‘“Did you hear me? Frédéric shouted again. Get out of here, or I’ll kill you.” The soldier, suddenly full of bravado, took his gun from its holster and waved it in Frédéric’s face. Frédéric lunged at the soldier and wrestled him to the ground – and the gun went off. The two boys, for that was all they were, stood perfectly still and looked at each other as if they were in shock, Father Albert said. Then Frédéric fell to the ground. The German soldier bellowed, “No! God forgive me.” Then he laid down beside Frédéric, put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.’
Claire sat and stared, seeing nothing, and then said, ‘I saw a bunch of flowers on a pew when I walked down to you. Are they for Frédéric?’ Édith nodded. ‘May I come with you to put them on his grave?’ Édith nodded again.
Together they walked back to the nave and picked up the flowers. ‘They are for Monique too,’ Édith said. ‘They are together now. Together,’ she sighed.
They left for the churchyard by the side door. It was almost dark. ‘Aimée and Thérèse will be home now,’ Édith said. ‘You wait until you see your daughter, Claire. She is so beautiful.’ Édith began to cry softly.
There was no gravestone when Claire last visited Monique’s grave. There was now. Frédéric’s name was above that of his fiancée. Édith took off the old flowers and put on the new. The two women stood either side of the grave in silence. Claire wanted to be strong for Édith and forced herself not to cry. Édith prayed. When she had finished she looked around, spotted a grave without flowers and put Frédéric and Monique’s old flowers on it. They looked fresh. Claire suspected they were and that Édith came to Frédéric’s grave every day. ‘Shall we go home?’ she said. ‘It’s getting cold and your coat is thin.’ Édith put her arm through Claire’s and they walked slowly home.
As they entered the house, the difference in temperature from when Claire and Eddie first arrived was pleasantly noticeable. Claire helped Édith out of her coat and Eddie greeted her by putting her arms around her and kissing her. She raised her eyebrows over Édith’s shoulder and Claire shook her head, as if to say don’t ask. ‘I have made coffee,’ Eddie said, ‘and when you’re ready I will make us a meal.’ She went to the stove, brought back the coffee pot and filled three cups. She pushed the milk jug towards Édith, who ignored it, so Claire added milk to all three cups.
When Édith finished her coffee she excused herself, saying she was going upstairs to have a lie down. Claire stood up when Édith did, ready to go with her if she asked. She didn’t. ‘I’ll see you at dinner?’ Édith shook her head. ‘I’ll pop in anyway. If you’re awake you may be hungry.’ Édith left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Eddie poured herself and Claire more coffee. ‘You’ve been gone ages. What happened?’
Claire told Eddie how Frédéric had found the German soldier who had killed Monique at her grave. How they had fought and how Frédéric had been killed. ‘I think it was an accident. I didn’t say so to Édith, but I really think the German wanted Frédéric to shoot him. When he didn’t, or when the soldier realised he’d killed Frédéric – we’ll never know – the soldier shot himself.’
‘Three years, four, since Frédéric joined the Resistance and he hasn’t had a scratch – and then he is killed at his fiancée’s grave.’ Eddie hung her head. ‘It makes no sense.’
Claire was about to agree when she heard a bump at the kitchen door. Eddie was nearest and stood up. ‘I’ll get it,’ Claire said. ‘It’ll be Thérèse and Aimée.’ She jumped up and put out the light as the door swung open.
Thérèse, with her back to Claire, lifted the handle of the pram and took several steps backwards into the kitchen until the pram’s back wheels had cleared the step. She then pushed down on the handle to lift the front wheels over and brought the pram into the kitchen, kicking the door shut behind her. Claire flicked the light on and Thérèse turned a rosy face to her. ‘My dear. How lovely to see you,’ she said, taking a step back so Claire could see her daughter.
Claire looked into the pram and then at Thérèse. ‘Can I?’
Thérèse laughed. ‘Of course.’ She moved to the fire as Claire lifted Aimée out of the pram. Sitting next to Eddie, she beamed at her daughter as she bounced her on her lap. ‘Hello, my beautiful girl,’ she said to the gurgling baby. ‘In such a short time she has changed so much.’
‘So have you, Claire, you are very thin. You have not been taking care of yourself,’ Thérèse said. ‘But I’m sure Édith will fatten you up now you are back.’
