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Evelyn stood perfectly still in the darkness, hardly daring to breathe as she listened to the conversation at the back door. She and Jens were concealed in the pantry off the kitchen accessed by going down three stone steps. The door at the top of the steps was closed and locked, but light shone through the crack between the floor and the door. A shadow had crossed in front of the pantry on the way to answer the insistent knocking, and now she strained to listen to the conversation, her heart pounding. She could only make out a few words through the heavy door, but they were enough to convince her that the man outside was German. The accent was unmistakable, at least to her.
Jens stood unmoving beside her and she could hear his shallow breathing as he struggled to catch his breath. He was still breathless. For that matter, so was she. They had run for all they were worth with the tall man closing the distance between them. Evelyn was sure he was going to catch them when they ran down the alleyway. In fact, she still wasn’t sure that they were safe.
The SS had found her after all. They must have been watching Asp, waiting for her to show up. But how did they know she would go there? They had to have been only guessing that she would pass the packet on to him, but it seemed like an awfully large risk. It was one she wasn’t sure she would have taken. Yet it had paid off for them. She had shown up, and they had almost trapped her. While the tall man chased them on foot, another one was in a black sedan. He had turned into the road just as they were crossing to go into the alleyway. She hadn’t been able to get a good look at him, but the car had Belgian tags on it. It wasn’t a local returning home late that had tried to cut them off at the field.
The conversation at the back door ended and she heard the click of the door closing, and then the sound of footsteps crossing the kitchen. She and Jens stood listening to the ensuing silence. The seconds ticked by and he looked at her, nodding to the door. Evelyn shook her head, motioning to wait a minute longer. After what seemed like an eternity, the footsteps returned to the kitchen. A shadow appeared beneath the door and the lock was unlatched. The door swung open and light poured into the darkness, making her blink in the sudden brightness.
“You can come out now,” the man with the pipe told them, motioning them out. “They’re gone.”
“Are you sure?” Jens asked, going up the steps.
“I watched them drive away.” The man watched them climb out of the pantry and closed the door after them. “They may come back, though. You must leave quickly.”
Evelyn looked at him and nodded. “Yes. Thank you for everything, Marcel.”
Marcel waved her thanks away. “Did Asp seem suspicious of the package I made?”
“He didn’t even look at it,” Jens told him. “He just put it away. Unfortunately, he was suspicious of Marie.”
Marcel frowned. “What happened?”
“It’s my fault. She introduced herself as Annette, but then I slipped and started to call her Marie. It turns out he already knew the SS were looking for a woman named Marie who had traveled from Brussels.”
“They must have been there earlier.” Marcel looked from one to the other. “What did you do? How did you convince him that he was wrong?”
“We didn’t.” Evelyn sank onto the edge of a seat at the kitchen table. “He tried to...well, to be honest, I’m not sure what he tried to do. He lunged for me, and before any of us knew what was happening, he had pulled a gun.”
“What?!”
“Jens struggled with him,” she said, suddenly very tired. “He lost his footing and fell, hitting his head on the mantel first and then falling on the fireplace poker. Asp is dead.”
Marcel stared at her, speechless. Jens moved to stand beside her, laying his hand on her shoulder.
“It was an accident,” he told Marcel defensively. “He was trying to strangle me and I pushed him away. He tripped and fell backwards. I couldn’t stop it.”
“My God,” Marcel breathed, running a hand through his hair. “What did you do with him?”
“What could we do? We left him there.”
Marcel turned to pace across the kitchen restlessly, then turned back, a worried frown on his face.
“I can’t pretend to be upset, and I know there won’t be many in this village who will be, but the police will have to investigate. Between the SS and the police, you must move quickly and get out of the area.” He looked at Jens. “We have to assume that the Germans know your car. You can’t take it. It will be too risky. They might be looking for it.”
“But we can’t walk to Paris!” Evelyn exclaimed. “We have to take the car!”
He shook his head. “No. Leave the car here and take mine.”
“We can’t do that! You’ll be in danger if they see the car here.”
Marcel went over to a hook on the wall and took down a set of keys.
“They won’t see it. I’ll cover it and leave it where I usually park mine. No one will even notice. Our cars are about the same size.” He carried the keys over to Jens and held them out. “You must take it!” he insisted when Jens hesitated. “Go to my flat in Paris. I’ll come as soon as it’s safe. We’ll switch cars again then.”
“Are you sure?” Jens asked, taking the keys. “What if the Germans get past Sedan and cross the Meuse tonight?”
“Then you’ll see me sooner,” Marcel replied dryly. “Now hurry. You must leave before they return, and I have to get your car covered and out of sight.”
He went over to a pad on the counter and scrawled an address on it, tearing the piece of paper off.
“Here’s the address in Paris.” He handed it to Evelyn with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll know just where it is.”
She looked down at the address and nodded. “I know this area.”
“I thought you might. Now you both must go. I’ll meet you there in a few days.”
Evelyn stood up and she and Jens turned towards the door. As she reached it, she turned back and held out her hand.
“Thank you,” she said, her eyes meeting his. “For everything. Without your warning, I would not have been prepared.”
He smiled and shook her hand. “Oh, I think you would have managed just fine,” he said slowly. “You’re stronger than you think.” He looked over to Jens and held out his hand. “You both are, even though I know you don’t feel that at the moment.”
“No, I don’t,” Jens admitted, shaking his hand.
“I know. Just remember that this, too, will pass, and you will be even stronger for it. Now go. And God speed to you.”
Paris, France
May 13
Late afternoon sun was pouring through the tall windows in the living room, filling the spacious room with light, when Evelyn walked in. She smiled at the sight of Jens fast asleep on the sofa. It was much too short for him and his legs hung over one end, sending a wave of remorse through her. They had arrived at Jean-Pierre’s apartment in the early hours of the morning, exhausted, and she had taken the bedroom without thinking. Now, looking at how uncomfortable Jens looked, Evelyn felt sorry for not offering to sleep on the couch. She would have been uncomfortable, but at least her legs wouldn’t have hung over the end.
