Hazel paused, looking up at Rose. ‘She’s the one they whisper about? The woman they call “the fox”?’ Hazel remembered hearing about her during her training, about the Resistance member who managed to pull off explosions and escape from the scene each time as if she’d never been there at all.
Rose laughed. ‘She is. And I tell you, from what I’ve seen of her, the name suits her perfectly! She’s as cunning as a fox, and just as clever and adaptable.’
Hazel smiled to herself as she worked. So Sophia might be difficult, but she was obviously very clever, and that meant Hazel wanted to prove herself to her even more.
The following night, after Rose and Sophia left for the rendezvous, taking Samuel with them, Hazel lay awake, listening to the soft patter of rain on the roof. She hated being left behind, knowing that her friends were in such danger, and yet here she was, safe and dry. She’d been in France less than two days, and she was still on edge, still shaking. She went to hold up her hand, then put it down again, not wanting to see the reality of her nerves.
She pushed herself up on her elbows when she heard Harry moan from the other side of the room. He’d not been in any state to be moved.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked, standing and walking over to him. ‘I’m here.’
Hazel knelt beside the sofa, reaching to touch his forehead. He was clammy, and she worried that he had an infection. There was not much more they could do for him, and right now it was only the two of them in the house. Alone.
‘Water,’ he croaked.
She reached for the water she had nearby and used her other hand to help prop his head up so he could take a sip.
‘Just a little. You don’t want to flood your body with too much,’ she said, letting him take another sip before putting the glass back down and helping to ease him back. She hesitated, then pushed some hair back from his forehead. ‘How are you feeling now?’
He made a noise deep in his throat that she guessed was supposed to sound like a chuckle. ‘Like I’ve been in a plane crash.’
It was Hazel laughing now, shaking her head at him. ‘You’re obviously doing fine if you can make jokes.’ She waited, looking down at him, embarrassed that her body heated at the way he stared back at her. She hoped he couldn’t see her hot red cheeks, because she knew they would be exactly that and she was embarrassed – she wasn’t the kind of girl to go all weak-kneed over a handsome man!
‘You never did tell me why you’re here,’ he said, the huskiness of his voice slowly clearing as he spoke. ‘What are three women doing here alone? Weren’t you going to tell me?’
She smiled. ‘All you need to worry about is getting better, and the fact that you’re lucky you were found by us and not the Germans.’
‘I know how lucky I am,’ he said, before groaning as he shifted position, trying to move from his back to his side. ‘Trust me, I know.’
Hazel held out an arm for him to grasp and attempted to help him. He hissed out a breath and she winced, knowing what pain he was in.
‘Do I have any hope of getting out of France?’ he asked, looking into her eyes without breaking the gaze. ‘And don’t go sugarcoating it. I want the truth.’
She didn’t want to lie, but it was part of her job now. She’d been taught to maintain her legend to get where she needed to get and do what she needed to do, and she could see no difference here. She needed to keep him calm and not give anything away about what they were doing.
‘We’ll do everything we can to help you,’ she told him honestly. ‘I don’t know what else I can tell you, but there are some very friendly locals in the area, people who’d do anything to help someone like you.’
‘I’ve heard about the Resistance movement, we all have,’ he said, looking more comfortable, the vein that had been bulging in his forehead almost completely disappeared now. ‘Do they operate around here? Is that why you said the locals are so friendly?’
Hazel refused to react, kept her smile fixed, made sure she didn’t panic as she calmly breathed. It was good extra training for her, not letting her eyes give her away. ‘I’ve heard about them, too, but the locals I’ve met are simply good families, women who worry about their own sons who haven’t made it home. They only want to help, and I’m certain they’d shelter you and help you on your way if they had to.’
He nodded, seeming to believe her. She quickly changed the conversation, not wanting him to ask her any more about it.
‘Tell me about home. Do you have brothers? Sisters?’ She smiled, moving to sit across from him.
