Lana's War

by Anita Abriel

  “That’s what you say when you’re trying to make an impression on a pretty girl on a train,” Charles reflected. “By the time you work up the courage to say what you really mean, it’s too late.”

  Lana gulped and brought her champagne flute to her lips.

  “You don’t seem to be afraid of anything,” she said playfully. “I can’t imagine you lacking courage to talk to a woman.”

  “Whatever happens, I’ll always be there for you, Lana.” Charles touched her arm. “All you have to do is ask.”

  Charles drifted off, and Lana saw Alois Brunner across the dance floor.

  “Captain Brunner.” She joined him. “I want to compliment you on a wonderful party. Dinner was delicious and the band is playing my favorite songs.”

  “I’ve been waiting all night to dance with you,” Captain Brunner replied. His eyes seemed even blacker than usual, and his hair was slick with oil. “May I say you’ve outdone yourself, Countess Antanova? You’ve never looked so lovely.”

  Lana blushed appropriately.

  “I’m sure you say that to all the women here,” she replied. She waved at the gold tablecloths and floral centerpieces. “You have exquisite taste.”

  “The hotel staff has been very accommodating,” Brunner agreed. He paused and looked at her intently. “I’m afraid you haven’t been honest with me. Your relationship with Guy isn’t what you described.”

  Lana froze. What did Brunner mean? She and Guy had been affectionate with each other all night.

  “I don’t understand,” she answered carefully. “Guy and I are very close.”

  “It’s more than that.” He pointed to her diamond ring. “It seems you are engaged.”

  Relief flooded through her and she tipped her head.

  “You don’t miss anything,” she said coquettishly. “How did you know?”

  “Captain Von Buren told me. He ran into you at the Hôtel de Paris. It was the most intimate family tableau.” He raised his eyebrows. “I had no idea Guy had a niece.”

  “She’s staying with us.” Lana nodded.

  “What did you say her name was?” Brunner asked innocently.

  “I didn’t,” Lana answered. She looked up at Brunner, and her eyes were clear. “It’s Odette.”

  “What a pretty name. It must be French. I’ve never heard it in Austria or Germany,” he said.

  Lana knew that the next words out of her mouth could seal Odette’s fate and put her and Guy and Pierre in prison. She shrugged her shoulders and replied. “You’re correct. It’s a common French-language name. Odette is from Geneva, in the French-speaking part of Switzerland.”

  Lana and Brunner danced, and the party slowly wound down. She kept glancing at the entrance, waiting for Guy to return. Finally, most of the guests had left, and Lana entered the lobby.

  “Countess Antanova.” Pierre approached her. He looked around to see if anyone was listening. “Monsieur Pascal was feeling ill and had to leave. He asked me to drive you to Cap Ferrat in my taxi.”

  “Why didn’t he come and tell me?” she asked, trying to stay calm. That wasn’t like Guy. Surely he would have told her himself before he left.

  “It came on suddenly. He didn’t want to disturb the other guests,” Pierre offered.

  The valet opened the hotel doors, and Lana followed Pierre to the taxi. She waited until they drove away and then she leaned forward.

  “When did Guy leave?” she asked frantically. “Where was he going?”

  “I didn’t see him. I only said that in case anyone overheard us.” Pierre darted through the traffic of Old Town. “He never showed up in the lobby.”

  “What do you mean he didn’t show up?”

  “I waited for ages. I even went up to Brunner’s floor, but he wasn’t there.”

  “I saw Guy leave the ballroom,” Lana said desperately. “Where else would he have gone?”

  “Maybe there was an emergency, and he was called away,” Pierre suggested.

  “Yes, of course.” Lana leaned back in the seat. Perhaps something had happened to the boat. German soldiers might have discovered it at the dock and grown suspicious. He would be waiting for her in Cap Ferrat.

  Pierre pulled up in front of the villa. The windows were dark, and Guy’s car wasn’t in the driveway.

  “Would you like me to come in?” Pierre asked.