She crossed the room quietly to the windows, being careful not to disturb the sleeping man. He had driven Jean-Pierre’s Renault through the winding French roads in the darkness like a man chased by a legion of demons, ignoring her offer to drive. He said he needed the distraction. Looking out the window over the city, she couldn’t fault him for that. They had both been shaken and horrified over what had happened in the house in Marle, and they had made most of the trip not knowing if their nightmare was over yet. He must have been struggling with the knowledge that he was the one who caused the accident. He would most likely struggle with it for the rest of his life. It didn’t seem to matter that Asp had been a traitor, and was clearly intent on causing serious bodily injury to one, or both, of them. A man was dead, and that was something they couldn’t unsee or undo.
Evelyn rubbed her arms, trying to ward off the chill the memory brought with it, and gazed down into the busy street below. She still couldn’t believe it had happened, really. It was like a horrible nightmare that was hazy in her recollection, but that she knew she’d had. But it wasn’t a dream, and they had left behind a dead body covered with a blanket in a shabby little sitting room in Marle. Did he have family? Someone to mourn him? She shook her head, almost as if she could shake away the thoughts. It did no good to think like this. It had happened. It was an accident, and he had died. She had to stop thinking about it. There was no point to dwelling on it.
Evelyn forced her thoughts away from Asp and instead to the package that was still safely concealed in her coat lining. She had to get it to London as soon as possible, but she couldn’t simply leave Jens to struggle as best as he could in a strange city. She looked over her shoulder at him, still asleep. What if the Germans did make it to Paris? He didn’t have anywhere to go, and if the worst happened, how would he fare as a foreigner in occupied France? For that matter, how would any of them fare? She returned her gaze to the streets below. What would happen to Josephine and Marc and Luc? What would happen to Gisele and Nicolas?
The thought of her cousins brought another wave of sadness. She wished she could go to see if they were still in Paris. She would feel so much better if she knew for sure that they had moved to the Chateau in the south with her aunt and uncle. At least then they would have time to flee to England if the Germans did sweep into Paris. If only she could go to the house and see them! But it was out of the question. They couldn’t know she was in Paris. It would lead to too many questions; questions she was unable to answer. And so she had to hope and pray that they were watching the progress of the German armies, and planning accordingly.
“What time is it?”
Evelyn turned in surprise to find Jens struggling into a sitting position on the sofa, rubbing his face.
“Just past three.”
“Good Lord! That late?”
She nodded with a short laugh. “That late. We both slept the day away. I’ve only just got up myself.”
“What were you thinking of just now?” he asked. “When I woke up, you looked very sad.”
“I was just thinking of all the people here and what they will do if the Nazis make it into France,” she said, walking over to sit in a chair. “After seeing the panic in Brussels, I’m looking at Paris and wondering what will happen.” She was quiet for a minute, then she looked at him. “If France falls, will you go back to Brussels? It might be better than staying in a strange country.”
“No. I don’t know. I don’t think I can,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m a traitor to my country, and by now they know that. I don’t know what to do, to be honest. I feel lost now. My whole purpose for being here was to deliver the decoded messages. Now that I’ve done that, I don’t know what to do.”
Evelyn was silent, thinking. He was right. There was nothing for him in Belgium now, and yet there was nothing for him in France either.
“Why don’t you come back to England with me?” she asked, surprising both herself and Jens.
“What?”
She nodded, her brows creased in thought. “You’re skilled with wireless radios. That’s something that’s already in high demand, and if Hitler succeeds in defeating the French army, it will be in even higher demand.”
“You mean come and work for the British government?” Jens stared at her. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I think I am.” She nodded. “In fact, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. You would be perfect for MI6. Not only do you speak Dutch and French, but you’re a Belgian native. You can help train agents to navigate through Belgium easily, and you can assist with wireless radios.”
“How do you know I’ll be allowed into England?” he asked. “And even if I do come back with you, how do you know your MI6 will give me a job?”
“I don’t, but with my recommendation you certainly have a better chance than you would without it.”
“I don’t know,” he said doubtfully.
“Jens, I really think it’s your best option right now,” she said gently. “As you say, you can’t go home. And if the Nazis overrun Paris, you can’t stay here. At least if you come with me, you have a chance to do something to continue the fight.”
He looked at her for a long moment, his lips drawn together in a pensive frown. Finally, he exhaled, blowing out his cheeks.
“I suppose you’re right,” he said. “At least from England I can do more to help my country than I can here.”
“Precisely.”
“But how will we get there? How were you planning to get home?”
“I was planning on taking a boat from Calais. I really need to contact London to let them know I’ve arrived in Paris. They may have a different route for me to take.”
“I can send a message with the radio,” he offered. “Is that who I sent the message to the other morning?”
She smiled sheepishly. “Yes.”
Jens nodded and stood up, stretching. “Very well. Let me use the bathroom and wash, and then I’ll get the radio and send a message. Write out what you want me to send.”
He walked out of the living room and Evelyn stood up, going over to the writing desk near the window. She would write out a message to Bill, telling him she was Paris and ready to come home, and she would say that she was bringing a Belgian radio operator with her. He would know the best way to get them back quickly.
As she sat down at the desk and picked up a pen, Evelyn felt a surge of relieved excitement go through her. She had made it out of Brussels in the midst of yet another invasion, and made it out of Marle in the midst of pursuit by the dreaded Gestapo. A trip to meet with Shustov had turned into a mad dash across Europe, but now she was in her beloved Paris, and she was safe.
And soon she would be going home.
