Escape by Moonlight (18 page)

‘Perhaps.’

‘Did he say when he was coming home on leave?’

‘No. I don’t think he knows.’

‘Perhaps he’ll come for Christmas. That would be lovely. Mrs Baxter is already saving the ingredients for a pudding.’

He laughed. ‘We must remember to save some for Lizzie.’

Elizabeth sat with her ear close to the speaker, listening to the bizarre messages being broadcast, as she had done every day since she had sent that letter. She had seen Andrew over the border and given him her letter because Roger had suddenly changed his mind and told her he wanted to stay in France. ‘I can do more good here,’ he had said when she protested.

‘Doing what?’

‘I can help you.’

She laughed. ‘We’ve only got half the herd we had before the war. There’s hardly enough work for my grandparents and me.’

‘But that’s not all you do, is it? The farm is only a cover.’

‘For what?’

‘Work with the Resistance.’

‘What makes you think I do that?’

‘Oh, come on, Lisabette, it’s plain you’ve got a well-organised escape route going here. There must be days when you don’t feel like climbing that mountain, when you’d rather be doing something else. Besides, in winter when there’s snow on the ground, the men will have to be taken south to Spain. I could do that, save Ma’amselle Clavier the trip.’

‘You would never make it. Your French is terrible.’

‘But my German is good. I was talking to that fellow, Hans, the other day and he didn’t comment on my accent.’

‘You were talking to Leutnant Shermann?’ She was dismayed and angry. Hans, who was stationed at the Mairie as some sort of liaison between the Vichy government and the Germans in the north, often came to the farm to buy butter, cheese and eggs. He was young and apparently guileless, but she was always careful to
treat him civilly but not to encourage him to stay longer than he needed to make his purchases. She had no idea he and Roger had met. ‘Roger, how could you? You could have had us all shot.’

‘I told him I came from Alsace Lorraine and my parents had brought me up to think of myself as German. He accepted that and told me about his family in Cologne. He’s worried about them being bombed.’

‘You’ll have to leave. I’ll take you over the pass tomorrow.’

‘No. I’m staying. I can help organise the
resistants
. They are a raggle-taggle mob with no clear direction. If they are to do any good at all, they must be properly organised and commanded.’

‘What makes you think they want you to command them?’

‘Henri and Philippe both agreed they did. They said they wished you were not involved and if I could relieve you, so much the better. They are concerned for their little sister.’

With her ear close to the mesh of the wireless speaker, she smiled at the memory of that deception and almost missed the announcement. ‘Papa and Mama will save some of Mrs Baxter’s Christmas pudding for Lizzie.’ Only when it was repeated did she realise it was for her.

‘They got it!’ she squealed, turning to her grandparents. The old man was sitting by the fire smoking a pipe containing some horrible concoction that was certainly not tobacco and her grandmother was stirring leek soup over the fire. ‘Papie, Mamie, it worked. They got my letter and they’re OK.’

The old lady crossed herself. ‘God be praised. Now,
better call that young man in for his supper. It’s a good thing we have him for the milking since you have taken to gluing yourself to the wireless set.’

Elizabeth called Roger, who had just finished scouring out the milking pans. He washed and dried his hands and joined them at the table. ‘I’m going into Annecy tomorrow,’ he said.

Elizabeth was appalled. ‘What for?’

‘To see Henri and Philippe, get things moving.’

‘And how do you propose to go?’

‘I’ll borrow Monsieur’s bicycle.’

‘You can’t go alone. You’ve got no papers. If you’re stopped …’

‘I’m a German soldier on leave. I left my papers in my room.’

‘What’s your name, then, and where is this room?’

‘My name is Leutnant Otto Bergman and I’m billeted at the Dransville Mairie.’

‘You’re mad.’

‘No more insane than you are.’

‘I’d better come with you.’

And so they set out early next morning. It was a cold, bright day. There had been a scattering of snow on the tops during the night and she knew it would soon be too late to use the pass, so how was she to get him safely away? He was becoming a liability.

Henri and Philippe didn’t agree with her when she tackled them about it. They thought he could be useful, someone who could liaise between the
resistants
and London, arrange for arms, ammunition and explosives to be dropped. They would never beat the Boche unless they were armed.

‘And how do you propose to contact London?’ she demanded with some asperity.

‘Justine can do it,’ Roger said. ‘She is in touch with them all the time.’

