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A t breakfast, they were all weary from lack of sleep. Suzanne appeared, and none of them mentioned the strange events of the night before. It was a stormy morning, and they took breakfast inside rather than on the terrace.

‘Isn’t this weather unusual for summer?’ Lizzie asked, stifling a yawn.

‘The winds are blowing in off the Pyrenees,’ Luc replied. ‘It’ll probably calm down this afternoon.’

The mention of the Pyrenees reminded Lizzie of the airmen and when they could leave for St. Girons.

The sooner the better, she reasoned as she bit into her toast covered in a delicious smearing of home-made strawberry jam.

Every day the airmen stayed on the grounds would endanger all the residents of the chateau further.

Luc slit his correspondence open after finishing his meal and groaned as he read.

Suzanne had already left the room and none of the other staff were present.

‘Is something wrong?’ Lizzie asked.

‘I’m afraid so.’ Luc removed his reading glasses, and swung them in his hand as he looked at Lizzie. He lay the glasses down on the table and pinched his nose, his brow furrowed.

‘You are tired, Luc,’ Lizzie said. ‘Perhaps you should rest this morning, and we can take over any duties you had planned.’

‘That is thoughtful of you,’ Luc said, ‘and I may indeed do as you suggest. It seems we are going to have an unpleasant evening.’

Jack glanced up from his newspaper. He kept an eye on the classified section in case one of his agents was trying to get a message to him. ‘Why, what’s happening this evening?’

‘The commissaire just informed me we must host the dinner for the visiting Gestapo officer he threatened us with when he was here.’

‘And if you refuse?’ Jack queried.

Luc shook his head. ‘I don’t think it’s wise to refuse the head of the local police and his Gestapo sidekick, do you?’

Jack sighed and rested the newspaper to one side. ‘You make a good point.’

‘What time are they coming?’ Lizzie asked.

‘Eight sharp. He says it doesn’t do to keep the Germans waiting.’

‘Goodness, it seems rather rude, bossing you around like that,’ Lizzie said.

‘You’re right, my dear, it does. My childhood friend is taking advantage of our relationship and sees the chateau as an extension of his own hospitality for his Nazi gang.’

Lizzie said, ‘Must we all be here, or is it sufficient for you two to dine with them, do you think? I fear I’ll make another pigeon faux pas and risk exposing us.’

Luc retrieved the letter and read aloud to Lizzie. ‘We look forward to dining with you and your charming relatives. I enjoyed their company so much last time, and Herr Walter Von Schneider is looking forward to making their acquaintance.’

Lizzie sucked in her breath. ‘How will we make it through dinner with a Gestapo thug whilst we have two British airmen hidden in the cellars? Do you think your friend suspects us?’

‘No, my dear. My guess is the commissaire is looking to impress his visitor, that’s all. As long as we all stay calm, everything will be fine,’ Luc said, sounding more confident than his expression portrayed.

‘Talking of the airmen, we’d better see how they are doing,’ Jack said.

Luc replied, ‘I told the crew to work on the other side, so you don’t run into them.’

‘I hate to ask, but can we trust Suzanne?’

Luc nodded. ‘I’d trust her with my life. I spoke to her before breakfast and told her there are things it’s better she doesn’t know for her own safety, but to assist you with anything you need.’

‘And did she seem happy with that?’

‘She seemed rather thrilled by it all, to be honest. You have nothing to worry about in Suzanne. I told her it’s essential she keep this matter to herself, and she swore she would. Actually, she asked if you are in the Resistance and volunteered to help.’

‘Good to know,’ Jack said. ‘That’s an interesting development.’

They formulated their plan, and Lizzie went down to the kitchens to find Suzanne and gather fresh supplies for the airmen.

‘You are still hungry, madame?’ the housekeeper asked when she explained what she needed.

Lizzie said it was for later, and didn’t elaborate.

Suzanne stared at her for a second and then hurried to slice some bread and cheese and extract a pot of jam from the pantry. ‘Shall I put it in a picnic basket?’

Lizzie shook her head. ‘No, thank you. Just wrap it in small packages and I’ll grab my raincoat as it’s still stormy outside. When Lizzie returned, several neat packages awaited her on the kitchen table with a flask of coffee.

‘Thank you so much,’ Lizzie said, scooping up the hastily prepared food and slotting it into her pockets.

How quickly things changed on a mission, Lizzie reflected. Only last night, the housekeeper held a gun to their heads. This morning, Suzanne was helping them. What strange times they lived in.

Jack and Luc had already returned to the vineyards, as they often did after breakfast. They all agreed the more normal they could keep their schedules, the less likely they would attract attention to their guests.

When Lizzie stepped out the door and onto the back steps, the high winds lifted her raincoat, and she buttoned it up to the collar.

If she had worn a hat, it would have blown off her head, such was the force of the wind.

Fortunately, the sideways rain had subsided, but the air was clammy, and the sky was an ominous grey blue.

Thunder and lightning were on the horizon, she guessed.

Lizzie scrambled across the fields as fast as she could, clutching the flask, and as she approached the cellar, she saw Jack standing nearby smoking. He hastily extinguished his cigarette and disappeared into the dark recesses. Several minutes later, panting, she followed him in.

‘There you are. Everything alright?’

‘Seagrove,’ he whispered, flicking on his torch. ‘All as normal.’