  Lana shook her head.

  “Go home and rest,” she said gently. “It’s been a long night.”

  The living room was empty, and the light in Guy’s study was off. She climbed the stairs and peered into Odette’s bedroom. Odette was asleep, a pile of books on the bedspread.

  Perhaps Guy had arrived earlier and was now fast asleep. She opened his door, but the bed was untouched. His robe hung in the bathroom next to his razor and shaving cream.

  She entered her bedroom and sat at the dressing table. Giselle’s diamond pendant felt heavy around her neck, and she took it off. The feeling of dread that had been hovering over her all night squeezed her chest.

  When Frederic died and she lost the baby she thought she would never be happy again. Then she arrived in Nice and fell in love with Guy. This evening she told Charles she left a little part of her heart on the Riviera, but that was a lie. She had given her whole heart to Guy, and if anything had happened to him, she didn’t know what she would do.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Nice, January 1944

  Guy hadn’t returned. Not that night, not that week, and not the next. Every day Lana drove into Nice to see if Pierre had any news. She read the newspaper and kept the radio on all day, but there was no mention of captured Resistance fighters. She’d even managed to call Henri, having left a message with the sisters at the convent, but he had nothing to report.

  For the first week, Odette asked daily when Guy was coming back, but then she stopped. Odette chattered on about everything else: the letters she wrote to Bernadette and the eggs from Giselle’s chickens, but Lana knew what was going through Odette’s mind. None of the adults who left ever came back.

  At night, when Odette was asleep, she moved from Guy’s study to his bedroom, searching for some clue of where he had gone: a train ticket or a receipt in a coat pocket. But his desk held only the usual bills and his pockets were empty.

  On Thursday a car pulled into the driveway, and Lana ran to the front door. Charles stepped out of a yellow Citroën and bounded up the steps.

  “Charles?” She opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

  “Can I come in?” he asked.

  She led him to the living room, where he took off his hat and placed it on the coffee table.

  “Guy has been gone since the night at the Hôtel Excelsior,” Charles began.

  Lana’s heart beat quickly. Perhaps Charles had some information about Guy. She didn’t want to show how worried she was. She liked Charles very much, but Guy’s suspicions had taken root in her mind; she still didn’t know if she could trust him completely.

  “He had business to take care of.” She sat on the couch in the living room.

  Charles continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’ve inquired all over France and no one has seen him.” He sat opposite her. “But there’s more. Alois Brunner isn’t at the Hôtel Excelsior anymore.”

  Lana looked up sharply.

  “What do you mean Brunner isn’t at the hotel?” she asked.

  Brunner hadn’t said anything at the party about going away. Something must have happened. And it might involve Guy.

  “Brunner vacated his rooms; he’s gone back to Berlin. Eichmann gave the order himself.”

  Lana gripped the edge of the couch to steady herself. Eichmann wanted all the Jews to be deported by the end of April. Something drastic must have happened for him to send Brunner away. She could only guess Eichmann’s command had something to do with Guy’s disappearance.

  Lana remembered Guy saying he wasn’t going to leave the Riviera until he or Alois Brunner was dead. Guy went where Brun
ner went.

  “Guy will show up,” she said, trying to sound confident.

  “What if he doesn’t?” Charles rejoined. “Brunner is gone, but Nice is still crawling with Gestapo officers. It’s not safe here for you and Odette. If Guy is in trouble, you could be too.” He paused and looked at Lana. “Pierre told me about Odette.”

  Lana winced. Pierre shouldn’t have discussed Odette without talking to Lana first.

  “What did he tell you?” she asked.

  “That she lost her parents and that she’s quite attached to you.”

  “I feel the same way about Odette.” Lana nodded. “She’s the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.”

  “Lana, you have to listen to me.” Charles picked up his hat and fiddled with the brim. “Hitler is feeling threatened by the Russians and the Allies, and it’s only making things worse. Thousands of women and children are being sent to death camps in Austria and Germany, and it’s not just Jews. It’s members of the Resistance too. Come with me to England, I’ll keep you and Odette safe.”

