The Librarian Spy(24)
“I certainly wouldn’t put him further at risk by going to him with a false name and trying to break him out.” She lifted a brow and gave a little shake of her head. “You will both end up shot. You are better off leaving his freedom to Gabriel, who has the devil’s own luck.”
Gabriel. Etienne. No matter what name he went by, she was correct. He had not only emerged from the Great War unscathed, but always managed his way out of scrapes now as well.
Elaine was not so swiftly placated. She stared deep into the other woman’s dark brown eyes. “I don’t think you would do that.”
“No,” Denise confirmed. “But I am better trained than you.”
Her words stung, but sadly they held truth. Denise possessed a steeliness in her gaze, her time with the Resistance evident in the way her hands never once trembled and how easily she ignored the Nazis walking past.
They climbed a steep set of stairs and the conversation between them dropped with nothing more left to be said.
Elaine’s shoulders relaxed as they turned into the Croix-Rousse area of Lyon where pockmarked walls were littered with peeling signs and alleyways held the lingering odor of rubbish. There was less fear of patrolling Germans who seldom deigned to walk through the workmen’s district.
When Elaine and Denise entered the apartment, Nicole and Josette were already there, gathering envelopes for the second half of their deliveries.
“Bonjour,” Nicole called cheerfully. “We have this last bit and we are finished.” Her gaze lingered on Elaine for only a moment when she declared, “What if Josette goes with you, Denise. And, Elaine, I’ll show you around here.”
“I would like to become more familiar with the area,” Elaine agreed.
After they refilled their baskets, she allowed Nicole to lead her back down into the streets. The other woman wore an outfit similar to her last with a navy skirt like the day before, this one falling slightly below the knee, which she paired with a blue-and-white-striped shirt that called attention to her slim waist. With her red lips and nails, it was yet another clever application of the French tricolor. This time Elaine was certain the color choice was not by accident.
Of the four of them, Nicole always upheld a fashionable appearance. Denise was utilitarian in her attire with simple dresses and flat-soled shoes. The style was not much different from Josette’s who was partial to neutral colors that kept her from standing out, her only adornment a small gold cross that lay on a glittering chain below the hollow of her throat. Elaine’s own manner of dress was up to the standards of any housewife, her clothes clean and well-cared for despite the soap shortage, and her hair curled and swept back at the sides.
Nicole strode through the street with confidence, her wooden heels striking the ground with sharp clicks that made Elaine recall the song “Elle avait des semelles de bois” (“She Had Wooden Soles”) that Henri Alibert put out after rubber and leather became too hard to find. The catchy tune called out the click-clack sound young women made as they sauntered down cobblestoned streets in their ration-altered footwear.
“You mustn’t let Denise bother you.” Nicole waved Elaine into an alleyway where they slipped into a covered alcove and discreetly deposited several envelopes into the wall of letterboxes. “She’s like that with everyone.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I think that’s how it often is with communists.”
Elaine’s brows rose in surprise. Communists were some of the first groups cleared out by the Germans sent on trains and never seen or heard from again. A shiver slid down Elaine’s spine. “Denise is a communist?”
Nicole nodded as if it didn’t matter at all. “She’s managed to evade the Nazis thus far. It is why she operates underground as we all do.”
The openness with which Nicole spoke set a nervous edge to Elaine’s newly sharpened skills as a Resistant, and yet such candor was also refreshing after Denise’s stifling presence.
“What about you?” Elaine asked as they pushed back out onto the street.
Nicole bit the inside of her lip. “My brother and father both fought for France and were captured by the Bosche. Now they are in work camps in Germany. The sooner this war ends, the sooner they will be free.”
“What of the relève?” Elaine recalled the many posters she had seen about a year prior, asking women to labor for the Nazis in order to release the imprisoned French soldiers. For every three women who volunteered to go to Germany, one man would be released back to France.
After Lucie disappeared, Elaine had insulated herself from the idea of ever forming another friendship, not when trusting people was so dangerous. Not when losing a dear friend hurt so terribly. As a result, Elaine knew no one in such a predicament as to need to participate in the relève program until now. In thinking of her own aching loss with Joseph still in prison, she could imagine the enticement would be tempting.
Nicole scoffed, the sound harsh and indelicate. “My sister joined the relève. The Germans promised she would be near her husband, but I doubt that vow was ever honored. Regarding the French soldiers who are returned to France, they are all old and injured. Young, healthy men will not be freed until the war is over and now she is trapped in Germany, working for the Bosche until then.”
It was so very like the Nazis to use a woman’s love for her family to coerce her into building the very weapons and machinery that would continue to keep them enslaved.