‘I’m afraid I may not be here long enough. I have to go to England for a couple of weeks.’
Eddie raised her eyebrows. ‘We don’t know how long we’ll be away, but we’ll be leaving sooner rather than later.’
‘It will only be for a couple of weeks,’ Claire insisted. ‘And we don’t know when we’ll be leaving. We’ll see Jacques tomorrow. He’ll let London know we’re here, and they’ll inform him when they’re going to pick us up. I need to ask Jacques if he’s heard anything about Alain, too.’
Édith didn’t come down again that day, but she was up early the following morning and seemed more like her old self. After breakfast they all went into Gisoir. Thérèse left them to visit her parents and Édith, pushing Aimée in a borrowed pushchair, went to the market leaving Claire and Eddie to see Jacques.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
On her hands and knees, Claire chased her daughter in crawling versions of catch me if you can and peep-o, surprising her with a knitted teddy bear and dolls with china faces that looked round curtains, or popped up unexpectedly from behind chairs. Aimée clapped and squealed every time, but the game she liked best was knocking down the wooden farm animals that André and Frédéric’s father had crafted for them when they were Aimée’s age. Time after time, before Claire had placed the last animal in position in the farmyard beside timber farm buildings – a boy’s version of a dolls’ house – Aimée knocked them down. Feigning surprise, Claire put her hands up to her face and gasped and Aimée laughed with mischievous satisfaction. Crawling away as fast as she was able, she hid behind the chair until Claire found her and tickled her, making her laugh even more.
‘That looks like a fun game,’ Édith said from the door. Aimée offered Édith a black and white horse, which Édith took and stroked. ‘It is time, Claire.’
Claire scooped Aimée up in her arms and rocked her. ‘I have to go to work now, darling, on a big aeroplane.’ Aimée laid her head on Claire’s chest. ‘When I come back,’ she whispered, ‘I am going to find your daddy.’ Aimée wriggled and put her thumb in her mouth. Claire looked down. Her daughter’s eyes were heavy. Slowly, her eyelids lowered and closed. Then she jerked her head, opened them wide, looked up at Claire and smiled. A second later she closed her eyes and they stayed closed. Claire breathed in Aimée’s scent: the warm subtle smell of baby, of orange blossom on her hair, the clean fresh smell of her clothes that Édith insisted on washing and ironing, and a hint of lavender from Thérèse’s perfume. Claire was overwhelmed by the love she felt for her daughter – Mitch’s daughter. She listened to Aimée’s breathing, a little erratic at first, but soon becoming calm and rhythmical, and she wished with all her heart she didn’t have to leave her. As tears fell from her eyes, the door opened again. It was Eddie. Claire nodded that she knew it was time to leave and pushed herself up. Aimée’s eyes fluttered, but she didn’t wake. She was fast asleep when Claire laid her in her pram.
Turning away from Aimée, Claire cried silently. Édith wrapped her arms around her. ‘Dry your eyes, my dear. Come now,’ she said, ‘shush… Thérèse and I will look after Aimée for you.’ Claire nodded, but her throat was so tight with emotion, she wasn’t able to speak. ‘You must go now, or you will miss the plane.’ Claire wiped her eyes and turned to pick up her case. ‘Pierre has taken it.’
‘André is outside with the pushbikes, Dudley. We really should go,’ Eddie said, holding the kitchen door open.
Claire k
issed Thérèse and Édith goodbye, but still she wasn’t able to speak. Eddie did the same, promising to look after Claire. She followed Claire out of the warm kitchen and into the cool evening air. André was waiting in the alley with the bicycles. Claire mounted Édith’s bike and Eddie Thérèse’s. They cycled through the backstreets of Gisoir as fast as they were able.
‘You have two minutes once the plane has landed,’ André said, when they arrived. ‘Are you ready?’ Claire and Eddie both nodded. ‘It has been a pleasure knowing you,’ he said to Eddie.
‘For me too. Until the next time,’ she said, kissing him goodbye.
While André said goodbye to Claire, Eddie shook hands and thanked the other resisters. ‘Mother and Thérèse are devoted to Aimée, so do not worry, Claire. Your daughter will be looked after and loved – and waiting for your return.’
