Page 42 of A Song in the Dark

chapter Fifteen

What used to be one of her favorite cities was now another reminder that Hitler was on the prowl. Chaisley had hoped for an escape, but no matter how much they tried for normal, reality followed them.

She sat in the auto listening to the sounds of the evening as she and Melanie waited for Dr. Grafton.

Since they’d been here, they’d helped care and transport for more than fifty blind and deaf children.

Some, their parents had abandoned. Some, their parents had been taken away.

And some had been trying to live on their own for months.

Since she and Melanie were relatively safe in France, Rick had asked for a couple days off to take care of some of his SIS work.

He’d said he didn’t want to put them in danger—which only meant that what he set out to do for the SIS was dangerous.

It wasn’t her favorite idea, but they could manage.

Melanie could drive. And Dr. G was bringing the children to them so they’d have his help as well.

Still, it didn’t feel right without Rick here.

What that said about her feelings for him was something she’d have to examine at another time. The crunch of wheels on gravel reached her ears.

A car door shut, then footsteps. “It’s good to see you, Chais.” Dr. G’s rich voice through the open window calmed her insides.

She got out of the car and gave him a big hug. “It’s good to be seen.”

He released her but held her shoulders. “You look weary, my dear.”

“I fear this has taken a toll on me, but we must soldier on and do what we can.”

“Are you certain you are all right?” He was good at prodding.

“I’ll be fine. The work we are doing is more important.”

“Mmhm”—he cleared his throat—“when I see you again in a few days, we’re going to talk about it. Whether you like it or not.”

“I had a feeling you would say that. But for now, we need to get the children to their new home.”

“You win. For now.” His steps accompanied the light laughter she heard from him.

Several moments later, five children were loaded into their car. None of them had any belongings with them whatsoever. They must have had the clothes on their back and nothing else.

“Everyone ready?”

Melanie’s voice came from the driver’s seat.

Yes es echoed through the vehicle, and it slowly moved forward.

When they reached the farm on the outskirts of Paris, Chaisley said a brief hello to the farmer and his wife and hugged each of the kids.

Back in the car, she felt relief that another group was sheltered, but her heart still ached that this was necessary in the first place.

How long could they keep this up?

Leaning her head against the cool glass of the window, she sighed. That was her exhaustion speaking. Not her heart.

Back at their hotel, Melanie parked the car.

“I need some fresh air, Mel.”

“Me too. Want to take a short walk before retiring for the night?”

“That sounds lovely.” Chaisley exited the vehicle and stretched in the cool night air.

They kept a leisurely pace down the sidewalk for a couple of minutes. Mel was probably lost in her own thoughts like Chaisley. The past few weeks had a different feel than ever before. Heavy. Burdensome.

“We’re coming to a corner. Let’s head to the right.”

“Sounds good.” Chaisley nodded.

Thick hands grabbed her arms and slammed her up against a wall.

“Mel?” she squeaked, but a large hand covered her mouth.

“We know who you are.” The voice was gravelly.

Chaisley writhed against her captor, and she could feel Melanie doing the same beside her. Mel’s hand grabbed hers.

“Where did you take those children?”

She was pushed harder into the wall, but with a hand covering her face, she couldn’t have responded even if she wanted to. Were these Gestapo? In France? Certainly they had no power here... did they?

“Well?”

Whoever held Mel must have removed their hand from her mouth because it was her voice next. “What children? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play innocent with me.” Smack! “We’ve been watching you for two days.”

“I’m not playing innocent. I sincerely don’t know what you’re talking about. Perhaps you have us confused with someone else.” How could Mel keep her voice so calm?

The one holding Chaisley loosened his grip. Just a little more and she could cry out for help. She’d heard other footsteps close, surely someone would come to their aid.

When the hand over her mouth relaxed a tiny bit, she bit him. Hard.

Then she screamed for all she was worth.

Whistles blew, and running footsteps approached.

In seconds, her captor was no longer holding her.

Chaisley’s arms ached from the intense grip he’d had on her.

“What’s happening?” she whispered toward Mel.

“The French police are arresting them.”

“ Vous allez bien, mesdemoiselles ?”

“ Merci . A little bruised, but I think we are fine.” Melanie had ahold of her arm. “Let’s get back.”

