by Karen Abbott
Francine’s relief that he was safe, mixed with annoyance that it had all been a set-up, faded when it occurred to her that she still didn’t really know if it were safe for her to speak. What if Charles were under duress to get her to talk, as it had seemed Angela was?
“Who are you?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly, sending him the unspoken message that he had better watch out if this were his idea of some sort of joke!
He laughed.
“It’s all right! You really can speak now. Come in, you guys. Convince her that it was a training exercise.”
Five or six young men stepped into the room, grinning sheepishly, aware of her anger, having gone through it all themselves on previous occasions.
“Thanks a lot!” Francine said sarcastically. “You frightened me out of my wits!”
“It was necessary!” one defended their actions. “It is better to learn amongst friends, when you can be corrected. If it had been for real, you would be dead … or wishing you were, by now!”
“Hmm!” She conceded the point. “And which one of you slapped me?”
“The one you spat at,” Charles informed her. “We had to make it real, otherwise it would have been a waste of time. One thing you failed on—you shouldn’t have tried to find me. It would have been better to lose one agent than possibly two! The mission must take precedence! Remember that in future!”
Francine caught her breath. Could she have abandoned him? She doubted it … unless she knew without doubt that he was dead! Would he have abandoned her? She had to accept that he would.
While that fact was slipping into her mind, she noticed Angela was joining them, now grinning broadly.
“You tried to get me to speak!” Francine accused her, her sense of humour coming to the fore and accepting the night’s events in their true light.
“You didn’t, though!”
“No.”
“And you did better than me! I got caught within minutes of being abandoned! I hadn’t a clue what to do or where to go!”
“Hmm. Well, you don’t know the area like I do. How did you do on the grilling?”
“About the same as you! No hard feelings?”
“No.”
She was rubbing her wrists and flexing her arms, trying to get some life back into them. The men had gathered together and were discussing some further plans, their attention diverted.
“And not about you and Pierre, either!” she added quietly. “I was only teasing you.”
Angela nodded.
“I know … but I didn’t know he was ‘your Pierre’ until people told me. And I couldn’t have done anything about it if I had known! It was just like a shaft of lightning hitting me! I’ve never known anything like it!” Her eyes glowed at the memory.
Francine smiled ruefully. “I know. I saw it. And he wasn’t ‘my’ Pierre… except in my dreams. He has always been his own man … until now!”
And, as she said it, she realised it didn’t hurt any more … well, not much! Neither did she pay any credence to the niggling thoughts she had about her reaction to seeing Charles safe and well. It was simply relief at his safety … wasn’t it?
In the following two weeks, Francine and Angela spent every night out on manoeuvres, working with different operatives each night, getting to know and trust them.
Francine had thought she knew the salt marshes … but not well enough to satisfy the stringent demands of her compatriots! They had to learn the exact layout of each group of marshes and identify each section by code; how many paces long each bank was and how wide they were; which banks fell away into the deep water or which ones linked with others. They had to draw maps from memory, being accurate on every twist or turn. The information to be learned seemed endless.
“You’ve just fallen into the sea, Angèlique! Try again!”
“You’ve led your group into a cul-de-sac, Francine! Bang! Bang! You’re dead!”
And then they had to follow a route through the marshes to safety.
It was harder for Angela but she gritted her teeth and kept at it, determined to be as accurate as Francine. They had seen very little of each other since their arrival on the island but they met occasionally for group briefings and sporadically heard brief mentions of the other. Thoughts of Pierre filled her off-duty times and they met whenever they could, marvelling that they had needed no time to get to know each other before they spoke of their love. It was as if they had known each other all their lives and had simply been waiting for love to overwhelm them. Both knew it wasn’t simply a physical attraction. They were like two halves of one being and times apart were but brief interruptions to be lived through with a longing to be together again.
Angela was staying with a family at La Chevalerie, a small village situated on the edge of the salt marshes just south of Le Chateau and Francine was told to make her way there one night as she was to go on a genuine reconnoitre in that area.
As soon as dusk fell, Francine made her way carefully through the salt marshes to the village of Ors. She now knew the area like the back of her hand and she slipped along narrow back alleys in Ors, keeping away from the main route through the village. Every so often, she heard the call of a curlew and she repeated the sound, finding it a comfort to know that her compatriots knew where she was. Her route lay through rear gardens, linking pathways created by the residents … but an unfathomable maze to the uninitiated.
She slipped into the shadows of the cottages in La Chevalerie and threaded her way to the one where Angela was staying. They didn’t have long to chat to each other but she could tell from Angela’s face that she was obviously still very much in love with Pierre.
“I have heard the rumours about him but I know they’re not true!” Angela said passionately to Francine. “He is very distressed about it but is determined not to let it drive him away. He longs to see his island set free from Germany’s yoke. I fear for his safety when he is out, dreading someone coming to tell me he is not coming back!”
Francine hugged her.
