The Book of Lost Names(82)

“Joseph will see to it that you’re brought there safely, too, once preparations have been made. But there are some children who need to go right now, before the Germans find them.”

“And they are more important than your mother?” Mamusia finally turned, her eyes blazing. Eva hardly recognized the woman before her, the woman trembling with anger, the woman whose decision to hold on to a past that would never return had made her into something cold and unfamiliar. “More important than your own blood? I suppose you’ll forget me as easily as you’ve forgotten your father.”

“Mamusia, I haven’t forgotten him!” Eva swiped at her tears. “This is bigger than us. This is about saving innocent lives. Doesn’t that matter to you?”

Mamusia set her jaw, but Eva could see the doubt in her eyes now, the sag of her shoulders. “What matters is that you’d rather be a part of this false family you’ve let yourself believe in. Your father would be so ashamed.”

Eva released her mother’s arms and took a step back. “Do you really believe that? You don’t think Tatu? would be proud that I’m trying to do the right thing?”

“He would have wanted you to be the person he raised you to be.” Mamusia turned her back and waved her hand dismissively. “So go, Eva. Run off to Switzerland with your papist friends and leave me here. Let’s be honest, shall we? You’ve already disappeared.”

Eva stared at her mother’s turned back in dismay. She longed to stay, to make her mother see her point now, but there wasn’t time. They would see each other in Switzerland again in less than a week, and she would explain everything, over and over if she had to. In fact, since her role in the underground would be done then, she would have nothing but time on her hands to make her mother see the truth. “Mamusia,” she said softly.

It took a whole minute for Mamusia to turn, and when she did, some of the anger on her face had been replaced with sadness. As the two women stared at each other, Eva understood that while she had sought solace by finding a purpose, her mother had found comfort by wrapping herself in indignation. It was her armor, her new identity.

“I love you, Mamusia.” Eva took a step forward and hugged her mother, who was stiff and unmoving at first, but who finally sighed and wrapped her arms around Eva, too. “Joseph will take care of you. I’ll see you in Switzerland in a few days, and then it will just be me and you.”

“Is that a promise?”

“You have my word, Mamusia.”

Mamusia pulled away. “Then be safe, moje serduszko.” She hesitated and added, “I love you, too.”

And then Eva had no choice but to turn and leave her mother behind. As she walked out of the boardinghouse after a brief exchange of hugs and good-luck wishes with Madame Barbier, she felt the tears streaming down her face, and she didn’t bother to wipe them away.





Chapter Twenty-Six




It took Eva an hour to put together a new set of papers for Lucie Besson, false wife of a man she had never met. As she waited for the ink to dry, she got down on her knees and prayed for her mother, for Père Clément, and for Geneviève. She added a prayer for her father, too, though it seemed likely that his fate was already written. And finally, she asked God for the strength and courage to lead the children across the mountain to safety.

When she stopped by Père Clément’s office to receive her instructions and to say goodbye, he pulled her immediately into a tight hug. She was reminded of the way her father used to embrace her after the war had started, to remind her that as long as they had each other, she would be safe. While it was reassuring to hear the pounding of the priest’s heart, and to know he’d be praying fervently for her, she knew it wouldn’t be enough. No man on earth could promise you more time, better luck, safer passage. Only God could do that.

“Here,” she said as she pulled away. She held out the key to the secret library, the one she had kept on a string around her neck, just to the right of her heart, since he had first given it to her. It hurt her to part with it, but she wouldn’t need it anymore.

Père Clément shook his head and gently lifted the key from her hand. He slipped the string back around her neck and smiled. “Keep it, Eva, as a reminder that you’re welcome here as soon as the war ends. There will always be a home for you in Aurignon.”

She bowed her head, blinking back tears. “Thank you, mon Père.”

“Now, you’re to take the bus to Clermont-Ferrand, and from there, the three o’clock train to Lyon, via Vichy. You’ll meet your husband, André Besson, and children—your sons, Georges, Maurice, and Didier, and your daughter, Jacqueline—at the Lyon train station for the remainder of the journey. The children will be traveling with false documents that should pass basic inspection, but they’ll need better ones, so when you meet them, you will give them the documents you’ve made already and your husband will go outside to destroy the ones the children have arrived with. There’s a train that leaves Lyon for Annecy at midnight. The children will be able to sleep on the train, and your husband will explain the rest to you. You’ll cross into Switzerland near Geneva.”

“How will I know the man I’m supposed to meet?”

“Just wait outside the side entrance, to the left of the main door, and you will see him approach with the children.”