‘I know,’ Claire said, putting her arms around André and hugging him tightly. Then she took a step back and looked into his eyes. ‘Promise me you won’t stop looking for Alain,’ she said. ‘He is still alive, I know he is.’ At that moment a Lysander came into view. It was low in the sky to avoid radar and looked as if it was going to land. It did. The engineer knelt by the open door and hauled Claire and Eddie in. André threw Claire’s suitcase in after her. ‘Promise me you’ll keep looking for Alain, André,’ Claire shouted.
‘I promise,’ André shouted back. A second later the door slid into position and locked, and the Lysander began to taxi along the field. After a couple of bumps and a rattle that sounded like marbles rolling around in a bath tub, the Lysander picked up speed and lifted off.
Claire hooked her belt onto a safety strap, leaned her head against the side of the aircraft and listened to it hum. She was on her way home to England, but she had left her heart in France.
‘Going down!’ the pilot shouted, and Claire and Eddie held onto the straps. The Lysander landed at RAF Hawkinge and taxied along the runway to the fuel point. As Claire and Eddie jumped out of the aircraft a couple of engineers ran to it with fuel hoses. The pilot slid back the cockpit and clambered out. ‘When she’s been refuelled, I’m taking her up to Coltishall.’ He patted the plane’s fuselage. ‘If you want a ride, be back here at four.’
‘Thanks, but we’ll hitch a lift to the railway station as soon as it’s light,’ Eddie said.
Claire and Eddie followed the pilot across the tarmac and into a single-storey prefabricated building. ‘I’m going to get my head down for an hour,’ he said. ‘Someone will be here to meet you soon.’ A second later he had turned the corner and disappeared.
‘We could get our heads down in one of these offices,’ Eddie said, opening the first door along the corridor and poking her head in. ‘This room will do, Dudley.’ Claire yawned and followed her. ‘Argh!’ A rattle of bones caused Eddie to step back onto Claire’s foot.
‘Ouch!’
‘Sorry, Dudley.’ Eddie felt along the wall for the light switch, found it and flicked it on. ‘A bloody skeleton!’ she screamed. Claire laughed. ‘It isn’t funny, Dudley. The damn thing gave me a real fright.’
‘It must be a medical training room.’ Claire lifted a dummy, the kind clothes shops have in their windows, from a makeshift bed. As she sat down, the thin metal legs of the bed buckled and she almost fell off. ‘Damn thing dips in the middle like a flaming hammock,’ she said. ‘Come on, Ed. There’s another bed over there. Let’s get some sleep.’ Slowly she lifted her feet up and leaned back until she was lying down. Once her body weight was spread equally she buttoned her coat.
Eddie switched off the light and felt her way along the wall to the other bed. Claire heard her curse under her breath, and then she said, ‘Night, Dudley. Sleep well, old thing.’
After what seemed like only a few minutes Claire snapped awake and fell off the bed. ‘Thank goodness this damn contraption is only a few inches off the floor,’ she mumbled. ‘Eddie?’ she hissed. ‘Eddie?’ She heard Eddie groan. ‘There’s activity in the corridor. I think it’s time to make a move.’
‘Right-ho!’ Eddie pushed herself up and yawned. ‘I’m ravenous,’ she said, stumbling to her feet.
The smell of fried bacon met them as soon as they opened the door. ‘Follow that delicious aroma,’ Eddie said, already halfway down the corridor to the canteen. Breakfast was in full swing. Eddie joined the queue waiting to be served while Claire found a table. She put her case on one chair and her coat and scarf on another. When she joined Eddie, she was being served.
‘Scrambled eggs and bacon, and a cup of tea, please,’ Claire said.
The kitchen assistant scooped a portion of watery egg and slopped it onto Claire’s plate. Then she forked a rasher of streaky bacon from among many, dropped it on top of the egg and threatened, ‘Another?’ Claire shook her head, moved to the end of the counter and poured a cup of tea from a large urn. ‘Help yourself to bread,’ the woman called. Claire turned, smiled half-heartedly, and took two rounds of bread and butter.
‘Got any English money, Eddie?’ Claire asked, as they ate their food. ‘I don’t think the local taxis will take francs. Nor will the railway station for that matter.’