‘I had a brother,’ he said, looking away, making her wish she hadn’t asked. ‘The first thing I thought, when I was shot down and I knew my plane was history, was that my mother wasn’t going to have a child left.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Hazel whispered, the room suddenly feeling terribly silent. ‘There are so many families losing their sons, so many women losing their husbands. Every loss is heartbreaking.’
‘I’m the younger one,’ Harry continued, his dark eyes finding hers again, somehow making her feel warm, the silence of the room less painful when he wasn’t gazing at the ceiling or at a spot past her head. ‘He was always the sensible one, the smart one, the confident one. And now there’s only me.’
Hazel didn’t reply because there was nothing she could say to ease his pain and she didn’t want to pretend there was. She only wished that she could tell him what she’d been through to get here, what she’d volunteered to do in an effort to make a difference in this war.
‘You were lucky to get out of your plane alive,’ she said, curious about how he’d managed to end up alive and on the ground. ‘Will you tell me what happened?’
‘I was hit but I was coherent – I hadn’t been hurt then – so I jettisoned the canopy and unbuckled my belts, and detached my radio and oxygen supply,’ he said quietly. ‘I only had a split second, so I did a half barrel roll and just fell straight out of the cockpit. All I could think was that my parachute might not work, but I could feel it there. I had to believe in it, and I was a dead man if I didn’t anyway.’
She nodded, chewing the inside of her mouth as she listened, feeling the fear within her, the churn of her stomach, recalling the similar experience she’d had. His eyes had come to life as he’d told his story, his lips curving into a smile as he shook his head and laughed.
‘I still can’t believe it worked,’ he said with a chuckle.
‘You were lucky to land where you did. To get out of there alive.’
‘I was damn unlucky to hit some tree branches on my way down, though,’ he continued. ‘I got the worst of my injuries from hitting them. My parachute seemed to work but then I got caught and I fell from the trees. It felt like days, maybe it was hours, crawling further away from all the evidence, and some stroke of luck sent your friend past me just when I’d given up hope of a friendly face. I know there are terrible things happening to downed airmen, British and American, so to get to safety is amazing. Honestly, I hope you realise how bloody amazing it is.’
He’d been incredibly lucky. Ridiculously lucky, in fact. She only hoped his luck rubbed off on them and continued.
‘Either you speak perfect English with a perfect accent for a Frenchwoman, or you’re from the same place as me,’ he suddenly said, catching her off guard.
So he hadn’t believed her before. Hazel smiled but it was fake, and she forced her shoulders and body to relax to make her face do the same. If this was an interrogation, she’d have just given herself away. So much for passing her training with flying colours.
‘I’ve let my guard down around you, and I shouldn’t have,’ she told him, not seeing any point in pretending otherwise. ‘Don’t ask any questions, especially when the others are back, otherwise you might find yourself without a group of women prepared to risk it all to get you out of here.’
He nodded. ‘I just wanted you to know that it’s nice to hear a familiar voice. I didn’t expect to hear the lovely lilt of an English lass
here, that’s for certain.’ Harry smiled. ‘That came out all wrong. What I meant was that it’s a nice familiarity.’
Hazel grinned back at him – she couldn’t help herself. He was too charming and he knew it. ‘Are you missing your wife or fiancée?’ she asked. ‘Or is it just a sweetheart you’ve left behind?’
This time it was Harry laughing, only he groaned as soon as he made the half-choked gurgle. Hazel jumped up and bent down, placing a hand to his chest. She’d suspected broken or cracked ribs from the beginning, and now she was more certain, but she had no idea what to do about it.
The door opened with a slam then, hitting the wall so hard Hazel was certain she’d felt the house jump from the shock of it.
‘Quickly!’ Rose shouted, running past them and legging it up the stairs.
Hazel’s heart felt like it had leapt into her throat as she watched Sophia darting past, hot on Rose’s heels.
‘Get what you need and break the radio down. We’re leaving!’ Sophia panted out. ‘There’s no time to transmit.’
