Page 39

B reakfast was a strange affair with Von Schneider present. When the plates had been cleared away, Suzanne served more coffee, and he didn’t seem in any rush to leave. Lizzie was on edge, waiting for the opportunity to check on the airman.

Von Schneider made little grunts as he leafed through Luc’s newspaper.

Raising his head and moving the paper aside, he announced with a look of great satisfaction, ‘Operation Barbarossa is a dazzling success. The Soviet Union is now under Nazi rule, and we are exterminating those filthy Jews. Of course, we’d have to kill all the Russians to rid them of communism, but we must start somewhere. ’

Fury gripped Lizzie, but she willed herself to stay silent, pretending to be absorbed in drinking the remains of her coffee.

He wasn’t addressing her, anyway. In his view, she was but a mere woman and understood nothing of warfare.

It was true that she knew little about traditional war tactics, but she knew a great deal about underground resistance and espionage.

Lizzie decided she would add this Gestapo monster’s name to the SOE list of Nazis who committed heinous crimes. He had talked at length with Luc the previous evening about the Third Reich and how much he admired the Führer’s grand plan.

The desire for vengeance burned in Lizzie’s chest like a raging fire, but she sat at the table as though it were just another regular morning in the chateau.

Luc engaged with Von Schneider with all the skill of a seasoned diplomat. He agreed the invasion of the Soviet Union was a success and spoke a lot without saying much at all. Lizzie realised she had a lot to learn from Luc.

Her eyes moved to Jack as the Gestapo officer addressed him. ‘And what do you think of the progress we’re making?’ he asked.

Jack didn’t hesitate and applauded the German forces as though he were their biggest fan.

‘The skill with which the Wehrmacht, the Kriegsmarine and the Luftwaffe worked in synergy and caught the Soviets off-guard will be written about in the history books for future generations to study. It was a masterful operation.’

‘You are a wise man, monsieur.’ Von Schneider looked gratified by Jack’s praise and resumed reading the newspaper and drinking his coffee.

Lizzie tapped her foot beneath the table and glanced at the clock repeatedly.

The morning was passing, and their guest still showed no signs of leaving.

Eventually, he lay the crumpled newspaper on the table and fixed his gaze on Luc.

‘I should be most obliged if we could take another tour this morning. You were quite right that it was a mistake to go last night. I barely saw anything of the vineyards and the commissaire tells me your grounds are extensive.’

Luc replied if that was his wish, he would be honoured to give him a tour.

His face betrayed no emotion, and Lizzie had to work hard not to show the tension she felt at the thought of the Nazi poking around the chateau grounds in daylight.

Even if he didn’t insist on revisiting the cellars, they were in the vineyards, and she wouldn’t be able to check on the airmen whilst he was liable to appear at any moment.

Lizzie glanced at Jack, who lit a cigarette after offering one to Von Schneider, who declined.

‘Shall we begin our tour?’ the Gestapo officer said.

They stood, Lizzie too, but just as they were about to leave the table, Suzanne entered and whispered something to Luc, who turned to Von Schneider to tell him he had a telephone call. He strode after Suzanne, his figure a tall blur of grey green, to take his call.

A few minutes later, he returned. ‘I’m afraid I will have to cut my delightful visit short.’

Lizzie exhaled slowly, trying not to show the relief that spiralled through her. She hadn’t realised just how tense she was until that moment.

‘Oh dear, that is a terrible shame,’ Luc said. ‘Duty calls, I presume.’

Von Schneider said he was needed urgently in Paris and would cut short his trip, but he would be back.

‘I am most disappointed to have to say farewell so soon after we have become acquainted.’ His steely eyes searched Lizzie’s.

‘The good news is I shall be able to visit St. Malo sooner than I had planned. I am so looking forward to seeing your beautiful city, madame. And I shall endeavour to return to visit you here as soon as my schedule permits.’

Lizzie conjured an amiable smile and said she was sorry he must go and wished him a pleasant trip back to Paris.

The men shook hands, and Von Schneider crossed to Lizzie’s side. ‘Believe me when I say, madame, our conversation was the highlight of my time in Toulouse.’ He fixed his gaze on Jack’s face. ‘You are a lucky man, indeed.’

Jack gallantly agreed that he was, but Lizzie saw a muscle twitch in his jaw, and she guessed he had the same overwhelming urge to punch the smarmy smile off the Nazi’s face that she had experienced the previous night.

They gathered in the courtyard to see Von Schneider off and say their last goodbyes, as his driver appeared, dressed smartly in uniform.

Lizzie had noticed the French veterans working in the Vichy administration still wore military garb.

He had slept in a small room in the staff quarters below stairs.

Lizzie watched him stare at Jack as he limped to the car.

The driver moved the vehicle and struggled to get out quickly to open the door for his esteemed passenger to enter.

Von Schneider eyed him with unconcealed distaste, saluted and snapped, ‘ Heil Hitler.’

The chauffeur raised his right arm and repeated the chant.

The Gestapo officer turned to face them, raised his arm again, and looked at them expectantly.

The hateful words stuck in Lizzie’s throat, but she forced the infamous salutation through her lips. She didn’t dare look at Jack or Luc, but heard the low rumble as they, too, paid homage to the devil.

A memory of seeing the driver before surfaced. His face was vaguely familiar, and she recalled a similar looking military man with a limp. Lizzie sifted through the images in her mind as though watching a movie and trying to place him.

In her training, she had learnt that the ability to recognise faces and connect them to past situations and events could mean the difference between life and death.

Finally, the car edged away, and they watched it turn out of the gates and onto the road.

Lizzie exhaled. ‘My God, I thought he would never leave.’

They agreed he was the most ominous guest any of them had ever had the ill-fortune to endure. Luc asked for an update on the airman and whether the doctor had treated him. His expression was grave when Lizzie told him he was fighting for his life the previous evening.

Jack told Luc he had requested an urgent pickup by plane for that night, and he would contact London again for confirmation shortly.

After collecting a basket prepared by Suzanne, Lizzie once again raced through the gardens and whizzed along the track through the vineyards. The grape-laden vines undulated to a lazy rhythm in the soft breeze, and the scorching sun beat down on her forehead.

All the way, she prayed the airman had stabilised, but the sinking feeling she had felt throughout the night remained with her as she entered the cellar and tapped three times on the wall.