“He is a good operator,” she consoled her, “and I’m sure he weighs the risks against the outcome. They are all the same. I haven’t seen Charles for almost a week and I’m almost afraid to ask if he’s all right.”
She spoke the words unwittingly, voicing thoughts that lay hidden in the depths of her soul that not even she had been aware of … or had instantly dismissed as nonsense if they dared to intrude into her conscious mind.
“Francine! You sly thing! Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for him at last!”
Angela looked delighted at the idea, wanting her friend to know the joy that was in her own heart.
“Don’t be silly!” Francine was swift to dispel any such idea. She shrugged her shoulders to emphasise her denial. “We were friends for so long, I suppose I think of him like a brother.”
Even to herself, her words sounded trite.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes!”
“If you say so!”
Angela was grinning, totally disbelieving her. Her face sobered again, as her thoughts returned to Pierre and she sighed deeply.
“Pierre volunteers for the most dangerous missions, hoping to prove his true allegiance. He must always be the best, the one who is afraid of nothing!”
Francine nodded.
“He was the same at school … a real ‘dare-devil’! That is why we girls all adored him! And he always did come out on top!”
Angela smiled ruefully, wanting to hold on to that thought.
“I think it is very hard to be in love in wartime. Thousands of women all over the world have been given the bad news that I dread. I don’t know how they cope with it. I think I would want to die, too.”
“No, you wouldn’t! Pierre would want you to fight on!”
Francine was partly afraid that Angela was becoming depressed by the strain of her concern.
“You mustn’t think about it! Concentrate on what you are here for!”
“But we hav
en’t got a transmitter yet! It’s so frustrating! We have to keep sending couriers across the island, sending them into unnecessary danger. I don’t know why you enjoy all this crawling about in the marshes! Give me a cosy little rabbit-hole any day!”
Francine laughed at the image, knowing that it well-described her friend’s former role in the British forces.
“Don’t worry! We’ll be getting one soon! Things are happening on the mainland and our liberators are getting closer every day.”
“The sooner the better!”
Angela looked at Francine as if undecided whether to say more.
Francine sensed her indecision.
“What is it?”
A slow smile spread over Angela’s face.
“We’re thinking of getting married.”
Francine was surprised.
“You’ve only known him a few weeks!”
“I know … but it makes no difference. We know that’s what we want. We want to take what happiness we can … whilst we can! Who knows what next week might bring?”
She excitedly took hold of Francine’s hands.
“Will you be my bridesmaid, Francine?”
“Of course I will! You know that!”
Francine nodded slowly to herself, acknowledging the depth of love she had seen between them and knowing that she would feel the same way if she were in Angela’s position.
“Yes, you are right … and it will give Pierre something to make sure he comes home to when he is tempted to take risks!”
They had no time for any more conversation. Angela’s co-worker, André, arrived and, soon afterwards, Charles appeared, causing Francine’s heart to skip a beat. She wondered why his lop-sided smile hadn’t used to affect her in the way it did now. And that curl of his hair that fell over his right eye! Why did she feel the urge to tuck it back into place?
“Where’ve you been for the past few days?” she asked truculently, trying to push her strange thoughts away, hoping Angela hadn’t noticed her cheeks turning rosy. After their earlier conversation, she might misconstrue the cause.
“Missed me, did you?”
“Like toothache!”
“Ouch! Still, I’m back again … and I’m your escort tonight, you’ll be pleased to hear.”
Francine pulled a face at him, glad that he couldn’t read her mind … because she did feel unaccountably pleased! She really had missed him.
“What are we doing?”
“Nothing much,” he said lightly. “Just checking the marshes for mines and booby-traps.”
“Oh! Well, that’s all right, then, isn’t it?” she replied just as lightly. “As Angela’s just reminded me, there’s nothing I like better than crawling through the marshes at the dead of night!”
Charles put his forefinger under her chin and tilted up her face to his. For a shocked moment, Francine thought he was going to kiss her again and couldn’t understand why her lips parted slightly and tingled at the thought of his velvet caress.
“Angèlique,” he mouthed silently, correcting her slip. His dark eyes were laughing at her and she had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew that she had been expecting to be kissed.
“Sorry!” she mumbled, dropping her eyes, feeling stupid. Why did he always have to be the one to notice her mistakes and feel free to correct her? He really was the most insufferable man she knew! How could she have even begun to contemplate a change in her feelings for him? Never in a thousand years would he be anything but a thorn in her side!
“Shall we go?” she asked coolly. “I’ll see you sometime, Angèlique,” she tossed over her shoulder as she stalked through the door.
Charles swiftly followed her.
“Don’t take the correction of your mistakes out on Angèlique!” he reproved her, misinterpreting the edge to her voice. “She really is a sweet girl and it’s not her fault that you choose to idolise my brother and resent anyone who catches his eye. It’s time you grew up, Francine!”
“And it’s time you learned to mind your own business!” she flashed back at him. “Angèlique and I know where we stand!”