‘Hurry!’ Rose screamed from upstairs.
Hazel didn’t need to be told twice. She saw Harry’s panicked face, wished there was something she could do to reassure him, but there wasn’t. She had no idea what was wrong, but something serious must have happened for them to storm into the house like that, ready to leave.
She hurried into the back room, checking her radio over and closing it inside the suitcase. She held tight to the handle, knowing it was the single most important thing in this house aside from them. In fact, it was probably more important than them.
Hazel ran up the stairs, breathless already, more from panic than exertion. ‘What happened?’ she asked as she grabbed her bag, the one she’d landed with and thankfully hadn’t taken anything out of yet.
‘No time, we’re going now,’ Sophia said, eyes wide as she held up her own bag and fled the room, calling over her shoulder. ‘If we can move him we’ll take him, otherwise he stays.’
Hazel’s body went cold as she froze to the spot. Stay? How could they leave him behind?
‘Downstairs, now,’ Rose ordered, grabbing her arm. ‘Grab whatever food you can carry in one hand or stuff into your bag, then pass it to me. We need to leave.’
She forced herself to follow Rose, taking each step as fast as she could. She followed her into the kitchen, grabbed what she could, wondering where they’d be spending the night, how everything had managed to change so quickly. What had happened to them out there?
‘Get him up,’ Sophia ordered, taking charge.
Hazel didn’t question her, knowing it was in her interests to do what she was told. And the one thing she’d been able to find out about Sophia when they’d been told during training about ‘the fox’ was that she’d garnered the name from her ability to sneak about undetected, to elude everyone who wanted to capture her. That meant Hazel was going to do everything she ordered her to do right now, because she might just be able to save all their lives.
She wondered if Sophia knew that she was on the most wanted list, the one woman the Germans were determined to catch more than any other. It was a piece of information she’d overheard from Smith during her combat training and never forgotten.
‘Harry, you need to move with us. Now,’ Hazel hissed. ‘Get up.’
She watched him struggle, put down the food to give him a hand. He grunted and let out a low moan as he managed to place his legs down. But getting on to his feet was almost impossible.
‘We’re going. Now!’ Sophia called out, pushing open the back door with a bang. ‘Give him this and then leave him.’
Hazel grabbed the broom that Sophia shoved in her direction, wondering how on earth she expected Harry to use it as a crutch in the condition he was in. But she saw the grim, determined set of his mouth as he stood on one leg and took it from her.
‘Get me a towel,’ he said. ‘Anything I can prop on top so I can have it under my armpit.’
Hazel dashed back into the kitchen but Rose had beaten her to it, giving her two towels before hurrying back out.
‘I don’t want to leave him behind, either,’ Rose muttered. ‘But if it’s us or him, we have to choose us. We’re needed more than he is right now and there’s no time to waste.’
Hazel agreed, she knew that in her heart it was the only way to think in this situation, but she wasn’t going to give up without trying. She helped him with the towels and hated seeing the pain etched into every groove of his face as he took his first tentative step and then another.
‘If you can keep up with us, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you survive,’ she said honestly. ‘But you have to move now.’
Hazel saw the panicked look on Rose’s face and followed her out, holding the door for Harry. She had her own things to carry, plus a radio to protect that was too valuable to their entire circuit in the area to lose, and hefting that around was heavy work. Their radio was the key to communicating with Paris and London, and connected them and others to their only lifelines.
‘You’re our pianist,’ Sophia said, glancing back at her and using the undercover term for a radio operator. ‘That means you’re the most valuable of all of us, so I’ll go first and Rose will be behind you. I want you in the middle whenever we’re out in the open or approaching a new area.’
Hazel didn’t say that every area would be new as they crept from Rose’s former vacation house towards some woodland, about to pass other houses that could just as easily be home to foes as friends. But it seemed they had no other option.
‘We’ll stop when we can to radio Paris, but we have to move fast,’ Sophia said briskly. ‘I don’t want our location discovered.’
