The Book of Lost Names(52)

“We’re in Madame Barbier’s boardinghouse. Do you know it?”

“I do. And remember, Eva, you can’t tell anyone my real identity.” He shook his head and reached out once more to touch her cheek, his hand lingering there, still ice-cold. “Who would have guessed, little Eva Traube fighting the Germans? Wonders never cease.”

And then, replacing his cap and wrapping his scarf around his neck once again, he was gone, disappearing out into the sunny morning.



* * *



On the short walk back to the church, Eva didn’t tell Père Clément that Joseph was a familiar face from the past; she told him only that the meeting had gone well and then gratefully accepted the comfortable silence that settled between them. He bade her goodbye at the door to the church, giving her a paternal kiss on the forehead, and Eva let herself into the small library with a million thoughts swirling through her head.

“So? You met Faucon?” Rémy’s voice startled her enough that she let out a small shriek; he had been standing in the shadows near the back bookcase when she arrived, and she’d been in such a fog that she hadn’t noticed him. He stepped from the darkness with a frown. “I suppose he wanted to tell you everything we were doing wrong here?”

“Actually, he was quite lovely.”

“Not exactly the word I would use to describe him.”

Eva blinked in surprise. “You’ve met him?”

“Twice now. And if he spent as much time helping the underground as he did coiffing his hair in the mirror, perhaps we would have beaten the Germans already.”

“Rémy, he’s not that bad.” She wanted to explain that she and the man he knew as Gérard Faucon had been in school together since they were small, that he knew her mother, that she’d known his parents, that she knew he was a decent fellow, if a bit egotistical. But that would be giving away information that wasn’t hers to share.

“I suppose he’s all right. He just rubbed me the wrong way. So out with it, then. What did he want to criticize?”

“I don’t know yet. He said he’ll explain tonight.”

Rémy raised an eyebrow. “Tonight?”

“Yes. He’s, er, coming to dinner.”

Hurt flashed across Rémy’s face, and he turned away. “I see. A date, then?”

“No, no, of course not.” But Eva couldn’t elaborate. She swallowed hard and changed the subject. “So you say you’ve met him a couple of times? Why?”

Rémy’s gaze was sad as he turned back to her. “I’ve been looking for ways to get more involved with the effort, Eva. I thought he might be able to help me.”

“But you’re already doing plenty. Look at all the children we’ve helped together.”

“Don’t you ever wish you were doing more, though? I feel so powerless here sometimes, especially since the Germans moved in last month.” He sighed. “A few weeks ago, I asked for a meeting with Claude Gaudibert. You’ve heard of him?”

Eva nodded. It was the alias used by the man who was in charge of the Resistance in their area; she had heard Père Clément and Madame Noirot mention him.

“Well, he sent Faucon in his place, and apparently he wasn’t too impressed with me. He asked me many questions about the work we’re doing here, and he said he’d get back to me about other ways I could help. I didn’t hear from him again until earlier this week. He said Gaudibert wanted to know if I might be available for some other operations.”

“What sort of operations?”

Rémy’s eyes moved back to hers. “He needs more couriers to help escort children across the border to Switzerland. It seems there’s an immediate need, as one of the men who typically runs the route has been arrested.”

“But, Rémy, that must be very dangerous. You’re not really considering it, are you?” Eva could feel tears in her eyes, and she knew Rémy saw them, because he finally softened, taking a step closer and touching her cheek.

“I have to, Eva. I have to do more to help. It’s what I came here today to tell you. I’ve already told Père Clément.”

“Told him what?”

“That I leave tonight with my first group of children.”

Her whole body felt suddenly cold. “To-tonight? But it’s the middle of winter. Surely a crossing would be perilous.”

He shook his head. “I’m told we send the children across near Geneva, without going through the Alps, so the weather doesn’t pose a tremendous problem. In fact, it limits troop movement, which works in our favor.”

“But, Rémy, what if something happens to you?”

“I’ll be careful.” He took a step closer, his breath warm on her cheek, and for a second, she thought he might kiss her. He merely brushed his lips against her forehead, though, and then quickly stepped back, as if he’d been burned. “Anyhow, enjoy your dinner with Faucon.”

“Rémy, I—”

But he had already turned his back, and a few seconds later he was gone, the lock clicking behind him. Eva considered going after him, begging him to give the courier job to someone else, but why would he listen to her? He didn’t owe her a thing.