater,” Evelyn replied with a laugh, preparing to get up. “Now I am.”
“Wait. I’ll get you something.”
Josephine turned and disappeared back into the house, reappearing a moment later with a man’s sweater.
“Yves said to use this. He keeps it near the back door for running out to the barn,” she said, crossing the garden and holding out the maroon cardigan.
“That’s very kind of him.” Evelyn took the sweater, pulling it around her shoulders as Josephine settled down beside her. “He’s going out of his way to help us.”
“He’s a good man. Once we got the soup cooking, he said he would make us some bread to take with us. He said it would give us more than some strawberries and beans to eat.”
Evelyn blinked. “He makes his own bread?”
“Yes. He seems to do everything. He told me when his wife was alive, he enjoyed helping her in the kitchen. Now that she’s gone, he prefers to cook for himself.” Josephine leaned back against the tree, her head on the side of the wide trunk. She stretched her legs out, facing diagonally from Evelyn, and exhaled contentedly. “He’s really an interesting character. Did you know that he has a small vineyard? He sells the grapes to a winemaker on the other side of Reims.”
“I saw it on the other side of the barn, but I didn’t know that was his.”
“Yes. He said the drought this year has been terrible for him.” Josephine paused then chuckled. “But then he said that the war is helping by making his other job lucrative.”
Evelyn grinned. “At least he has another form of income.” Then she sobered. “What will he do if...when the Germans occupy the area?”
“I didn’t ask, and he didn’t say. He’s too old to be sent to work in a factory. I suppose he’ll stay here and try to make a living with his grapes.”
They were both silent, sobered by the thought of the hardships ahead for the man who was doing so much for them.
“The papers he gave me are perfect,” Josephine said after a few moments, lowering her voice. “I wouldn’t know they weren’t real. He even aged the birth certificate. I have no idea how he did it, but it genuinely looks old. I don’t know why he isn’t working for the government.”
“What is your new name?”
“Jeannine Renaud.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle Renaud.”
“I must destroy everything with my name on it. I thought I’d wait until after dinner and burn them in the fireplace. I don’t want to risk drawing attention with a fire outside.” Josephine paused for a moment, then cleared her throat. “He brought up a valid point when he gave them to me. I can’t go anywhere that anyone knows me for who I really am.”
Evelyn glanced at her. “Like Marseilles?”
“Yes. I was going to stay with an old friend of mine, and her husband was going to try to find me work in his factory. I can’t do that now.”
“What will you do?”
“I have absolutely no idea. I don’t have the funds to go where there’s no work. I just don’t know where to go.”
Evelyn frowned and thought for a moment. “What about Lyon?”
“Yves believes that that is where Marc and Luc are heading. If I end up there as well, it would defeat the purpose of us splitting up.”
“That’s true.” They were both silent again and then Evelyn looked at her consideringly. “You could always come all the way to Bordeaux and stay there. It’s a port city. I’m sure there must be work there.”
Josephine was silent for a moment, thinking. “I stayed there once with my parents for a holiday. Well, not in the city, but outside it. I was only a girl at the time. We stayed with friends of my mother in the country. I remember I loved it. The weather was warm and mild. It was near Saint-Émilion, I believe. What was the name of it?”
She fell silent, thinking, and Evelyn watched as a large hawk circled high above the house, looking for dinner. The bird of prey was completely unaware of the turmoil affecting its hunting ground below. Suddenly she envied the wildlife. They had no idea what was happening and were continuing their daily existence in complete ignorance of the war raging across their land.
“Castillon-sur-Dordogne!” Josephine exclaimed suddenly a few moments later, startling Evelyn out of her reverie. “That was it!”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s named after the river. I remember my father telling me when we went fishing during a picnic one day.”
“Do you think that’s a possibility?”
“It’s as good as any,” Josephine replied with a shrug. “If you cross the bridge, you’re in the country. I may be able to find a boarding house or someone with a room to let. It’s a large town, if I remember correctly.”
“Well, it’s a starting point, at any rate,” Evelyn said. “What kind of work will you get?”
“Any that I can find. I won’t be choosy. I can’t afford to be. I have enough francs to get there and find a room, but that’s it.”
“I can give you some money to help you get yourself settled,” Evelyn offered, thinking of the stacks of cash hidden in the bottom of her suitcase. “It will be enough to get started.”
“I can’t take your money,” Josephine said, shaking her head. “No. I will be fine.”
“What if you can’t find work right away?” Evelyn turned to face her with a frown. “Don’t be ridiculous. After paying for your new papers, you can’t have very much left. Let me help you. If you must, consider it a loan.”
“Then what will you do if you can’t get back to England before the Germans come? I can’t leave you short.”
“Let me worry about that. Please. I’d like to help. You’ve done so much for me. Allow me to repay you.”
Josephine looked at her for a moment. “I’ve not done much at all,” she finally said. “No more than anyone else would have done.”
