The Book of Lost Names(87)

“Yes, yes. Let’s get your little family to the attic, shall we? Then I can brief you on today’s movements from the border guards.” He smiled at Eva. “I’m sorry that our accommodations aren’t more comfortable, but the attic is a quiet and safe place to rest for the day. And best of all, there’s a little window that allows you to look out to the north. You can see Switzerland not five hundred meters from here, just across the barbed wire fence.”

He led them up a rickety, pull-down ladder to a small space overhead that had already been stocked with blankets and pillows. A pitcher of water rested on a small table beside several glasses, a loaf of bread, and a small jar of preserves. “It’s not much,” Père Bouyssonie said with an apologetic shrug. “With any luck, though, you won’t be here for long.” He gestured to the window. “Look, Eva. Just beyond the trees.”

Eva moved to the window, and her breath caught in her throat. Just beyond the priest’s yard, across a broad field, a barbed wire fence stretched as far as the eye could see. On the Swiss side, tall, slender skeletons of poplar trees reached for the winter sky, and beyond them, Swiss Army sentries with long, heavy wool coats and thick black boots walked along the border, rifles slung over their shoulders. She could feel Rémy’s breath on her cheek as he crouched beside her.

“That’s freedom, Eva,” he whispered. “So close you can taste it.”

As she turned to search his familiar green-flecked hazel eyes, she felt dazed. “But the barbed wire… The guards…”

“Don’t worry.” He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed gently. “There’s a way in. We’ll go tonight just past nine, as long as the guards are on a normal patrol. In the meantime, you and the children should get some rest.”

“What about you?”

He smiled slightly. “I slept enough on the train.” He leaned in and added in a whisper, “I knew I was safe with you beside me.”

“Come,” the priest said, giving Eva a gentle smile as he beckoned to Rémy. “There’s much to be done.” To Eva he said, “See if you and the children can eat a bit and sleep. You’ll need your energy. We’ll be back after nightfall.”

Rémy kissed Eva on the cheek and then followed the priest down the ladder, which was then pushed back into the attic floor, leaving the Eva and her four charges in darkness lit only by the small window to freedom.

“Will we be all right?” asked Jacqueline, coming to sit beside Eva.

“Yes, I feel sure of it.” And for the first time since leaving Aurignon, Eva realized she believed it. Refuge was within sight, and God willing, she’d be able to help give these children a life, a future. But what about her? What about Rémy? How could she let him go back into the fight so soon after she’d found him again? She shook the questions away and put an arm around the little girl. “Come, let’s have a bit to eat, shall we?”

The children murmured excitedly to each other while they ate their bread and preserves, and they took turns peeking out the window at Switzerland. After the small meal, Eva kept watch while the children snuggled under the blankets and fell asleep. Lulled by the silence and the warmth, she eventually drifted off, too. She awoke with a start sometime later to find Rémy beside her, gazing at her with tears in his eyes. He quickly looked away.

“How long have you been there?” Eva asked. Darkness had fallen outside, and the only illumination in the attic was from the faint moonlight spilling in through the window. Around them, the children were still asleep, one of the boys snoring lightly.

“Not long,” Rémy said, his voice husky.

“What were you thinking about?”

He didn’t answer right away. “You,” he said at last. “Us. The past. The future.”

But Rémy would need to stay alive if they were to have any sort of future together. He knew that as well as she did, so she bit her tongue before she could remind him. “Where do you want to go after the war?” she asked instead.

“Eva, I’ll go wherever you are.” His voice caught on the last word, and he cleared his throat. “Enough of that. It’s time to move. The patrols on this side of the border are working at regular intervals, so the crossing should be smooth.”

“Rémy—” Eva began. There was so much to say. She wanted to tell him she loved him, that she couldn’t imagine a life without him, but somehow the words wouldn’t come.

“It’s all right,” he said after a moment. He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I know, Eva. I—I feel it, too.”

“What if I never see you again?”

“You will, Eva. I promise.”

There were footsteps on the ladder then, and Père Bouyssonie’s head appeared behind them. “It’s time,” he said. “Let’s get the children ready.”

Eva nodded and forced herself to pull away from Rémy. The feelings she’d been nursing for months, the things she didn’t have the courage to say, had no place here, not in this moment. She had only one job, and that was to see to it that four young, innocent lives were saved. And as Père Clément might have reminded her, the rest was in God’s hands.

Twenty minutes later, the children were awake and bundled back into their fraying woolen coats. Père Bouyssonie hunched in the attic facing the little group while Rémy sat beside Eva, his fingers laced with hers.