Not for the world was she going to tell him that she no longer idolised Pierre! He wouldn’t believe her anyway!
“Shall we get on with the job in hand?”
“If you’re ready!”
He laid a restraining hand on Francine’s arm.
“This is serious stuff we’re doing tonight, Francine. If you’d rather not do it, tell me now. We’ll be both holding the life of each other in our hands during the next few hours and if that look that seemed to say you wished I were dead is really how you feel, then I think I’d better get someone else to work with me!”
“Then I’ll just have to pretend that you’re Pierre, won’t I?” she retaliated crossly. “And, have no fear, I don’t want to besmirch my record by endangering you! I’m a professional, remember!”
“Good! So, with that out of the way, let me brief you on tonight’s task. We’ve had reports that the Germans have been up to something here in the marshes.”
“Why now, all of a sudden? I thought they were concentrating on the northern end by Chassiron and Boyardville.”
“They did … until the Normandy landings! Now, with the allied forces spreading out on the mainland, they think, quite rightly in my opinion, that an attack might come from there ... which puts St. Trojan and the area covered by the salt marshes into the forefront of possible attack. And it won’t be long in coming … so we’ve got to be ready! We think they’ve started placing mines in the marshes, so we need to know exactly where they’ve put them.”
“And how do we do that?”
As if she didn’t know!
“Like I said earlier, we crawl through the marshes until we find them!”
It wasn’t quite as random as Charles inferred. The ever-watchful observers had been very precise about the locations where the Germans had been seen to be working and they reported that the soldiers had returned to their depot at the northern end of the island before nightfall, leaving their insidious weaponry behind them.
Working in pairs, twenty-four local members of the undercover Resistance spent that night and succeeding nights making an inch-by-inch search of the terrain, carefully plotting their findings, to be checked by other pairs on subsequent nights.
It was cold, wet and decidedly uncomfortable work but the lives of other Resistance workers would depend upon their accuracy. Every movement had to be slow, precise and under complete control.
When Francine’s finger felt the touch of hard metal, her heart seemed to stop beating. She was crouched down on her knees, her arms stretched out in front of her. Charles was by her side, inching his way forward the same as she was. She took a deep breath and felt again. Her mouth went dry.
“I think I’ve found something!”
Chapter 6
“Right! Freeze!” Charles’s voice breathed in her ear.
Francine felt his fingers inch their way along her arm until he was at exactly the same position as she was.
“Wriggle back a bit!”
Knowing that Charles had more experience in this sort of warfare, Francine obeyed without question. This was nothing to do with personalities and differences of opinion. He was the expert and it was strangely warming to know that she could trust his judgement … trust him wholeheartedly, if the truth were told.
She held her breath while Charles carefully followed the outline of the metal shape, confirming Francine’s assessment.
“Good work! Get out your measuring tape. Give me the end … now measure back to the last reference point and write it down. Good! Now, stay where you are. This is a through-lane. I’m going to stride over it and check the other side.”
Francine’s heart was in her mouth as he did as he had said. If the Germans had placed two mines close together, Charles would step onto the second one! She felt a surge of anger at him. Did he have to take that risk? Could he not have played safe and worked his way around to the o
ther side? In the recesses of her mind, she knew that that would have taken too long … and there might have been more mines to check and chart … and more diversions to take. But she felt so frightened for him!
She was startled by the intensity of her fear and, whilst inwardly praying for his safety, without realising what she was doing, she turned the fear into anger.
There was no explosion.
She uttered a silent prayer of thanks but the memory of her fear seemed to settle like a frozen wedge deep within her. It didn’t do to fall in love in wartime. It made you vulnerable.
And she wasn’t falling in love with Charles! She wasn’t! He was as arrogant as his brother had always been! He enjoyed courting danger! Well, he needn’t expect any applause from her!
Charles worked his way safely to the next reference point, marked its length and returned to give her a hand as she stepped over the mine.
Francine accepted his assistance but immediately let go of his hand once she regained her balance.
“Lead the way!” she said briskly. “I’ll be right behind you.”
He wondered why she was suddenly so brusque with him again and decided that women were a breed apart. There never would be any understanding of them!
Within two weeks over a hundred mines were located in that area of marshes, with many more in other places—but at least they knew where they were—they hoped!
At the beginning of September the French and allied forces arrived on the coast at Rochefort, with only the narrow strip of sea separating them from Ile d’Olèron. The mood of the local inhabitants was electrified. Help was at hand!
The euphoric mood was rudely shattered by the escalation of troop activity in the eastern and southern parts of the island. German soldiers were suddenly in every street in Le Chateau and likely to burst into any home or shop at any time. Their grey uniforms were everywhere.
Identity papers were demanded three or four times daily and everyone became more nervy, forever looking over their shoulders to see if anyone was taking an undue interest in what they were saying or to whom they were speaking. Subdued tones and serious faces put their dampener on the small market town.