  “You’re going back to England?” she asked in surprise. “I thought it wasn’t safe to cross the channel.”

  “I wasn’t planning to, but with the Allies approaching, I’m afraid of what the Germans will do to foreigners.” He put down his hat. “I have my own house in the countryside. In Sussex, near my parents. You and Odette can live with me.”

  “Live with you!” she exclaimed.

  “It’s the best thing for everyone,” he offered. “Odette will have a good home, and I’ll take care of you.” He looked at Lana, and there was a question in his eyes. “After the war we could get a place in London too.”

  Was Charles implying that they would be a couple? He knew she was engaged to Guy.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Lana interjected. “You need a wife and family. How will you find one if we’re living with you?”

  Charles brought his hand up to Lana’s cheek.

  “I don’t have to. I want to. There’s no one I’d rather be with than you,” he said quietly. “Surely you realize I’ve been in love with you since I saw you on the train. You were reading Anna Karenina and all I could think was Tolstoy never created a heroine as lovely as you.”

  Lana knew Charles was fond of her. But could he be in love? She wondered if it was her fault for allowing them to get close. Charles was a good person, and she had needed a friend.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she replied awkwardly.

  “I don’t expect you to share my feelings now, but maybe they’ll grow over time.” He rubbed his chin. “I’ll do my best to make you and Odette happy.”

  How could she go and live with Charles when she was in love with Guy? But Charles was right. Odette couldn’t stay in the villa forever. And nowhere they went in France would be safe.

  “It’s a lot to take in.” She stood up. “Can I give you my answer tomorrow?”

  Charles rose and picked up his hat from the table.

  “Of course. I’ll come back in the morning.”

  Relief pulsed through her.

  “Charles, thank you for everything.” She walked him to the door. “You’ve been a very good friend.”

  Lana went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She yearned to call her mother and ask for advice. But Tatiana didn’t know anything about Odette, and she couldn’t risk explaining over the phone.

  Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Odette appeared in the kitchen.

  Lana wondered whether Odette had heard their conversation.

  “I didn’t hear you come downstairs,” Lana said, taking the kettle off the stove.

  “I saw a car leave, I wondered who it was,” Odette said. She put her book on the counter and climbed on a chair.

  Lana poured tea into her cup. “It was Charles, a good friend.”

  “Was it about Guy?” Odette’s eyes brightened. “Did he say when he’s coming back?”

  Lana wondered whether she should tell Odette Charles’s news. In a few months, Odette would turn thirteen. She deserved the truth.

  “No one knows where Guy is,” Lana admitted. “Charles made a proposition. He’d like us to go with him to England.”

  “Why would he invite me?” Odette questioned. “I’ve never met him.”

  “Charles is very kind. He has a house in the English countryside. You could go to school,” Lana said thoughtfully. “You wanted to go to England, but you were afraid to go alone. Now I would go with you.”

  Odette’s brow furrowed.

  “Things are different now.” Odette sat on the stool. “You’re engaged to Guy. We’re almost a family.”

  “I know that, but Guy has been gone for two weeks. He might not come back. It isn’t safe here. And we can’t go to Paris. It’s too dangerous while it’s under German occupation. Someone might question your papers and discover that you’re Jewish.” Lana hesitated. “Charles would give us a home and take care of us. It would be a good life.”

  Odette was quiet, and Lana was afraid she had said too much.

  “I remember when I was nine, I stood outside my parents’ room and heard my mother sobbing,” Odette said meditatively. “It was just after the Italians occupied the Riviera, and no one knew what was going to happen.

  “My mother wasn’t crying because she was afraid of the Italian soldiers. She was crying because my father found someone who would take us to Switzerland.”

  “Why didn’t you go?” Lana asked, surprised.

  “We didn’t have enough money for all of us. My father would have had to stay behind until he could afford to join us,” Odette continued.