Hazel glanced behind, saw how hard it was for Harry to walk, but she could also see how determined he was and she admired that. A lesser man would have collapsed within moments, unable to grit his teeth and push past the pain to keep moving.
‘If he holds us up . . . ,’ Sophia murmured, for her ears only.
Hazel nodded. ‘I understand. We keep moving.’
Sophia was clearly in charge of their little group; Hazel could tell that already, and she wasn’t about to challenge a woman who had such a formidable reputation. If she’d survived this long, chances were she’d be able to get them all to safety, too.
They walked and walked, keeping a steady pace, until eventually the darkness completely engulfed them. Any moonlight there was earlier had slowly disappeared behind wisps of clouds that had turned thick. It was too dangerous to continue.
‘Stop here,’ Sophia ordered.
Hazel tripped on a tree root or something sticking out of the ground, and was happy to stop walking. She could hear Harry’s laboured breath behind them, although he’d been keeping up remarkably well, and she guessed he’d collapse the moment he was given permission to.
‘What happened?’ Hazel asked, staring at Sophia’s silhouette. ‘Why did we have to leave like that? Is Samuel safe?’ She was full of questions after so many hours walking in silence.
Sophia turned her back and spoke without so much as looking over her shoulder, ignoring her questions. ‘We need to secure the area, make something to shelter us all. Rose and Hazel, gather anything you can.’ She looked around. ‘As soon as it’s light enough for you, you need to get that radio working.’
Hazel took that as her dismissal and knew she wasn’t about to find out anything any time soon. ‘What exactly do you expect us to find to make a shelter with?’ she asked. They could barely see, let alone forage, and there were plenty of trees around to lean against.
‘We need to save our energy,’ Rose chimed in. ‘Let’s just hunker down here by these trees and move on before daybreak.’
‘We’re sitting ducks, especially with him,’ Sophia replied. ‘We’ll have to move off the moment we have a slither of light.’
Hazel thought of the pill she’d been given, the one that could keep her awake for an extended stretch if she needed it to, but then sh
e was certain it was supposed to be kept for far more dangerous situations than this. It was as much a comfort in her pocket as a worry.
‘We all stay awake and rest then, to conserve our energy,’ Sophia said, moving further away so they all had to follow her. ‘Lean against a tree, have something to eat, and stay alert.’
Hazel did as she was told, trying to ignore Harry’s grunts as he used his makeshift crutch. She’d help him once they were settled, but she didn’t want to be accused of having a weakness. Sophia clearly had very high expectations, and she wasn’t about to disappoint her.
She took her bag off and placed it beside her, more careful with the radio as she delicately set it down. Hazel leaned against the tree, pleased when Harry dropped beside her.
‘How are you doing?’ she asked.
‘I feel amazing,’ he grunted out, panting as if he’d run the entire way. She supposed he felt like he had, given the exertion he’d put himself through to keep up with them as they fled.
She held up a hand, touched it to his forehead and bit back her frustration. He was sweating profusely, too sick to be on the move, and she hated to think what damage he’d done to his leg already.
‘How are the ribs faring?’ she asked.
‘I’ll be fine after a rest. Don’t go worrying about me.’
But she was. There was something about him that made her want to take care of him, to worry about him. Only she wasn’t in France to nurse; she was here to make communications. Her job was to be the link between cells, to pass on vital information. That was her role, what she’d trained for, and she had to prioritise that above anything else, including her personal feelings.
She made herself as comfortable as she could, trying to make her body rest even though her heart was still pounding.
‘We’re going to have to talk freely,’ Rose said, her soft voice even lower than usual. They all knew how easily sound could travel, especially conversation in the middle of the night. ‘Harry, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and trust you. But if you cross us?’ She paused and Hazel listened, waiting for what she knew was going to come next. ‘One of us will end your life without a second thought. We’re all trained and capable, so take my word for it.’
Hearts of Resistance Page 15