‘No, she isn’t. She would have said.’

‘I bet she is. You ask her.’

‘I can’t do that until she comes again and I have no idea when that will be.’

‘Then I’ll go to her,’ Roger said.

‘Without papers?’ The whole idea was ridiculous and she was inclined to treat it as a joke, wishful thinking on his part.

‘I’ll get them,’ Roger said. ‘I’ll ask Hans. He’ll do it for a consideration. He’s desperately anxious to get his parents and young sister out of Cologne.’

‘I haven’t any spare cash and neither have my grandparents.’

‘We’ll find it,’ Henri said, leaving the room and returning with a cash box which he unlocked. It was crammed with paper money. ‘We might as well spend it,’ he said. ‘It will be worthless before long, I don’t doubt.’ He handed a bundle to Roger who stuffed it into his jacket pocket, then Roger and Elizabeth took their leave and returned to Dransville the way they had come in almost total silence.

‘You’re angry with me, aren’t you?’ he said as they propped their bicycles in the shed beside the byre.

‘You don’t seem to understand the risks.’

‘Oh, yes I do. But don’t you see, we have to take risks or we can’t win? You have been taking them for over a year now, haven’t you? You must have thought they were worth taking.’

‘That’s different. I belong here, you don’t.’

‘This is not just about Dransville. It’s bigger, wider, more important than that. It’s global. The free world must win or God knows what will happen to this planet of ours.’

It was the first time he had spoken seriously about the situation they were in and it gave her a new insight into his character. Under all his brashness and light-hearted refusal to admit the risks and the danger, she sensed a vulnerable man, a man who had been hurt and would do anything to hide it. She wondered if it had been a woman. Or was it something else? She knew he would not tell her if she asked and so she accepted him as he was, courageous to the point of being foolhardy. ‘And what do you think Justine will say, when she has taken the risk to bring you here to safety and you refuse to go?’

‘She will understand.’

‘Then what?’

‘When I’ve contacted London and enlisted their help, I’ll come back here.’

‘Very well, if you must, you must.’ It was said with a heavy sigh. ‘But if Justine can’t help, then promise me you’ll leave for the border. We can use the pass for a few more days.’

‘I promise,’ he said solemnly and then laughed. ‘If Ma’amselle Clavier doesn’t know how to contact London then I’ll have to go there myself and arrange things. But I will be back, my lovely Lisabette, either way, I will be back.’

When the knock came on the door, Justine ushered Max into a cupboard among the brooms and mops and suitcases and shut the door on him. Then she carried their coffee
cups and wine glasses into the kitchen and went to answer the knock, opening the door a crack, no more.

The man on the landing was in a German captain’s uniform which made her catch her breath, but then he grinned. ‘Hallo, Justine.’

‘What in heaven’s name are you doing back here?’ She put her head out in the corridor and looked both ways. Luckily there was no one about. ‘Come in quickly. I hope you weren’t followed.’

‘No, I was very careful.’

She led the way into the sitting room. ‘Sit down. You had better have a good reason for turning up here again.’

He sat down on the sofa, though she continued to stand. ‘Oh, a very good one. I want you to contact London for me.’

‘Whatever makes you think I can do that?’

‘A hunch, that’s all. I decided to stay and help the Resistance and to do that we need supplies which London can send us.’

‘Who is “we”?’

‘Your brother Pierre, your nephews, Henri and Philippe, your niece, Lisabette. There are others, I am told.’

‘Did you make your way here alone?’

‘Yes. I’ve got papers. I was asked for them several times on the way here, but they passed muster every time.’

‘Where did you get them?’

‘A German Leutnant got them for me. I bribed him with money Henri gave me.’ He pulled them from his pocket and gave them to her.

‘My God, they’re identity documents for Hauptmann Otto Bergman.’

‘Nothing but the best,’ he said blithely. ‘I had to be a captain, a private would be liable to be ordered about.’

‘And can this German lieutenant be trusted?’

‘He is very anxious to get his family out of Cologne, so I promised him more money. That’s one of the things I want you to do. Get London to send cash. And guns. We can’t fight without weapons.’

She handed his papers back and went to let Max out of the cupboard. ‘Did you hear all that?’ she asked him.

‘Yes.’

‘Who’s he?’ Roger demanded.

‘Antoine Descourt,’ Max said.