“Rubbish. You’ve been a friend, and helped me when I needed food, sleep, and a guide. And that’s not taking into account the little matter of your saving me from the Gestapo in Strasbourg.”
“Rubbish? Be careful. Your English is showing,” Josephine said with a grin. Then she sighed. “All those things I did precisely because I do consider you a friend. Well, perhaps not Strasbourg. But certainly everything afterwards. There is nothing to repay.”
“Then allow me to return the favor. Every time I see you, I’m in need of assistance. Now I can be of help to you.”
The two women stared at each other for a moment, then Josephine relented. “Very well.”
Evelyn smiled and stood up, brushing off her skirt and reaching out a hand to help Josephine up.
“Thank you. Now let’s go help Monsieur Michaud with the bread.”
Josephine stood up and hooked her arm through Evelyn’s as they walked towards the house.
“I’m so glad you decided to join the cause after Strasbourg,” she said with a smile. “You’re like the sister I never had.”
Evelyn laughed and squeezed her arm. “As are you. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”
“Of course! I’m like a cat. I always land on my feet.”
Eisenjager climbed out of the car and stretched, closing the door quietly. He had parked it behind a hedge along the lane leading to the house where Jian and her companions were staying. The sun had gone down over an hour before and he was surrounded by the kind of inky darkness that could only be found in the countryside away from a city. It reminded him of his home before he joined the military. His family had lived on a farm in the country. The economic crisis had hit them hard. When Hitler promised food and work, both he and his father had leapt at the chance. His father was able to revive his farm, and Eisenjager was able to make a career for himself in the newly formed Sicherheitsdienst des Reichsführers. Making his way through the darkness, he reflected on how very different things were now.
Yet the darkness was the same.
Holding a thin flashlight pointed to the ground, Eisenjager made his way across a fallow field in the direction of the house. They had come here the night before, and they hadn’t left yet. Just to be sure, though, he was going to look himself. After losing her in Marle, he wasn’t about to take the chance of the Englishwoman having slipped past him again.
His lips tightened as his foot slipped in a divot in the ground, sending him stumbling forward. He regained his balance easily, but turned his eyes back to the uneven terrain. When she and the man had been caught on the road with the advancing troops, Eisenjager had been well behind them. He came along the road to find them standing on a hill, confronted by a German officer, while his division waited in the road. He shook his head. He had felt a moment of enraged panic at the prospect of losing his target once again, but the emotion had faded as the officer turned to leave them. Whatever had been said, it had convinced him that they were no threat. For once, Eisenjager was not amused at the foolishness of others, but grateful that the commanding officer was unaware of the woman’s identity. If it had been one of the SS divisions, it could have ended very differently, and he would have lost the spy once again.
And then his controller in Hamburg would have been angry.
Through the darkness, a light flickered, drawing his attention up and away from the ground. The house was ahead of him, on the other side of a low, stone wall. He switched off the flashlight and slowly made his way forward in pitch blackness.
He had received a message from his handler this morning. His orders were to hold for now. They wanted to know why the spy from London was interested in Jian before confirming the order to terminate her. For that matter, Eisenjager wanted to know what his interest was as well. But he knew the Abwehr wouldn’t share that information with him. They would simply confirm or pull his standing order. For now, his instructions were to continue to watch her and monitor who she saw and where she went. He was to contact them again on the 27th, or if he thought she was about to leave France. On no account was he to allow anything to happen to the spy.
Easier said than done in the middle of an invasion.
Reaching the low wall, Eisenjager went over it and crept forward to crouch in the night under a tree. The house wasn’t big, but the front windows were large and light poured from them. The curtains hadn’t been closed and he could see right into the front room. It was empty now, but he waited patiently. Electricity was expensive. If the light had been left on, it was because someone was coming back into the room. All he needed to see was whether or not the spy was still there. If she was, he could return to his car and wait until morning. The only way back to the road was to pass him. He would be able to ensure they didn’t sneak away.
A moment later, an older man walked into the room carrying a glass in his hand. Right behind him was the man who had been with Jian this morning in the city. Eisenjager continued to watch. The two men settled down in chairs and the younger one lit a cigarette. There was no sign of the women.
Pursing his lips, Eisenjager waited another minute, then turned and went around the side of the house, keeping to the shadows. Perhaps they were in the kitchen, washing up.
He passed the car they had been driving this morning, but didn’t lend it any more than a cursory glance. The car meant nothing. It could belong to the man, and Jian could have snuck away on foot. She had done so in Marle. There was not saying she hadn’t once again. If she was still there now, however, the chances were high that she would remain for the night. In Marle, she knew she’d been seen. Of course she ran. But now, she had no idea he’d found her again; she thought she was safe.
Reaching a small garden behind the house, he moved along the edge, careful not to step into the light cast from the kitchen window. Peering out of the darkness, he felt a surge of satisfaction at the sight of both women standing near the window. They were busy with their hands, washing dishes no doubt. As he watched, the Englishwoman laughed at something the other said and he pressed his lips together. She really was a beautiful woman.
