by CW Browning
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.
Epilogue
13th May, 1940
Dear Evelyn,
It’s very late, but I couldn’t sleep and so I’m writing to you. I apologize in advance for any spelling errors or phrases that don’t make sense. I can barely see straight for as tired as I am, but my mind won’t stop churning, and so here I am scribbling in bed by the light of a very dim bulb.
I received your letter yesterday, but I was a bit confused to be honest. I think you must have accidentally mailed the wrong one. I’ve noticed before that you don’t always remember to date your letters, and I think this time you might have mailed an earlier letter by mistake. You made no mention of Winston Churchill replacing Chamberlain, or of Hitler finally moving and invading Belgium, Holland and France all at the same time. I know that you must have opinions on all of the above, and can’t believe that you would have posted a letter without mentioning at least one of them. The only thing I can think is that you wrote one letter, then wrote another the following day and grabbed the wrong one. Is that what happened, love? I do hope you find the other one and send it to me. I’d love to hear your thoughts on everything that’s happened in the past few days.
In lieu of your thoughts, I’ll give you mine, shall I? I think it’s jolly marvelous th
at Churchill is our new Prime Minister. I had one of my ground crew sergeants procure a newspaper this evening and have it waiting for me when I came back from a night flight. Did you read about his maiden speech to Parliament today? He told them all he had to offer was his blood, sweat, toil and tears. I don’t know why that moved me, but it did. It seems so completely honest somehow, something that I feel has been lacking of late in Parliament. But what really stood out to me was that he was very clear about what his government’s policy will be moving forward. He said, and I’m going to quote here because I have the paper right beside me, “It is to wage war, by sea, land and air, with all our might and with all the strength that God can give us; to wage war against a monstrous tyranny, never surpassed in the dark, lamentable catalogue of human crime. That is our policy.” What a refreshing and welcome change from all the wishy-washy waffling Chamberlain gave us! Churchill leaves no doubt as to what his focus and priority is and, more importantly, he sent a loud and clear message to Herr Hitler today with those words. I couldn’t be more proud to be an Englishman today. At last, we have a leader who will fight along with us.
We need that more than ever right now. Things don’t seem to be going well over in Belgium. I’ve heard that we’re losing planes over there at an alarming rate. The Luftwaffe is faster and more experienced than us, and the CO thinks we’ll be in a real muddle if it continues. He’s concerned about the fighters, of course. If we keep sending squadrons over, and they keep getting shot down, we’ll have none left to defend England. And if the Jerries succeed in crossing the Meuse, we’ll need to defend England sooner rather than later.
I’ve heard rumors that the Luftwaffe is targeting citizens, bombing cities and towns, and even attacking the refugees that are pouring out of the cities. I hope to God that’s not true. If it is, I can’t imagine anything more horrific for the Belgian people. I feel very sorry for them, as well as for the French if our troops can’t hold the Nazis back. I have a feeling they’re in for a rather hard time of it. It must be terrifying to be there right now. I’m so very glad we’re safe, for now, within the borders of England. I pray every night that it continues, and we remain free from the horrors they’re experiencing in Europe.
My eyes are closing now, so I’ll turn out the light and try to sleep again. I’ll dream of you, and hope that you’re well.
Always yours,
FO Miles Lacey
RAF Duxford
Author’s Notes
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Other Titles by CW Browning:
Shadows of War Series
The Courier
The Oslo Affair
The Exit Series
Next Exit, Three Miles
Next Exit, Pay Toll
Next Exit, Dead Ahead
Next Exit, Quarter Mile
Next Exit, Use Caution
Next Exit, One Way
Next Exit, No Outlet
The Exit Series: Books 1-3 (The Exit Series Box Set # 1)
About the Author
CW Browning was writing before she could spell. Making up stories with her childhood best friend in the backyard in Olathe, Kansas, imagination ran wild from the very beginning. At the age of eight, she printed out her first full-length novel on a dot-matrix printer. All eighteen chapters of it. Through the years, the writing took a backseat to the mechanics of life as she explored other avenues of interest. Those mechanics, however, have a great way of underlining what genuinely lifts a spirit and makes the soul sing. After attending Rutgers University and studying History, her love for writing was rekindled. It became apparent where her heart truly lay. Picking up an old manuscript, she dusted it off and went back to what made her whole. CW still makes up stories in her backyard, but now she crafts them for her readers to enjoy. She makes her home in Southern New Jersey, where she loves to grill steak and sip red wine on the patio.
CW loves to hear from readers! She is always willing to answer questions and hear your stories. You can find her on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.
If social media isn’t your thing, she can also be reached by email at [email protected] and on her website at www.cwbrowning.com.
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Note from Author:
Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed Night Falls on Norway, please take a moment to leave an honest review. Reviews are invaluable to authors, and it would be greatly appreciated!
Copyright © 2021 by Clare Wroblewski
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Dissect Designs / www.dissectdesigns.com
Book design by Clare Wroblewski
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.
CW Browning
Visit my website at www.cwbrowning.com
First Printing: 2021