‘I’ve got some food,’ she said, and they walked deeper into the musty cavern until they reached the false wall of the secret cellar.

‘Well done. Was Suzanne weird about it?’

‘No, she was helpful. Her discovery of our clandestine activities might be for the best. She could be useful.’

Jack tapped several times on the wall, and when they heard a gruff voice, he opened the door. They entered, and he pulled the door closed behind Lizzie.

‘How was your night?’ Jack asked the airman, who stood to greet them.

‘It’s always night in here,’ he replied.

‘True enough. Sorry about that, but this is the only way we can keep you out of sight.’

‘I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful,’ the airman said.

Lizzie passed the flask of coffee to him and then bent down to the wounded airman. ‘How are you feeling, Billy?’

He grunted in reply.

‘He’s been burning up all night and needs medical attention desperately.’

Lizzie rested her palm on his forehead. ‘Yes, he has a fever.’

Jack knelt beside her. ‘The wound is bleeding through the bandage.’

‘Any news on the doctor?’ Lizzie muttered to Jack.

He shook his head. ‘I’ll go and see if he’s at home and bring him back with me if he’s willing.’

Lizzie worried Jack risked blowing his cover by searching for a Jewish doctor in the village. When they weighed up the risks during mission preparation, Jack decided it was unlikely someone would recognise him after all these years.

The patient writhed and his head jerked from side to side. A pearly coat of perspiration gleamed on his face in the soft light.

Jack stood and signalled to Lizzie to follow him. They moved away from the wounded airman and talked in low voices. Jack said, ‘I’m worried I’ll only make it worse if I remove the bandage. He obviously needs medicine. The question is, will the good doctor have any, even if I can find him?’

‘The sooner we see if he’s there, the better. We’ll need to find a different doctor if not. I should go. I’ll attract less attention than you,’ Lizzie said after a pause.

‘In what world is that true?’ Jack asked, raising one eyebrow.

‘You know what I mean. Suzanne told me she sometimes takes jam and freshly picked fruit to the households with children in the village. Many with big families can barely get by. They’re living on starvation rations, so every bit helps.’

‘Ah, I see. Yes, that makes sense.’ Jack’s tone was reluctant, but Lizzie knew he wouldn’t fight her on it because it made operational sense.

‘I’ll ask Suzanne to come with me and we can do the rounds and drop into the doctor’s house. That way, we shouldn’t raise suspicion.’

The airman’s groans grew louder. Lizzie emptied her pockets and put the produce on a small table. ‘See if you can get him to drink water,’ she told the other airman, who was pacing around the small space.

Outside, the sky had turned gunmetal grey, and the wind had whipped up even further. ‘It’s not ideal weather for making house calls, but that poor man will not make it if we don’t get him help,’ Lizzie said.

They agreed the plan was as good as they could manage in the circumstances and as they rushed back to the chateau, the rain started pelting down like stair rods.

Lizzie bowed her head and pulled her raincoat closer as she shivered from the chilly rain and battering winds.

Jack wore a thin shirt which was already soaked, but he wrapped his arm around Lizzie and tried to shelter her as they hurried along across the uneven ground. The lavender was like a comforting purple sign in the distance, against the dark threatening sky.

‘How different it all looks this morning,’ Lizzie gasped as they pushed through the wind at a punishing pace.

Back at the chateau, they dried off, thankful to be out of the elements.

‘What does a benevolent member of the Saint-Clair family wear to make house calls to the needy of the village in the middle of a massive storm?’ she asked.

‘Wear the outfit we bought you in town last week. That says classy without being over the top.’

Lizzie dressed in the new clothes she’d bought with a combination of coupons and francs. It wasn’t smart to flash too much cash around. ‘How do I look?’ She turned to Jack.

‘Beautiful. Like always. But wait,’ he said, crossing the room and returning with something behind his back. ‘You swapped places to protect me, but endangered yourself. If it wasn’t a smart cover story, I wouldn’t go along with it.’

Lizzie smiled. She guessed the switch wouldn’t go unnoticed. ‘What are you hiding behind your back?’

He produced her yellow silk scarf with a flourish. ‘Ta-da, you’re not going without this.’ He tied it around her neck and swivelled her around to admire the effect in the tall mirror. ‘Perfect.’

‘It goes well with the outfit.’ Lizzie touched the scarf. ‘I always feel lucky when I wear this. Thank you for bringing it.’

They made final arrangements, and Lizzie reached up to kiss Jack. ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’

He held her tight against his chest, and she felt his lips brush her hair before he slowly released her. ‘Take care, Seagrove. If anything unusual happens, cut your rounds short and come straight back. That’s an order from your commanding officer!’

‘How will I know what’s unusual when I’ve never been there before?’ she queried, a wicked glint in her green eyes.

‘You’ll know. Watch Suzanne and take her lead.’

Lizzie promised she would be extra careful. ‘What will you do whilst I’m gone?’

‘I’ll sit down with Luc and run through potential avenues of escape for the airmen, so we anticipate any eventuality.’

Downstairs, Jack released Lizzie’s hand, and they went in separate directions, both looking back until they could no longer see each other.

Lizzie searched for Suzanne, and Jack went to see if Luc was in his favourite spot in the library. Events were unfolding fast, and the mission was in full swing. Lizzie tried to calm her fears, but she was anxious about the fate of the British airmen, especially Billy, the feverish one.

The timing to host a Gestapo officer for dinner could not be worse.