‘Why were you hiding in the cupboard? Are you another of her escapees?’

Max looked at Justine, who gave him a slight nod. ‘You could say that,’ he said.

‘Sit down,’ Justine said, addressing Roger. ‘I’ll make some more coffee and see if I can rustle up something to eat. No doubt you are hungry.’

‘Lisabette gave me a good breakfast, but that was hours and hours ago.’

‘Lisabette?’ Max queried, careful to keep his voice neutral.

‘Yes, Justine’s niece. Do you know her?’

‘I’ve heard Justine speak of her.’

‘Lovely girl,’ Roger went on. ‘Brave too.’

‘Brave?’

‘Taking in escapees and guiding them over the pass under the noses of the Boche, but you knew that, didn’t you?’

‘No, should I?’

‘They are taken to her by Justine, just as she took me.’

Max managed a laugh. ‘Some things are best not to know.’

‘Quite. I don’t blame you for being wary, but you have nothing to fear from me.’

Justine left them, put the kettle on the stove in the kitchen and then hurried into the spare room and removed all evidence of Max’s stay, taking his clothes and toiletries into her own room, then she made up the bed afresh and went back and made some coffee and sandwiches, filling them with thin slices of sausage that were more breadcrumbs than meat. The men were still talking warily when she took the loaded tray into the sitting room.

‘You English?’ Roger asked Max.

‘French Canadian. I was part of de Gaulle’s army and was captured in North Africa. I managed to escape and found Justine. Now you tell me your story.’

Roger complied and as each appeared to believe the other, the tension in the room relaxed and they sat eating sandwiches, drinking bitter ersatz coffee and talking about the war. But when the conversation dried up, Roger returned to the reason for his visit. ‘Are you going to contact London for me?’ he asked Justine.

‘Contrary to what you believe, Roger, I have no idea how to do it, but I will try to find out. I need to be careful so it might take some time. You can stay here for the time being, but for God’s sake don’t dare put your nose out of the door.’

‘What about Antoine?’

‘Never mind about Antoine,’ she said, giving Max a warning look. ‘What he does shouldn’t concern you.’

He grinned and tapped his nose. ‘Oh, I see how the land lies. You are old friends and Monsieur Antoine Descourt is in no hurry to cross the border.’

‘I’ll go when Justine decides to take me,’ Max said stiffly.

The food consumed, Justine took Roger to the spare bedroom. ‘You slept here before,’ she said. ‘I didn’t expect you to be doing it again.’

‘I didn’t expect to either, but when I saw how brave and clever Lisabette was, I decided I must do my bit to help. She’s a marvel, isn’t she, the way she manages the farm and gets up to milk the cows after being up all night taking people to the crossing? She shouldn’t have to do that. It’s too risky.’

The enthusiastic way he spoke made her look closely at him. How sincere was he? It was difficult to tell. ‘It’s her choice,’ she said.

‘When are you going back to Dransville?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know. We live each day as it comes. Are you anxious to return?’

‘Yes, but not to escape. There’s work to do there.’

‘You’re mad and I shouldn’t encourage you, but I can’t turn you away; you’d be a liability if you were caught. I’ve got to think of a way out. You stay here in this room until I do. Is that understood?’

He gave her a mock salute. ‘Perfectly, Ma’amselle, but don’t be too long.’

‘Oh, I won’t be any longer than I can help, you can be sure of that.’ She went to the door, removed the key from the lock and fitted it back on the outside.

‘Are you locking me in?’

‘I’m afraid so. For everyone’s sake. Goodnight. Sleep well.’

She left, locked the door, put the key in her skirt pocket and went back to Max. He was sitting on the sofa staring into the flames of a meagre fire, a glass of red wine at his
elbow, deep in thought. She poured herself a glass of wine and sat beside him.

‘What are we going to do about him?’ he asked in an undertone.

‘I don’t know. What do you suggest? He’s too cocky for my liking. He thinks that German uniform will protect him.’

‘Perhaps it will. Perhaps it’s genuine. We’ve only his word that he is who he says he is. He might be playing a double game. Supposing he’s an infiltrator, supposing he decided he hadn’t learnt enough just being taken to Dransville and dreamt up this way of learning more …’ He gave a brittle laugh. ‘I’ve learnt to mistrust everyone, Justine, to look for hidden motives in everyone’s behaviour.’