  “My mother said she’d rather die than go without him,” Odette finished. “My father tried to convince her, but she wouldn’t change her mind. If you love Guy, you can’t desert him.”

  “This is different. Guy isn’t here; we haven’t heard from him, and we don’t know if we’ll ever see him again.”

  “Love is always the same,” Odette said, and Lana thought she looked wise beyond her years. “Remember when you said that when you’re a child things seem like they will last forever? What if Guy returns after the war and we’re living with Charles in England? He’ll think you don’t care about him anymore. And our lives would become so different. You might forget Guy and miss out on the great love of your life. Before the Germans arrived, my father used to say he didn’t envy anyone on the Riviera: not the people who owned the villas in the hills above Nice or the elegant couples strolling on the promenade. He had everything he dreamed of: a beautiful wife and a lovely daughter and a job at Hôtel Negresco doing what he loved. I have similar dreams: to have a satisfying career and a wonderful husband and happy, noisy children,” she said, and her eyes were bright. “Every Sunday, I’ll look around the table at the faces I love and be so grateful. You have to marry for love; it’s the most important thing of all.”

  Once in their conversations, Lana told Sylvie that children have to believe anything is possible and Sylvie answered that there were no more miracles. Sylvie was wrong; miracles were simply dreams that came true.

  Lana pulled Odette close. Perhaps Lana hadn’t saved all the Jewish children in Nice. But if she had given Odette a reason to dream, wasn’t that something? If only Sylvie were alive to see how brave Odette had become.

  “We won’t go to England with Charles,” she said. “We’ll figure out something else.”

  Odette looked up at Lana and grinned.

  “You can tell Charles it’s my fault we don’t go to England. I haven’t made much progress with the English dictionary, and my English is terrible.”

  * * *

  Odette went upstairs, and Lana puttered around the kitchen, wondering if she was being foolish. They couldn’t stay at the villa. Guy’s disappearance could have alerted the Gestapo to something amiss. But where could they go that would be safe?

  There was a knock at the door, and Lana peered out the window. Giselle stood outside, holding a shopping bag.

 
“Giselle, come in.” Lana opened the door. “I was having a cup of tea, would you like one?”

  “Yes, please.” Giselle followed her into the kitchen. She opened the bag and took out a basket of eggs and some fruit. “I’m going on a short trip and thought you’d like these.”

  “Another trip?” Lana frowned. “Is it to do with Hans?”

  “It’s nothing like that. I’m going with Philippe to look at a gallery he might buy,” Giselle said, and there was a sparkle in her eye. “I spent the whole day choosing what negligee to bring. It’s been so long since I slept with a man. I couldn’t decide what to wear in bed.”

  “I’m glad for you.” Lana smiled and handed her a cup. “You’ll have a wonderful time.”

  “Is there any news of Guy?” Giselle asked, sipping her tea.

  “Nothing.” Lana shook her head. “I’m afraid he isn’t coming back.”

  “You can’t know that,” Giselle insisted. “He’ll appear any moment with an explanation. He had to go to Switzerland on business and got stuck at the border.”

  Lana bit her tongue. In the past two weeks she had longed to tell Giselle the truth about Odette and their work in the Resistance. But now more than ever, it would be too risky.

  “What if he got cold feet and doesn’t want to get married?” Lana fretted.

  “Men need women more than we think,” Giselle said meditatively. “I’ve seen the change in Guy since you arrived. He’s never looked so happy.”

  They drank their tea, and Giselle got up to leave.

  “Don’t worry about Guy,” she said when she stood at the door. “War might take away many things but it has no hold on love. If it did, the human race would have died out long ago.”

  * * *

  Early the next day, Lana stood by the door and waited for Charles to arrive. But instead of Charles’s Citroën pulling into the driveway, there was Pierre’s rusty Peugeot.

  Pierre jumped out of the car.

  “Pierre!” Lana greeted. Her heart beat with excitement. “What are you doing here?”