‘Allow me. You must be Aircraftwomen First Class Mountjoy and Dudley?’ Both women stood up and saluted. ‘At ease,’ the officer said. ‘Eat your breakfast or it will get cold. I looked for you last night, but when I couldn’t find you I returned to my quarters.’
Claire felt her cheeks redden. ‘I’m afraid we were a little tired, so--’
‘So you were resourceful?’ he laughed. ‘I was told you might be.’ Still smiling, he turned towards the door and motioned to another officer. ‘Officer Warner will take you to Folkestone station, when you are ready. This is sufficient for your tickets to London,’ he said, handing Claire several pound notes. ‘There’s a little extra for a drink and something to eat. No telling how long you’ll have to wait for a train.’
Claire and Eddie thanked the officer and when he stood up to leave, they stood and saluted again. Eddie swooped down on the last piece of bread and butter before following Claire outside. Officer Warner was by the car reading his newspaper. He stood to attention when he saw them. By the time they had walked over, he had opened both back and front passenger doors. Claire slipped into the front seat and Eddie into the back with the case. After closing the doors, Officer Warner jumped into the driver’s seat.
‘Just heard that Folkestone railway station is closed again, but it doesn’t take long to get to Dover,’ the driver said, holding his pass against his windscreen at the main gate. The MP waved the car through and it cruised effortlessly onto the main road.
Arriving at Priory railway station, Dover, Claire and Eddie ran onto the platform as a train disappeared amidst a cloud of steam. At the ticket office Claire asked if that was the nine-twenty to London. It was. ‘What time is the next train?’
‘Eleven o’clock, Miss.’
‘Two tickets then, please, one way.’
Eddie blew out her cheeks in frustration. ‘Tea?’
‘Tea!’ Claire agreed.
Eddie bought the teas and took them over to Claire, who was seated and staring out of the window. ‘Penny for them?’
As she turned to face Eddie, Claire fought back her tears. ‘They’re worth much more than that,’ she whispered.
‘I’m sorry, Dudley,’ Eddie said, putting the teas on the table and sitting next to Claire. ‘Damn silly thing to say. I can’t begin to imagine how you’re feeling.’ Eddie put her hand on Claire’s. ‘She’ll be fine, you know? Édith will make sure of that. She’ll want for nothing.’
‘Unless the Gestapo find out about the Resistance cell, which André and Frédéric --’ Claire burst into tears. She took a handkerchief from her bag. ‘You knew Frédéric was dead when you came to Paris, didn’t you?’ Eddie looked down and nodded. ‘Did Édith tell you?’
‘No. I only saw Édith for a couple of hours when I arrived and an hour in the morning. Thérèse cooked breakfast for André and me, w
hile Édith fed Aimée. Then she took Aimée upstairs to wash and dress her. She was still up there when I left. It was André who told me his brother was dead, while we waited for the train at Gisoir station. He didn’t say how he’d died, just that he had. When he gave me the drawing, he made me promise not to tell you, just to say Frédéric had sent it. I thought about telling you while we were at Antoinette’s, but decided you had enough on your mind.’
Claire smiled through her tears. ‘Thank you.’
When the eleven o’clock train to Charing Cross pulled into Dover’s Priory station it was packed to the gunnels with servicemen. Claire and Eddie stood in the corridor, moving only occasionally to let someone pass. It was a short journey, thank goodness, which went quickly.
At Charing Cross station they were met by Vera Halliday. ‘Welcome Edwina, Claire. My goodness, you have lost weight, Claire,’ she said, taking Claire’s case. ‘I’ve got a cab waiting. I expect you’re looking forward to getting home.’
‘I’m looking forward to a long hot bath in a proper bathroom,’ Claire said.
‘And a lie-in in the morning,’ Eddie added.
‘Colonel Smith doesn’t want to see either of you until tomorrow afternoon,’ Vera Halliday said, ‘so you have time to do all that.
‘Is there any news of Captain Mitchell?’ Claire asked.
‘Not that I’ve heard.’ Claire sighed. ‘That doesn’t mean there hasn’t been any news. It means I haven’t been told of any. Colonel Smith will inform you of any developments tomorrow.’ The cab came to a halt at the front of the small apartment block on Portman Square. ‘There is food in your larders. Bread, milk, eggs, that sort of thing. I’ll telephone you tomorrow morning with the times of your appointments.’
China Blue (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 3) Page 22