The Book of Lost Names(29)

Dusk was falling as their train pulled into Paris after a dozen delays. Once, they’d heard explosions in the background, and closer to the city, there had been gunfire. Had it truly been only four days since Eva left the capital? Already, things felt darker, more foreboding.

Rémy held her hand and carried her small valise as they left the train, both of them nodding politely to the German who had harassed her earlier. He waved them on, but Eva could feel his eyes boring into her back as they walked away.

As soon as they had left the station and were walking north on rue de Lyon, Eva pulled her hand away. “Fine, now we’re alone. Tell me what you’re doing here.”

“I’m still not sensing much appreciation from my lovely wife.” He grinned at her.

“I’m serious. Were you following me?”

“If you must know, I came to deliver documents to you this morning at your boardinghouse, but you were already gone. I caught a ride to Clermont-Ferrand with the postman, hoping to find you at the train station, but you had already boarded, and I couldn’t find you. So at the last moment, I bought a ticket. I was searching for you when I saw the German harassing you.”

“What were you doing with identity papers that made you out to be my husband?”

He laughed. “I made them at the same time I was putting together your school identification papers.”

“But why?”

“Just in case I needed them.”

She shook her head in frustration, and as they passed a small cluster of German soldiers laughing outside a bar, he took her hand again and kissed her on the cheek as they walked. “Needed them for what?” she asked, pulling away again once they were out of the soldiers’ earshot.

“For exactly the kind of situation we encountered today. Looks like I arrived just in time.”

They were going in circles, and she was beginning to get the feeling that he was enjoying drawing out the torture. “Fine, well, thank you. And enjoy your journey back to Aurignon.”

He stopped abruptly, and after a few more steps, she stopped reluctantly, too, and turned back. He was wearing the expression of a lost puppy.

“What?” she asked with a sigh.

“This is serious, Colette. You were in real danger.”

“I would have been fine.”

“I couldn’t take the chance.”

“Why not?”

He hesitated. “Because as much as I hate to admit it, you’re good at what you do. And we can’t afford to lose someone who’s good.”

“?‘We’??” she repeated.

He glanced around. “Père Clément. And others like him.”

“Forgers.”

“Shhhh,” he said instantly.

“Look, I appreciate the compliment. And I’m touched that you came all this way. But I’m only here to retrieve my father, and then my parents and I will go to Switzerland.”

He nodded. “I thought you might say that.”

“Well, then, I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you. I suppose I’ll see you back in Aurignon.” She hesitated. “I understand that I owe Père Clément something for his help, all right? I’ll stay on for another day or two to help before we head east, but I won’t be there long.”

“You really want me to leave you alone here in Paris?”

“This is my city.”

He frowned. “I’m afraid it’s not.”

Now he was making her angry. “Of course it is. I’ve lived here my whole life.”

He gestured to the Germans behind them and to a swastika flag flapping in the evening breeze a block ahead. “Colette, Paris isn’t yours anymore. Or mine. It no longer belongs to the French. Not right now, anyhow.”

She blinked at the flag and then took a hard look around. The rue de Lyon should have been bustling in the beautiful evening light, cafés and windowsills overflowing with happy people enjoying the summer air, but instead, it was nearly deserted, most of the windows around them shuttered and dark. She sighed and felt the last of the fight go out of her. “It’s Eva.”

“Pardon?”

“My name. It’s not Colette, it’s Eva. Eva Traube.” The moment the words had left her lips, she wondered if she’d said too much. Certainly she wasn’t supposed to tell people her real name, not here. He had saved her on the train, though; it was clear he meant her no harm.

He nodded and took her hand as they began to walk again. This time, she didn’t want to pull away. “Well, Eva, it’s very nice to meet you.”

“And I suppose you are not really Rémy.”

“Actually, I am.”

She gave him a look. “You expect me to believe that you just so happen to share a last name with my false identity?”

He smiled. “No. The Charpentier surname is incorrect, of course, but I really am named Rémy.”

“You used your real name on your false papers?”

He shrugged.

“Why would you go to that trouble?”

He squeezed her hand. “Because I’m of the opinion that no friendship should start out with a lie.”

“But you’ve spent the day pretending to be my husband.”

“Well, in that case, I suppose you’ll have to marry me someday.”