What was she doing here? She should be home with a husband and small children, not gallivanting across Europe in the middle of a war. But here she was, and there was nothing he could do about her fate, whatever it might be. Her life was in his hands, and his hands were bound by the Abwehr. If they gave the order, he would shoot her without thinking twice. If they didn’t, she would live to see another day. It was the way of it.
Turning, he retraced his steps to return to the car. At least he knew she was still there. That was all he needed to see to be able to rest easy. He hadn’t lost her again. She was right where she should be.
And when she left, he would be right there to follow her.
Evelyn made herself as comfortable as possible on the back seat of the Renault. She was surrounded by food. Her suitcase had been stowed in the storage compartment at the back, along with Josephine’s and Finn’s, in order to make room for the provisions around her. In addition to the basket of vegetables that she’d purchased the day before, there was an old wine crate filled with two loaves of bread, fresh out of the oven just before they left, three bottles of wine, and two large jugs filled with water. Yves had insisted on all of it, telling them that he didn’t want to think of them on their journey without the basic necessities. When Finn had laughingly questioned the wine as a necessity, he was met with exclamations of outrage. Evelyn smiled now, glancing at the wine. As the sun was just breaking over the horizon, turning the sky from black to gray, Finn had learned to never question a Frenchman’s wine.
“Are you comfortable?” Finn asked, glancing back at her. “There isn’t much room, is there?”
“I’m perfectly all right,” she assured him with a smile. “I wish Yves would have taken more for all of this. He would only allow me to pay him for the petrol.”
“I’m still wondering why he has a store of it in his cellar,” Josephine said. “It’s ridiculously expensive, and getting more and more scarce. Farmers don’t have it for their tractors, yet he has a cellar full of it.”
“He’s a smart man, Monsieur Michaud,” Finn said, turning his eyes back to the road in front of him. “He can sell it, as he did to us, or use it to bargain with for food and supplies.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Josephine said. “How horrible that it’s come to that!”
“Finn, when you get tired, I can drive for a while,” Evelyn said, shifting in her seat.
“You can drive?” he asked, surprised.
“Yes. I enjoy it.”
“Then I will be happy to share the driving with you.” He glanced at Josephine. “I know you can, but don’t like to.”
“No. I hate it, and I’m not very good. I’ll leave it to both of you,” she said cheerfully. “I’m a much better navigator. I’ll take charge of the map!”
Evelyn watched rolling fields speed by the window as Finn skirted around the city of Reims on his way to the road that would take them south. Before leaving Yves’ house, they had listened to the wireless receiver, trying to determine where the advancing troops were, and where they were going. By all accounts, the Germans were still heading west. They were converging on Calais, no doubt with an aim to make it impossible for Allied soldiers to move south. While that was bad news for the BEF, it was good news for them. It meant that once they were going towards Paris, they should be out of the range of any more German divisions. At least, for the time being.
“When you reach Bordeaux, what then?” Josephine asked, breaking the silence some time later. “Will there be a boat waiting for you?”
“I don’t think so.” Evelyn shifted her attention from the passing countryside. “I’m to go to a café and ask for a man there. Then I’m to contact London.”
“How?”
“I have absolutely no idea. I presume the man I’m to make contact with will have a way. If not, I can send an encoded telegram.” Evelyn shifted in her seat. “He didn’t give a time frame, so I assume transport will be sent when he receives word that we’ve arrived.”
“Is it always so vague?”
Evelyn chuckled. “No. I usually have my transportation waiting for me.”
“I suppose this isn’t the usual situation,” Josephine mused. “If you’re meeting a contact, I think I’ll leave you before you enter Bordeaux, if you don’t mind. I don’t want the risk of anyone involved seeing me with you. I hope it’s not offending you, but I will need to start a new life without any ties.”
“Of course I understand,” Evelyn assured her. “You need to be discreet now.”
Finn looked at Josephine. “You are not going to Marseilles?”
“No. I’ve decided Bordeaux will be better,” she said with a shrug. “It’s best to go where no one knows me as me, now that I am someone else.”
“Ah, of course.” Finn’s brow cleared in sudden understanding. “I understand.”
“It will be exciting,” Evelyn said after a minute. “You can start fresh. You have an open, blank page before you.”
“Yes, if we ever get there,” Josephine murmured, staring ahead.
Evelyn raised her eyebrow and leaned forward to look through the windshield. She stared at the traffic ahead of them. Cars, trucks, carts, bicycles: if it could move, it seemed as if it was on the road.
“What on earth?” she breathed. “Already? I thought we’d at least make it past Paris before we ran into this!”
“It looks like everyone and their mother is going south,” Finn said, slowing his speed as they approached the much slower-moving traffic. “This is worse than it was in Belgium!”
Evelyn sat back in her seat, suppressing a sigh. Finn was right. It looked as if most of northern France was on the road going south.
It was going to be a long drive.
