Lana's War

by Anita Abriel

  “My condolences to your sister.” Captain Von Buren nodded. “If the papers are in your room we’re happy to wait while you retrieve them.”

  Guy stood up, and Lana wondered where he was going. She was afraid of being alone with the officers and Odette. Then Guy walked around the table and stopped in front of her.

  “Of course, gentlemen. But first I would be honored if you witness my proposal.” He dropped to his knee and took out a velvet box from his pocket. “You didn’t just interrupt our dinner. I was about to ask the countess to marry me.”

  Guy snapped open the box and displayed a yellow diamond ring.

  Lana put her hand to her mouth and gasped. What was Guy doing? They’d known each other for only a month, and she was still grieving for Frederic.

  “Lana, I have loved you since the moment we met, and I want to spend my life making you happy,” Guy continued as if they were alone. “Will you marry me?”

  Lana tried to answer but her throat closed up.

  She couldn’t possibly have an answer. There was so much she still didn’t know about Guy. Did he miss Marie the way she missed Frederic? They had never talked about life after the war. Would he go back to Switzerland?

  Then Odette clapped, and she remembered why they were in Monte Carlo. It didn’t matter what Guy’s intentions were. The important thing was to distract the Gestapo officers from demanding Odette’s papers.

  “Of course I’ll marry you.” She held out her hand so Guy could slip the ring on her finger. Then she kissed him for so long the officers shifted uncomfortably.

  “I asked the maître d’ to bring a bottle of Château Lafite Rothschild from the wine cellar.” Guy rose and turned to Captain Von Buren. “It’s Hitler’s favorite champagne. He took a case back to Berlin after his visit to Paris last summer. Would you join us in celebrating?”

  * * *

  Lana and Guy sat in the living room of their suite. Odette was asleep in the adjoining room, and the maid had drawn the curtains.

  “I don’t know about you, but I could use another drink after that.” Guy filled a glass with Scotch. He had removed his tie and his cuff links lay on the coffee table.

  “No, thank you.” She shook her head. “I was so nervous, I drank too much champagne and I have a headache. You were very brave, you saved Odette’s life.”

  Lana slipped the diamond ring off her finger and placed it in the jewelry box.

  “Here.” She handed it to him. “You were quite convincing. Even Odette believes we’re engaged.”

  Guy looked up, but he didn’t take the box. He sat back against the cushions and sipped his drink.

  “You think I asked you to marry me to fool the Gestapo?”

  “Why else would you have given me the ring?” she asked.

  Guy took the box and turned it over in his hands. “Maybe I was wrong.”

  “Wrong about what? I did wonder why you had a diamond ring in your pocket, but you’re always prepared for anything.” She pondered. “Perhaps it isn’t real, though it’s certainly lovely.”

  “Of course it’s real!” Guy’s cheeks burned. “It’s a two-carat yellow diamond that cost three hundred thousand francs. I’ve been carrying it around for days.” He stopped and placed his glass on the table. “Waiting for the perfect moment to propose to you.”

  Lana’s heart thudded. She was afraid to move. She raised her eyes to meet his, and there was a lump in her throat.

  “You were really asking me to marry you?”

  “I’ll admit it wasn’t the most romantic setting.” He laughed lightly. “I was planning to do it over dessert or after dinner at the Bar Américain. But it stopped those bastards from making me get Odette’s papers. By the time they helped us finish off the bottle of champagne, they forgot all about it.”

  “We never talk about the future.” Her forehead puckered. “Why would you propose?”

  “Why does any man propose?” He shrugged. “Because I love you.”

  The three words touched her like a pinprick when she was putting on a brooch.

  “But it’s so soon.” She gulped. “We haven’t known each other long.”

  She couldn’t help but think about Frederic. He had been dead for only five months. It was too early to hear a proposal from another man. And yet she loved Guy.

  “I told you earlier that I’m falling in love with you,” Guy continued. “You shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “Falling in love is different. It’s heady and romantic and makes your heart beat faster. Marriage is…”

  “Permanent?” Guy finished her sentence.

