CHARLOTTE
“I shouldn’t be telling you this.” She glares at Jean-Luc, seated next to me on the couch. “If it gets out, many lives could be in danger.”
“I understand.” Jean-Luc swallows.
Maman looks at him through narrowed eyes. “Yes, but will you be strong enough to keep your mouth shut if they catch you?”
“I’d rather die than put someone else in danger.” He leans forward, his hands on his knees.
“Fine, brave words.” She pauses. “But no one knows what they’d do till it happens.” She turns to look at me. “I’ll have to take the risk. I can’t see any other way.”
Jean-Luc nods.
“I have an uncle, called Albert. He lives in Ciboure, a village next to Saint-Jean-Luc-de-Luz.” She stops a minute, rubbing the back of her neck. “He’s active down there. He’s helped people escape over the Pyrénées; British pilots getting back to England, Jews.”
Has Maman been helping people escape? I stare at her, wondering who she really is. My eyes fill with tears of shame. I blink them away, looking at her in a new light.
“He might be able to help you,” she continues. “I’ll tell you his address and you’ll have to remember it. Never write it down anywhere.” Her eyes bore into Jean-Luc’s. “Are you ready?”
He nods.
Maman picks the baby up from the armchair, hesitating for a second as though she doesn’t quite know what to do with it. Then, sighing heavily, she sits down, holding it on her lap. “Twenty-four Avenue de l’Océan—”
“Maman,” I interrupt. “Have you helped people before? Have you given them this address?”
She looks at me for a second before answering. “Yes, I have.”
“But… but… Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Charlotte!” Her voice is harsh. “You should know these aren’t things one can discuss.”
I’m the ignorant child again, kept in the dark. Half of me is mad at her, while the other half is filled with grudging admiration. I just wish I’d known. It would have changed everything.
“Does… does Papa know?”
“This is not the time to be discussing it, Charlotte. We need to act quickly.”
Now I am the selfish child, so caught up in my own world I can’t see into anyone else’s.
She turns back to Jean-Luc. “It will be dangerous. Very dangerous. You don’t speak German, I assume?”
“No.”
“You’ll have to get out of that uniform then. I can give you a fake ID. We can cut your hair, your eyebrows to fit the photo. I’ve done it before. And I can give you money.” She pauses. “You’ll have to take the baby with you. No one else will take him on, and going into hiding with him would be too risky.” She looks down at the infant lying peacefully on her lap. “I’m not even sure he’ll survive.”
I know what she’s thinking, but I don’t say anything.
“You’ll have to take the train to Bayonne,” she continues. “And from there go by foot to Ciboure. It’s about twenty kilometers. The train will be the hardest part, but as long as you talk to no one—”
“But won’t people think it strange for a man to be traveling alone with a baby?” I interrupt again. “He’ll be questioned, and how will he get milk?” The terrible thought crosses my mind that she just wants to get rid of him. I don’t know her anymore; I don’t know what she might be capable of.
“We can give him enough expressed milk for two days, by which time he should be in the safe house.” She looks over at Jean-Luc again. “You’ll have to have minimal contact with anyone.”
“But Maman.” I stare at her. “This is crazy! Someone will stop him. I know they will.”
“Charlotte,” Jean-Luc says softly, touching my hand. “It will be all right. I’ll have the fake ID.”
“No!” I stand up, an idea rushing through my head. I step toward Maman, then lean down and lift the baby from her lap, holding him up against me. He’s so small, so light. I look over the top of his head at Maman and speak calmly, quietly—afraid of waking him. “A couple traveling with a baby will arouse much less suspicion than a man alone with one.”
A flash of light crosses her eyes, and I know she knows I’m right.
“No, Charlotte! No!” The light turns to fierce anger.
Jean-Luc stands up too. “You’re so brave,” he whispers in my ear, putting his arm around my shoulder. Then he turns to Maman. “I’ll do everything I can to keep her safe.”
“Safe?” Maman hisses. “Are you mad? You can’t even keep yourself safe!”
Gently he takes the baby from me, then he looks at Maman. His voice is even and calm, as though he’s trying to coax a wild animal. “I know you don’t want to lose your daughter. And it will be dangerous. But I swear I’ll protect her and this child with my life.”
“She’s not going anywhere!” Maman’s eyes dart from him to me.
I take a step nearer to her. “Maman, please. Think about it. We can pretend to be secret lovers, escaping to get married because we have this illegitimate child—”
“No!” She reaches out, gripping my shoulder. “Anything could happen. We might never see you again!” She swallows. “You can’t go!”
I stare at her, realizing that she does love me. Of course she does! My heart fills with regret and shame. Why didn’t I see it before?
But I can’t stay. An urge burns through me to act now, to do something. “You have to let me do this. Please, Maman.”
“You don’t understand the dangers. You have no idea…” Her voice trembles, then fades out, as though she knows she’s already lost me.
“I understand the risk. And I still want to do it. I need to do it.”