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Nancy sniffled. “But she’s nice. Why would she check our house?”

Fabienne couldn’t believe that Johanna would order him to search the cottage, that didn’t make sense. But she had to find out what Johanna had said so she could understand what had gone wrong. Slip-ups like that would cost them. They had been lucky that Nancy had seen him coming. If she hadn’t, they wouldn’t be here now. “I don’t know. I think Lieutenant Schmidt decided.”

Nancy wrapped her arms around Fabienne and squeezed her. “Can you stay with us? I’m scared.”

Esther stroked Nancy’s arm. “We can keep each other company,” she said, through staggered breaths.

Fabienne tugged Nancy to her feet. “I will try and get away from work early, or get Mamie sent home.” She helped Esther to stand, and slowly they made their way back to the cottage, Esther coughing every few paces.

***

Johanna had made a list in her head of the items she would ask Gerhard to requisition: cheese, more chocolate, and whatever tinned foods were available. She would have to ask for one or two things every so often and move a little bit at a time, so as not to arouse his suspicions. If he asked questions, she would tell him she was just making sure they had supplies for when he next needed to host important guests. Hopefully he would lose interest and not question her too deeply.

Fabienne’s grandmother had watched her taking the three tins of fruit preserve, a jar of pickles, and half the bag of sugar they had into the wine cellar. Not a word had passed between them.

Johanna remembered the two bars of chocolate left from Christmas that she’d been saving for another special occasion. She ran to her bedroom to fetch them and put them in the cellar. She checked the rat trap and sprung the trap. For all that she detested vermin, she’d seen enough death to last a lifetime. As she started back across the cellar, Fabienne came down the stairs. Johanna flustered as heat flowed to her cheeks. It was difficult to discern Fabienne’s demeanour in the dim light, but she appeared tense.

“Is everything okay?”

Fabienne came to her and stared at her intently. “Did you send Schmidt to search the cottage?”

Johanna’s heart plummeted. “Oh my God, no. I would never do that. What happened?”

Fabienne raised her eyebrows, released a long breath, and rolled her eyes. “He was in the house when I got back. You ordered him to do a search, he said.”

Johanna covered her face with her hand. “Fuck. Did he—” She couldn’t say the words. Her irritation with herself was surpassed by the guilt that had led her to send him outside. Tears formed at the back of her eyes, though not through sadness so much as the frustration and feeling of inadequacy.

“Fortunately Nancy saw him, and they hid.”

“Thank God. I am so sorry. I told him to search the perimeter and fix the gutter. I didn’t tell him to go anywhere near your place.” She looked for some form of acknowledgement from Fabienne, forgiveness even. “I know, it was stupid to send him outside. He caught me snooping in Gerhard’s bedroom.”

Fabienne tilted her head, frowned.

“He receives telegrams all the time. I was hoping I might be able to find something to help you: information or details.”

Fabienne stepped closer, making it hard for Johanna to focus. “And did you find anything?”

Fabienne smelled of fresh air, pine, and Johanna couldn’t stop staring at her full lips. She trembled inside and clasped her hands together to conceal her nervousness. “Um, yes. It’s not much. There was one that said Operation Dijon, 2nd June, 21:00 hours. Do you know what that means?”

Johanna was sure she saw lust in Fabienne’s intense stare. Her cheeks had more colour, and her lips seemed to quiver very subtly. Johanna couldn’t hold back. Driven by a force over which she had no control, she leaned forward and kissed her. Then, realisation struck equally as powerfully and she darted backwards, shocked, and suddenly unsure.

Fabienne came to her and pressed her lips to Johanna’s tenderly. Fabienne touched her cheek and held her head as she deepened the kiss. Johanna drew Fabienne to her, melted at the touch of Fabienne’s tongue, the taste of her, the strength and softness that caressed her heart. She was rising, then falling, lost in the sensations, alive, flying and not wanting to land. Fabienne touched her breast and her nipple, and arousal spiked so fiercely she thought she might cry out. She moaned softly and kissed Fabienne harder.

Too soon and suddenly, Fabienne stopped kissing her, took her hands and stared into her eyes. The longing, the unanswered questions, the reasons that should keep them apart, and the unknown that would determine their fate, remained unspoken. Neither wanted to admit that they were wrong to want each other as they did.

But if the war had taught Johanna anything, it was that life was too short. “I want you,” she said. She leaned her head against Fabienne’s chest, felt her racing heart, enjoyed the warmth of her against her cheek, and allowed herself to dream of a future where they would be together.

“You need to be careful,” Fabienne said.

Johanna eased back, traced the line of Fabienne’s jaw with her fingertip. “With us?”

She couldn’t think about the reality, the difficulties they faced. She was a married German woman, and Fabienne was a French Resistance fighter. They were enemies, their countries were at war, and that was before considering that a relationship between them was not deemed appropriate. Was Johanna deceiving herself? What she wanted wasn’t even possible.

Fabienne shook her head, and her lips curled up a fraction. “That too, but with Schmidt.” She kissed Johanna again, reviving the dream, invigorating her hopes, and Johanna was determined not to let go of what they had without a fight. “Schmidt presents a different kind of danger to Müller. He uses his head rather than muscle.”

Johanna touched Fabienne’s arm gently. “Is it healing well?”

Fabienne twitched, not quite a wince but Johanna could tell she was still bothered by the wound.