  “Yes,” she whispered, afraid to break the spell.

  “Well that’s a good thing.” He grunted.

  She waved at the box. “I still don’t understand, when did you decide to buy the ring?”

  Guy picked up his glass and ran his fingers over the rim.

  “It was after the first escape. You arrived back at the villa, and you looked so strong and beautiful. Like a modern-day Joan of Arc.”

  “Joan of Arc?” Lana asked curiously.

  “From the moment you arrived on the Riviera, you never hesitated to put yourself in danger. You flirted with Alois Brunner and got close to Captain Von Harmon without worrying about being discovered. But you rushed inside after thinking I’d been shot at the dock and you were so disturbed. You cared about my safety more than your own.” He looked at Lana, and his eyes had changed from their usual clear green to a warm hazel. “That’s when I knew I loved you.”

  For a moment Lana remembered when Frederic first said “I love you.” So much had happened since then. But refusing Guy wouldn’t bring Frederic back. She was young, and her whole life was ahead of her.

  “The saleswoman at Van Cleef and Arpels tried to convince me to buy something even more extravagant with matching earrings, but that didn’t seem right. You aren’t the kind of woman I want to give flashy jewelry; you are the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

  “I’ve never seen a more beautiful ring,” Lana breathed.

  Guy took it out of the box and slipped it on Lana’s finger. He put his arms around her, and their lips met. His hands traveled down her back, and she leaned into his touch.

  She wanted to say they must be crazy; there were still so many Jews to save on the Riviera. And what about Odette? If they couldn’t get her to Italy, how would they keep her safe?

  But she could barely think. All she wanted was for Guy’s hands to press against her skin and for his mouth to travel from her neck to her breasts.

  Guy led her to the bedroom and unzipped her dress. He unsnapped the buttons of his shirt and laid it on a chair.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he said hoarsely.

  She lay on the bedspread and waited for him to join her. He pulled off his socks and turned to her.

  “You didn’t say yes,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” She sat up against the headboard.

  “You said yes in front of the Gestapo officers when you thought it was a ruse.” He pulled off the other sock. “You’re wearing the engagement ring, but you didn’t actually agree to marry me.”

  Lana started laughing. She laughed until the laughter turned to tears and then she couldn’t stop crying. She cried for Frederic and for the life they would have had. Five months ago she was hurrying to tell him the news about the baby. She would always miss Frederic, but that couldn’t stop her from loving Guy. She cried for Esther Cohen, and for Sylvie and Jacob, and for Giselle and Hans. She cried for Guy’s wife and daughter and all the Jews who would never know happiness like she felt at that moment.

  “Yes.” She wiped her eyes and pulled him on top of her. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Nice, January 1944

  The afternoon of Brunner’s party at the Hôtel Excelsior, Lana sat in the living room trying to concentrate on a book.

  The first few days after they returned from the Hôtel de Paris had been
magical. Guy’s engagement ring twinkled on her finger, and everything seemed brighter. Then the war intruded again as the newspapers carried frightening headlines: Count Ciano, Mussolini’s son-in-law, was shot by a firing squad for voting to oust Mussolini from office; twenty-two civilians were murdered in Lyon in retaliation for the assassination of two Germans soldiers.

  Her mother’s reports from Paris offered little relief. Would the paintings by the great masters ever hang on the walls of the Louvre again? Would the store shelves be full?

  Even life on the Riviera grew harder. There was no wheat, and bread was hard to find. Barbed wire fences went up on the boulevards. It became hard to see the ocean. Lana heard rumors that the beaches were scattered with mines in case any Allied boats came ashore. The outdoor markets were deserted and some of the food shops in Old Town were closed. She found herself thinking nostalgically of when she arrived in Nice and went to buy a sandwich at the kiosk while Pierre watched her suitcase.

  They moved Odette into a bedroom and gave Giselle the explanation that she was Guy’s niece. But Lana couldn’t help but worry. Guy had obtained false papers for Odette, but what if they were questioned by the Gestapo? Every time a car drove by, a chill ran down her spine.

