The Librarian Spy(31)
Based on the last letter she’d received from her parents, the petrol shortage hindered travel between towns, which meant the supplies generated in Combs-la-Ville were likely to remain there. Certainly, food was more abundant in farming communities than in the city.
Elaine could only pray their circumstances remained tolerable. Sending and receiving letters into the occupied zone had become difficult previously, and once the Germans swept through the rest of France, it became truly impossible.
Nicole greeted her outside the apartment, wearing her usual tricolor combination with a shopping basket that held several bundles of rutabagas with the leaves still dangling from their purple-and-white bulbs. Along with those, she added a wrapped loaf of bread from her basket to Elaine’s. “We are picking up explosives to bring back into the city,” Nicole whispered. “These will cover them to avoid any suspicion.”
“Explosives?” Elaine asked in surprise, unable to keep from imagining those precarious objects bouncing about in her basket.
“There was an airdrop last night from Britain,” Nicole continued softly as they strolled down the cobblestoned street. “And we’re nearly out of what we need.”
If one read the newspapers—both clandestine and otherwise—the Resistance running low on explosives seemed entirely possible considering how many random bombs burst through the city. The explosions wounded some Germans and killed even fewer. However, the destruction to factories and transformers was generally significant and created more than a few issues for the Nazis. As a result, Lyon’s prefect was constantly extending hours of their curfew for several days as punishment, as if they were wayward children warranting parental censure.
But every occurrence of blasted concrete and twisted metal that stymied Nazi operations was a boon to the Resistance that chipped away at Germany’s defenses. Eventually the Nazis would fall.
Now she was an integral part in the gathering of those explosives.
She stood a little taller.
They passed a queue of women in front of the grocer. “I found out more about your husband as well,” Nicole said once they were out of earshot.
Elaine’s heart squeezed in anticipation, though she couldn’t discern if the visceral reaction was one of hope or trepidation. She had left a message for Etienne with Manon asking him to meet with her later that day to insist on helping with Joseph’s liberation. The days were growing insufferable with thoughts of her husband trapped in a cell. There had to be something she could do.
“What have you heard?” Elaine asked, breathless with anxiety.
Nicole glanced about as they stopped to wait for the tram that would take them to the outskirts of town. People strolled by, appearing preoccupied in their own concerns and lives, but one never knew who listened. Not only plainclothes Gestapo, but also the Milice—the French secret police—and, of course, collaborators, ready to turn in their fellow Lyonnaise for an extra loaf of bread.
A network of dark tram wires was draped overhead like a web where they bobbed and swayed in the light breeze.
“Pierre assisted with creating identity cards, as you know.” Nicole spoke closely as though sharing a bit of titillating gossip. “His knowledge of chemistry was essential in creating stamps as well as removing them from the official documents.”
Elaine couldn’t help but smile. Yes, that sounded like Joseph.
The act of forging the slant of someone’s handwriting to create a new identity card wouldn’t have been enough for him. He would have persisted in his endeavors until he could not only remove ink from stamps but replicate necessary inks too.
“From what others say, your husband is very intelligent,” Nicole said.
Heat spread over Elaine’s cheeks. “It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him.”
The tram stopped before them, and they climbed in through the open doorway before sliding into the hardback seats amid the other passengers.
“Neither one of us was looking for a relationship.” Elaine’s shoulders relaxed with the relief of having a normal conversation where their words didn’t have to be discreet. “I was determined to maintain my career as a secretary, and he had the importance of his research at the time. We never even went out to dinner together. We just talked so often that we both accidentally fell in love.”
Nicole smiled. “That sounds unconventionally romantic.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Elaine chuckled to herself as she relived those precious moments in her mind. “One day I was explaining why I never intended to marry since I was earning my own living, and that’s when he asked me to be his wife. He said I could keep my job, and he would sign whatever was necessary for me to obtain a bank account that he would never interfere with. And I said yes.”
Joseph’s brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at her, his pleasure at her agreement to marry him apparent.
“You should take me out to dinner,” she teased.
“Are you hungry?”
“Not now.” Giddiness tickled through her, making her laugh as she threaded her hand into the warm crook of his elbow. “I mean the way other couples do.”
“They do that to get to know one another.” He bowed his head toward her, and the light spice of his aftershave left her with a heady sensation. “We already know each other.” He studied her then as he did a calculation. “Yes, dinner.” The suddenness of an answer fully realized. “I’ll make reservations.”