“Wait. Who were they?”

“Disgusting Nazis,” one of the policemen explained. “They do not belong in our fine city.”

As the two of them walked back to their flat, Chaisley couldn’t stop the shaking that took over. “You don’t think those Nazi spies told their superiors yet, do you?”

“No. You should have seen them. Too eager and wanting to impress. No. Their goal was to parade us into Germany and gain applause. I’m sure of it. We’re almost there.” Mel’s arm around her shoulder was the only thing holding her upright, and the confidence in her words bolstered Chaisley.

“I’m fine. It just shook me up, that’s all.” She straightened. As long as her secret work was safe.

“Don’t lie to me. It scared at least ten years off my life.”

“What on earth were those Nazis doing here?”

“Spying on us, that’s what. They obviously have a presence here, even though most people probably don’t know that. I think we need to tell Dr. G that he needs to be on his guard.”

Friday, September 2, 1938

Melanie took a deep breath, the morning’s conversation running through her mind.

“You ladies need some fresh air. How about a picnic?” Rick’s words had still held tension, even through his forced smile.

“No.” She’d snapped. “Can’t the world see what’s going on? I’m not going to risk Chaisley’s life for a stupid picnic.”

Not only had she practically yelled the words across the room, but she’d said them with such venom that no one said a word for several minutes.

“First, we’re going to have a long overdue chat.” Chaisley moved over and sat closer. “Second, we’re going to go on a stupid picnic. Fresh air and a bit of normalcy will be good for all of us.”

She’d balked. But Chais won. And she’d been correct. They’d spent two hours hashing out their feelings about all that happened, all they’d seen, and the toll it was taking on them emotionally. It had been cleansing.

Mel came to the conclusion that bottling it all up didn’t make her stronger, it didn’t help her ignore it better. It made her hurt worse.

A smile stretched across her face now. Their little trio had gone through a lot together the past months. They’d come to trust one another in a way she’d never trusted anyone else.

Lives were on the line. That changed everything.

They decided to enjoy some time at a café instead of a picnic and made new promises to each other and new routines.

The weight of their underground work and what they faced had bogged them all down until melancholy moods prevailed.

Starting each day with prayer was a wonderful thing, but when the requests were all so dire, it was hard to be positive.

Chaisley suggested they pray together as a team and then sing some uplifting hymns of praise. It had lifted all of their spirits.

Out in the fresh air, Melanie could think straight again.

“I can’t think of anything that smells better than freshly baked bread.

Unless it’s a freshly baked croissant.” She bit into the aforementioned bakery item, flakes falling to her plate.

She closed her eyes, savoring the layers of butter and pastry.

“I agree with you.” Chaisley sighed, dabbing her lips with her linen napkin. “England has many wonderful things about it. But no one does pastries like the French.”

“Or coffee.” Rick took a long sip from his mug.

Melanie let out a chuckle and lifted her cup. “Hear, hear.” She sipped her café au lait. Why did everything taste better in Paris? It wasn’t her first time in the famed city, but each visit seemed to unlock more beauty. More delights. More delicious foods.

Her eyes drifted from their table in the small sidewalk café to the street.

People greeted friends and hailed taxis.

A large flower cart was situated on the corner, filling the air with the scent of hydrangeas and roses.

A trio of women walked past, their chatter and laughter filling the café.

Chaisley must be having a field day hearing French spoken properly.

The language was like a song, lilting and rolling with fabulous flourishes.

While Melanie was fluent, at times the appropriate emphasis on certain vowels and r s in the back of the throat were still a challenge.

“That was a happy sigh.”

Chaisley’s voice drew Melanie from her thoughts. She took another sip before responding. “There’s just something about Paris. The food, the culture, the museums. It’s my favorite city outside of London.”

Chaisley gave her a grin. “It’s good to hear the smile in your voice again, my friend.”

It felt good to smile again. The last few months had taken a toll on all of them. Story after story. Face after face. Though a few had found freedom from Nazi terror, there were still so many who needed their help.

“For such a time as this ...”

The verse echoed through her again, now a part of the fabric of her heart.

Her prayers. Never had she felt so honored to walk alongside others as she did in the work they were doing with Chaisley’s grandmother and Dr. Grafton.

The Lord had been so good to them in the midst of danger and uncertainty.