  A bright spot was Pierre’s visits to the villa. Pierre taught Odette how to play cards. They sang Sylvie’s favorite songs. Odette and Pierre prepared omelets, and they all ate at the dining room table. At night after Odette went to sleep, Guy and Lana and Pierre plotted the next mission.

  It had been Guy’s idea to search Brunner’s hotel room during the New Year’s party. It was the perfect opportunity to look for information about upcoming raids. Lana was terrified: if Brunner went up to his room and discovered them, they’d be shot. But Guy kissed her and said Brunner wouldn’t think of leaving his own party. If Brunner asked Lana where Guy was, she would find a way to distract him.

  Lana answered a knock at the door. Giselle stood outside. Her hair was wrapped in a scarf, and she carried a flat case.

  “Giselle, please come in.” Lana greeted her.

  Giselle followed her into the living room. She looked more relaxed than she had in weeks. Her face was carefully made-up and she wore perfume.

  “You look lovely,” Lana commented. “Are you going out?”

  “I decided if I mope around the villa I’ll turn into one of those spinsters in Paris who look old when they’re thirty. Every morning I do my exercises and put on powder and lipstick.” Giselle smiled.

  “You always look beautiful,” Lana said.

  “You asked to borrow a necklace for the party,” Giselle said, and handed Lana the case. “I found just the thing. It was sitting in my drawer, and I thought someone should wear it.”

  Lana opened it and took out a diamond pendant and matching diamond earrings.

  “These are stunning,” Lana gushed. “But I didn’t mean something so extravagant. What if I lose them?”

  “I’m sure you’ll be careful. It would make me happy for them to be admired,” Giselle said thoughtfully. “Armand gave them to me.”

  Lana recalled that Armand was Giselle’s lover in Paris.

  “They were the closest things he gave me to a diamond engagement ring, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell them,” Giselle explained. She glanced at Lana’s diamond ring and sighed. “I’m glad everything worked out for you and Guy. I had no idea Guy had a niece, it must be nice to have her staying with you. You’re going to be so happy.”

  Lana glanced down at the case so Giselle couldn’t see her expression. She hated to lie to her friend. But telling the truth about Odette and their work in the Resistance was too dangerous for all of them.

  “I am happy.” She nodded. “But sometimes I wonder if the war will ever end. Guy and I want to get married in Paris, I can’t imagine not having my mother and Jacques there. But we can’t go back to Paris while it’s occupied by the Germans. We live in limbo.”

  “At least you and Guy have each other,” Giselle reflected, and a secret smile crossed her face. “Being in love during wartime can be romantic. There’s a sense of urgency that makes people act on their feelings in a way they wouldn’t during peacetime.”

  “What are you saying?” Lana asked curiously.

  “I met someone,” Giselle confided. “His name is Philippe. He’s from Paris, and he moved to the Riviera a few years ago. He owns an art gallery in Antibes. I told him I was an artist and he asked to see my work. We ended up sitting in his back room and talking for hours.”

  “I’m so pleased.” Lana squeezed her hand.

  “It’s too early, but just thinking about Philippe makes me happy,” Giselle mused. “I thought I was no longer interested in men, but love is the best cure. It’s healthier than cigarettes, and it doesn’t give you a hangover like too many martinis.”

  “You’re right, love is the best thing in the world,” Lana said, her mind drifting to the danger Guy was putting himself in that night. “But when you find it, how can you stop worrying it will be taken away?”

  * * *

  Lana saw Giselle out and went upstairs to get dressed. She stood in front of the mirror and heard footsteps in the hallway. Guy appeared behind her. His fingers caressed her back, and she shivered.

  “Let me help you zip that up,” he offered, kissing her neck.

  “It’s already zipped.” She laughed, goose bumps forming on her skin.

  “Then I’ll unzip it and zip it again,” he said. “I can’t miss the opportunity of admiring my fiancée’s naked back.”

