Page 19

J ack entered the garage where the old Peugeot stood next to Luc’s pride and joy, which, to his knowledge, had not been driven since they arrived.

He admired the smooth lines of the vehicle and wished he could drive it now.

One day, they would take it for a spin, but it might need to wait until after the war.

After washing away his toil from the vineyards and eating a lunch Suzanne served for him and Luc, Jack dressed in one of his uncle’s suits. It wasn’t the height of Paris fashion, but as the war progressed, clothes were shabbier as rations grew sparser and people made do.

Jack parked the rusty old car on a side street near the river and walked to the Café de Paris where they had met Lev the previous evening.

In an ideal world, he wouldn’t rush their friendship and would let it develop slowly, but nothing about this situation was ideal.

The message from Val had been a call to arms that they had to establish an escape route now.

The longer the airmen were in hiding, the greater the risk a collaborator would inform on them, and they would be arrested or executed.

Lev waited in the dimly lit bar, which offered a welcome respite from the harsh afternoon sunshine. Jack paused before approaching him, scanning the area and checking they weren’t being watched.

Lev was wiry and olive skinned, and his lips curved into the ghost of a smile when he spotted Jack. ‘Hello, it’s good to see you again. What can I get you?’

He ordered Jack a beer from the barman, who he seemed to know well. When they both had drinks, Lev suggested they move to a table in the corner and Jack followed him.

Lev offered Jack a cigarette, and they smoked in an oddly peaceful silence, considering they barely knew each other.

Jack said, ‘Is Marguerite a close friend of yours?’

Lev drew on his cigarette, his sharp cheekbones casting shadows over his face. Jack got the impression Lev hadn’t considered the question before.

After a pause, he replied, ‘We are colleagues more than close friends. But she’s smart and I trust her. Why do you ask?’

Jack took a swig of beer and contemplated Lev. ‘I’m curious, that’s all. She seemed keen for us to meet, and I wondered why.’

Lev nodded. ‘She’s a sociable sort. I suppose she thought we might have shared interests.’

‘That’s what she said. Do you think that might be the case?’

Lev sighed and met Jack’s eyes. ‘I don’t think we have time to waste, so I’ll be straight with you, Michel.

Marguerite said she made it clear she was against the Vichy regime, and you and your wife seemed sympathetic.

That’s why she connected us up. She said there was something special about you, and I should get to know you. ’

Jack’s eyes narrowed as he appraised Lev. ‘Ah, I see. And how is getting to know me going so far?’

Lev cleared his throat. ‘Pretty good. You seem like a good guy.’

‘So, am I to understand you are also against the Vichy regime?’

‘You could say that,’ Lev said, sweeping his eyes around the bar as if he was used to being permanently on guard.

‘What else could I say?’

‘You could say we’re doing what we can to stop these traitors from completely selling us out to the Nazis, whilst pretending they have France’s best interests at heart.’

Jack nodded, encouraged. Lev was saying all the right things, but could he trust him? ‘Do you have other contacts who share your convictions?’

‘I might,’ Lev replied, his tone wary. ‘I’ve told you a lot about me. Now I’d like to know more about you and your wife.’

That was a massive exaggeration, but Jack let it go.

‘What would you like to know?’ he asked, his voice a low, deep rumble.

‘I’d like to know what you’re really doing here,’ Lev said, grinding the stub of his cigarette in an ashtray until the smoke fizzled out.

‘ The wine business is difficult in St. Malo with the occupation, so we relocated to the chateau to assist my relative, Monsieur Saint-Clair.’

‘You must know a lot about wine.’

Jack blew a smoke ring above his head and let the comment hang between them. Sometimes, the best counter was to say nothing at all. It had been a while since he’d operated in enemy territory to recruit new agents. Since the war, he’d been largely confined to Baker Street, much to his irritation.

On occasional emergency missions, he had gone into France to back up Lizzie, but they had worked with existing contacts.

When Hannah left Paris, the Liberty Network was put on hold, and instead Val cultivated fledgeling Resistance cells to gain intelligence via radio transmissions.

The SOE was sprouting lots of seeds and growing at an impressive rate throughout the occupied territories.

This was when Val declared it was time for them to duplicate their efforts in the South.

The thrill of being in action again instead of stuck at HQ recruiting and training was a heady experience.

‘If there’s something you want to know, I suggest you be more specific, and I’ll do my best to put your mind at ease.’

Lev took a sip of his drink and replaced his glass on the table. He raised his eyes to meet Jack’s without hesitation. ‘Very well. Are you someone with the resources to help us weaken the enemy, or are you more interested in joining us?’

‘I think we may be able to help each other,’ Jack replied after a few beats.

‘Is there something you can tell me to show I can trust you?’ Lev asked, dancing strategically around the target like an expert fencer.

Jack rubbed his fingers over his chin. He hadn’t had time to shave before joining Luc for their vineyard tour that morning. ‘What sort of information do you want?’ He joined the dance with an elegant parry.

Lev knocked back the last of his drink. ‘How can you help us?’

Jack leaned forward, and his voice was barely a murmur. ‘I belong to an organisation that can help you significantly if you’re serious about sabotaging the enemy. I’m talking training, support and equipment to build a formidable Resistance network.’

Lev straightened his shoulders and said, ‘I fought in the war, you know. I don’t need training.’

‘Everybody needs training for this,’ Jack said with an air of confidence that wasn’t lost on Lev.

‘We’re a raggle-taggle bunch, but we’re serious. Word has it some networks in other cities are better equipped.’

‘The word is correct,’ Jack said, offering Lev a cigarette and lighting his own.

Lev said. ‘I’ve been on the lookout for someone like you who can work with us to expand. That’s why Marguerite sent you my way.’

