The Darkest Hour(17)

With my valise packed, I’m left with one last task: becoming Fleurette. When I return to my room, I see Tilly by her bed, pacing like Major Harken. She’s all ready to go, and she motions for me to sit on her cot.

“I’ll help you with the wig,” she offers. “I need to keep my hands busy or else I’ll go mad.”

“Delphine is stronger than all of us combined. You and Major Harken might be able to get her out by tomorrow night.”

“We’ll see.” She pins back my hair, and there’s no way she can hide her trembling fingers from me.

“You’re going to find her. I just know it. Besides, Major Harken might be a pain in our backsides, but you won’t find a better shot in France.”

“Are you saying that Harken is a better shot than I am?” She tries to grin for my sake, but I’ve already heard the flutter in her voice. It’s her tell whenever she gets nervous. She must sense this because soon she’s schooling her features like we’ve been taught to do. “We better hurry or Major Harken will start shouting.”

I want to assure Tilly again, but the truth is that I’m scared for her. Two lone agents against an entire city of Nazis? Those chances aren’t good … and neither are mine, when I think about it. So I focus on my alias instead, sweeping rouge over my cheekbones and painting my lips red. Though I make sure to use a light hand, because makeup is in short supply across France, and it’d look suspicious to wear too much of it. In any case, we get most of our cosmetics from Laurent’s daughter Christiane, who’s a saleswoman with Isabelle Lancray and sneaks us samples whenever she can spare them. If we need more, we purchase them off the black market, which has grown by the month since the Nazi takeover.

When Tilly and I are finished, a glance in the mirror reveals a girl I don’t recognize. Long golden waves cascade over my shoulders, framing a powdered face that looks far older than I really am, since Fleurette is a twenty-year-old singer who earns her living in Paris’s smoke-filled nightclubs. She’s the sort of girl who puts on heels every morning and wears lace nightgowns to bed, and who has had more paramours than she can count, while I’ve never had one. Theo made sure to scare off anyone who gave me a second look. A couple years back, Phillip Frakes tried to steal a kiss from me in the cafeteria after school—and I was thinking about letting him—until Theo spotted us and said real loud, What exactly do you think you’re doing, Frakey? Phillip ran off, and I punched Theo in the arm for being so insufferably embarrassing, but he mussed my hair like always. Someone’s got to watch out for you, kid, he said. I wished I could’ve returned the favor when he went off to North Africa.

“Blaise! Good God, how long does it take to apply some rouge?” I hear Major Harken swearing in the corridor.

I tie the handkerchief map around my neck and grab my bags, and Tilly and I hurry out to meet him.

“There you are,” Major Harken says when we reach him. He’s standing next to the ladder, arms tightly crossed. “You have everything with you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Even your L pill?”

It’s a grim question, but one that needs to be asked. I pat the small silk pocket on my blouse. “Right here.”

“Good. I’m sending you and Agent Chevalier out to the train station first.”

“We’re ready, sir.”

He looks doubtful at that, but thankfully he doesn’t voice it. Quickly he briefs Sabine and me on the code phrases we’ll use on the Resistance and the British Special Operations Executive to signal that we’re friendlies. Then he jerks his thumb toward the hatch. “Get moving. I’ll see you two back here in a few days.”

Before we go, Tilly shakes Sabine’s hand before she tackles me in a tight hug. I hug her back, wishing we had more time for a proper good-bye and wishing that she were the one coming with me to Cherbourg.

“Bon voyage,” Tilly whispers to me. “Try not to smother Sabine in her sleep if you can. You may need to keep her around.”

Despite everything that has happened these last twelve hours, I grin. “Go find Delphine and bring her home.”

Major Harken shakes my hand, and he attempts to shake Sabine’s, too, but she has already ascended the ladder. Apparently she’s still cross with him for making me tag along with her. I climb up after her, and once I reach the top I try to wave to Tilly, but I find Major Harken staring at me. I wonder if he’ll tell me good luck or offer a scrap of encouragement. Maybe he’ll give an enthusiastic, Get those Jerries for me, girls.

Instead Major Harken looks at me with tired eyes and says, “Be careful. Watch your back. And don’t get killed if you can help it.”

With that ringing endorsement hanging between us, he disappears into the darkness.





After the hatch closes, Sabine marches to the side entrance with her powdered chin pointed upward. If Harken’s warning has rattled her, she doesn’t show it. She’s far too busy scowling in my direction, obviously irritated that this is our mission instead of hers alone.

“Are you coming?” She taps her velvet toe against the floorboards. “Or do you need another minute to say your good-byes?”

I wouldn’t mind giving her a great big shove right about now. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that wishing Tilly well was a capital offense.”