  “You’ll get the opportunity later. After the party is over and we’ve safely returned to the villa.” Her voice wavered. “I wish you wouldn't go through with this. What if you and Pierre are caught?”

  “We’ve gone over the plan a dozen times,” Guy assured her. “You’ll join Brunner for a glass of champagne. Then you’ll ask him to dance, and I’ll meet Pierre and slip up to Brunner’s room. I’ll be back before the dancing is over.”

  They decided that Pierre would wait in the hotel lobby. Lana couldn’t help but worry. What if someone noticed him? The concierge might become suspicious.

  “Does it have to be tonight? There will be other parties and nights at the casino,” Lana urged. “Brunner and his men will let something slip about the next raid.”

  Guy’s forehead knotted together, and his hands dropped to his sides.

  “Hitler is getting anxious. The Russians invaded Poland two weeks ago and sent the German army into retreat. And there’s a rumor that the Allies are getting ready to invade France. Hitler isn’t going to give up without a fight. I received communication from Henri,” Guy said pensively. “The Gestapo operations in Nice are to be escalated.”

  “Escalated?” Lana repeated.

  “Eichmann wants all the Jews in Nice to be deported by the spring.”

  “How would that be possible? They’d be sending Jews to the train station every week.”

  “That’s why we have to act now.” Guy clenched his jaw. “Before Brunner sentences every Jew on the Riviera to death.”

  Guy put his arms around her and kissed her.

  “Nothing can happen to me. There’s still so much more to accomplish.”

  Guy went to take a bath, and Lana finished getting ready. Giselle’s diamond pendant glittered against her neck, and she spritzed her décolletage with perfume. Guy had been successful in every mission so far; why should tonight be different? But she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. She had learned from the war: just because Guy had so much to live for didn’t mean he would stay alive.

  * * *

  The ballroom of the Hôtel Excelsior was decorated with gold and silver balloons. There was a dessert station and a band played songs by Charles Trenet and Tino Rossi. Waiters in tuxedos passed around glasses of champagne, and guests milled around the dance floor.

  The evening had gone perfectly. Brunner greeted them warmly. Guy made pleasant small talk, and Lana flirted with Brunner lightly. Cocktails were
followed by a sit-down dinner of coq au vin and round potatoes. Lana wondered how Brunner could afford it. She nibbled the sorbet that was served between courses and tried to stop her heart from racing. All she could think about was Guy slipping up to Brunner’s room.

  The dancing had begun, and Lana searched the ballroom for Brunner.

  “There you are,” a male voice announced. Charles Langford approached her. She hadn’t seen Charles since the day he came to the villa and revealed that he too was involved in the Resistance.

  “Charles!” she exclaimed, and kissed him on the cheek. “This is a surprise, I didn’t know you were invited.”

  “I wasn’t going to come, I haven’t felt like going out.” He cradled his champagne flute. “But I decided it wouldn’t hurt to be around people enjoying themselves. News about the war gets worse every day. I almost threw my radio out the window, but I didn’t want to crush the flowers.”

  Lana wondered what Charles was doing there. But she couldn’t ask him. Their Resistance work put them both in danger.

  “Guy and I felt the same way,” she agreed. “Since your Christmas party, there haven’t been any social events. Everyone is so gloomy; it’s almost like being back in Paris.”

  “Just seeing you makes attending the party worthwhile.” He took in Lana’s black sheath with the see-through sleeves and white cuffs. “You look wonderful tonight.”

  “Thank you. It’s one of my favorite dresses.”

  “It’s not just the dress, your eyes are sparkling.” He waved at her hand. “I take it congratulations are in order.”

  Lana glanced at the engagement ring and let out a little laugh.

  “Guy proposed at Christmas.” She nodded. “We’re very happy.”

  “And all this time, you insisted you were on the Riviera to have fun.” His eyes met Lana’s. “I always felt you were deeper than that.”

  Lana wondered what he was trying to say. Her cheeks colored as she tried to think of a reply.

  “You were right when you said everyone leaves a bit of their hearts on the Riviera,” she answered finally. “I’m no exception.”