Jack ran his hand through his thick, black hair. ‘Before we go any further, I’d appreciate if you tell me a bit about your background and why you are motivated to weaken the regime?’

Lev nodded and rested against his chair as if he too had decided to trust Jack.

Then he began talking and his voice was weighted with melancholy.

‘My siblings and I were born here in Toulouse. It’s all I’ve ever known—until the war.

My mother and father were born in Toulouse.

My mother’s family goes back generations in this region.

I’m Jewish—both my parents are French Jews who have been loyal to France. ’

Jack listened, observing Lev carefully.

Lev shook his head as he continued, as if he couldn’t quite believe his own words. ‘You’ve heard of these heinous anti-Jewish laws? My parents’ shop was ordered to close by the Vichy government. My mother still clutches onto the hope that it’s all a mistake and things will return to normal.’

‘What’s happening is terrible,’ Jack said.

Lev examined his hands. ‘My paternal grandparents were driven out of Baghdad by persecution under the Ottoman Empire. They wished to emigrate to the Land of Israel, but that was occupied by the Ottomans, so they settled in France in search of a peaceful life.’

Lev glanced at Jack and continued. ‘When I was a boy, they told me wonderful stories about their ‘lost paradise’, and how they loved to swim in the Tigris River. There was a vibrant Jewish diaspora in Iraq all the way back to the 6th century BCE since the Babylonian exile of my people from Judea.’

Jack nodded, not wanting to interrupt Lev’s chain of thought. It was at times like these, Resistance members revealed their true motivations, which was invaluable to the SOE.

‘As you may imagine, this new reality devastated my grandparents, most of all because they can predict the outcome if we don’t stop these tyrants. They will lose their paradise all over again.’

Jack had assessed Lev twice now, and his instincts told him he was the real deal.

He could see and hear his heartfelt story was genuine and, in a way, it reminded Jack of when he recruited Hannah in France before the war.

She and Lev were from different countries, but both Jewish, and their stories of persecution had a similar tragic echo.

Jack trusted his instincts more than information, and in that moment, he knew he would trust Lev.

This was how he had recruited his best agents for Military Intelligence, and he applied his experience to spotting and recruiting Resistance members in London.

Some came from contacts he already had, but that didn’t necessarily make them suitable.

If anything, it made him more likely to go easy on them, so he always relied on his instincts, and they hadn’t been wrong yet.

He thought back to his first meeting with Lizzie, and how he’d turned her away. Even in the beginning, he had wanted to protect her. She was so young and innocent, the thought of dropping her into occupied France had made his stomach churn.

‘There are a few of us,’ Lev said, interrupting Jack’s thoughts.

‘Are they reliable?’ Jack asked. Now he was in his home territory, and he asked Lev more questions to assess what raw materials they had at their disposal. It turned out there was more to Marguerite than he had been led to believe. He wasn’t surprised—she’d been sharp from the start.

‘It was Marguerite who approached me first about creating some kind of organised Resistance group. She has a contact who is experienced. Unfortunately, he’s no better equipped than us, but he’s been helping Jews to escape across the Pyrenees for some time.’

Jack’s ears pricked up, and he felt a tingle run down his spine. This mysterious man sounded like exactly the type of agent he wanted to recruit. ‘Don’t worry about supplies. I can handle that. Who is this contact?’ He asked casually, as if it wasn’t overly critical, and he was merely curious.

But Lev was shrewd and showed no signs of being a pushover.

‘I can’t give you more details. I’m already risking our lives telling you all this.’

‘You’re not risking your lives. You can trust me, but I understand. All in good time. We’ve made promising progress for today.’ Jack glanced at his watch and stood to leave. He’d learnt it was always best to leave first and not be too eager when sounding out a new agent.

Lev looked startled, but stood and shook Jack’s hand. ‘When shall we meet again? I’m keen to move things forward.’

‘Me too. I’ll leave a message for you with Marguerite.’

Jack placed some francs on the table in front of Lev. ‘For our drinks and get yourself a good meal. You look like you could do with it.’

Lev thanked him and Jack exited casually onto the street as if he hadn’t just recruited their first Resistance leader in the Free Zone.

Jack walked across the Place du Capitole, his eyes searching everywhere for Lizzie. He walked around again to be sure she wasn’t there. Of course, she could be inside a café sheltering from the sun, but it was unlikely. She enjoyed sitting outside.

Was she still in the city? He was more worried about letting her go alone than he cared to acknowledge, even to himself.

It was one thing worrying about her when he was in London and could do little but wait for a message, but here it was a different story.

He knew he must give her freedom to follow her own instincts, but God, it was hard to exercise his self-control.

It was the hardest thing he had ever had to do.

Watching her cycle away from him earlier made his pulse race and crushed his chest until he could barely breathe.

The feelings of love he had for her were overwhelming, and the combination of trying to protect her and wanting her to flourish were crippling.

He swung the car into the chateau grounds, all the while scanning the area for Lizzie.

Had she made it back yet? There was no sign of her on the journey up the hill and his mouth was dry at the thought of what might have happened.

He decided he would see if she was inside and, if not, he would go back out immediately and look for her.

His patience had come to an end for one day.

Jack parked the car and headed towards the chateau.

Then he had a thought and turned around.

If she was here, she would have put the bicycle back.

With his heart booming in his chest like a schoolboy in love, he strode across the courtyard and stood in front of the shed.

Reaching his hand out, fear spiralled through him as he pulled the handle.

There stood the old bicycle. Waves of relief washed over him, and he berated himself for panicking, and for the stupid smile that creased his face.

Knowing Lizzie was safe was the best thing in the world.