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Jack cursed under his breath as he shifted against the pillows on the hospital bed. When he settled, he said to Lizzie, ‘Do you think it will be a smooth collaboration between Lev and Hannah?’

‘I’d say so. Did you not notice how mesmerised he was by her?’

‘No, I can’t say I did, but I hope they will make a good team.’

Lizzie laughed. ‘Everyone’s mesmerised by Hannah.’

‘That’s true,’ Jack said. ‘Although you thought I was besotted with her when we first met. Lev might just, like me, be impressed by her ability to get the job done. Angel has become a legend in the Resistance.’

‘I have a feeling there’s more to it than that. He usually barely smiles, but he was bewitched. And that’s with her dressed as a man! Goodness knows what effect she’ll have on him, when he sees how gorgeous she is.’

‘Poor Henry,’ Jack said, his voice glum. ‘It would destroy my brother if he lost her.’

‘Emotions run high in wartime, and it’s easy to understand why people snatch whatever happiness they can in the moment, but Hannah is focused on getting people out of France.

She loves Henry, and I doubt she has time for romantic liaisons, anyway.

The poor love is always on the run. Imagine what it’s like to be permanently undercover in France, not in and out for short periods like us. ’

‘It’s madness. I’ve tried to get her out, but you know how stubborn she is.’

‘She’s the most courageous person I’ve ever met,’ Lizzie said. ‘And she won’t be stopped. The Lavender Network will be a force of nature.’

‘I hope her bond with Henry is enough to sustain them through these years of barely seeing each other,’ Jack said, still thinking of his brother flying with the RAF.

A red-headed, cheerful nurse with freckles appeared, reminding Lizzie of her sister, Evie.

‘Will I live?’ Jack asked the nurse with a cheeky smile.

‘I daresay, although that’s a nasty wound. You’re going to have to take it easy for quite some time. And I’ll not ask how you got it!’

‘Mum’s the word. Loose tongues cost lives,’ Jack said, tapping his nose.

‘Who knows how I’ll keep busy when this war is over,’ she said, and bustled off with a smile, promising to return with tea and biscuits.

A FANY driver dropped Lizzie outside her house at Regent’s Park after she had changed into her uniform and been debriefed at Baker Street. She raised her hand to knock, excited but a little nervous to see her family.

Violet, their housekeeper, opened the door, and a delighted smile spread across her face. ‘Your mother is going to be over the moon,’ she said, ushering Lizzie inside. ‘No case?’

Lizzie shook her head. ‘It was in the other vehicle.’

Violet didn’t seem suspicious, but the innocent question reminded Lizzie how easy it was to slip up. They left Toulouse so suddenly they couldn’t take their cases, so it would be up to Luc to hide them.

‘Lizzie, darling! Why do you never give us any notice?’ Rose ran to her daughter and almost squeezed the air out of her with her tight hug.

Lizzie laughed. ‘I can go and come back later if you’d prefer.’

‘You know I didn’t mean that. It’s just unnerving how you pop up out of nowhere, but I’m delighted you’re home.’

‘How are you, Ma?’ Lizzie asked.

‘I’m fine. How about a cup of tea and a piece of Violet’s new war cake? It’s just out of the oven.’

‘I haven’t heard of war cake, but I’ll definitely give it a go,’ Lizzie said, following her mother into the drawing room.

‘The rations make it almost impossible to make a good cake, but Violet is so clever with the ingredients, she always produces something tasty.’

Violet brought them tea and cake and Lizzie marvelled at how quickly she had transformed from being Isabelle Dubois to Lizzie Beaumont.

Lizzie ate the cake and enjoyed a cup of English tea, whilst she did her best to answer her mother’s questions about her time away, without revealing the truth.

‘Evie is training to be a nurse, and says she’s found her vocation. She should be home any minute,’ Rose said, glancing at the clock.

Lizzie breathed a cautious sigh of relief that she’d passed her mother’s interrogation. Soon the other family members trickled in and there were hugs all round.

When Lizzie’s father entered the room and saw her sitting there, he dropped his briefcase and scooped her up in his arms.

‘Anyone would think she’d been fighting on the Western Front, the way you carry on when she comes home,’ Rose said, smiling.

Lizzie and her father exchanged a discreet look. He was the only member of her family who knew she had been on a mission. Lizzie thought it must be hardest on him when she was away.

Rose continued, ‘A few days ago, I had a nightmare that something bad happened to you. Your captain was with you, but then I woke up.’

Lizzie said, ‘Just as well, but I don’t know why you insist on calling him my captain! He’s my commanding officer, Ma.’

Rose looked at her in that discerning way all her children were familiar with, as if she could read their minds. ‘Anyway, you’re home now, thank God. I shall say no more about it.’

‘Over dinner that evening, the chatter was boisterous and incessant. Evie and Juliette found nothing strange about Lizzie being away for extended periods. They plied her with their latest news as if she’d been away on holiday, not undercover on a deadly mission, dining with the Gestapo.

Lizzie longed to tell Evie about the red-haired nurse who seemed like a good omen for her nursing career, but she stopped herself just in time.

There was no reasonable excuse for her to have been in a hospital with Jack, waiting for him to be released.

As far as her family knew, she’d been working with the FANYs, and had come straight home.

So much of her life must remain secret, and her transition from Michel Dubois’s wife to Lizzie Beaumont was brutal in its speed.

She wondered how Jack was feeling and wished she could see him at his flat.

Lizzie sighed. If she went out again this evening, they would find it odd, and her mother was already suspicious enough about her relationship with Jack.

She would have to wait until tomorrow. His wound wasn’t serious, but he needed to rest. He would be fine, but she missed him so much.

Lizzie told herself she was being dramatic and suggested to her sisters they play board games.

Soon they were laughing and shouting like old times, until tears of laughter streamed from her eyes.

It was good to be home.

At Baker Street a few days later, Lizzie was working at her desk when Val entered.

‘We received a message from your new agent, Heart.’

That was Lev’s chosen codename. He had told her his name meant Heart in Hebrew.

‘What did he say?’ Lizzie asked, praying it was good news.

‘He used Angel’s codes, so she must have trained him.’

‘Yes, they received the radio in the supply drop, but we had no time to set up a system with him. Thank goodness Hannah was there.’

The message said the driver and the informant will not be a problem, and they will monitor names from the notebook. All other loose ends are tied. Angel delivered the package to St. Girons. Whatever that means,’ she said, fixing a hard stare on Lizzie.

‘What a relief. There was so much to clean up after we had to fly out unexpectedly like that.’

‘And what was the package?’ Val asked.

‘Hannah came to drive the airmen to the border, but obviously plans changed by the time she arrived. It would have been a wasted journey, so she smuggled out the doctor who treated the airman.’

Val’s expression was glum. ‘Jewish?’

Lizzie nodded. ‘The statutes are just as oppressive under the Vichy regime as they are in Nazi occupied territory.’

Val didn’t reply. Later that day, when Lizzie filed the copy of her superior’s report, she noticed there was no mention of Angel’s extracurricular activities.

Some things were better left unsaid.

Lizzie let herself into Jack’s flat with her key and shook her umbrella in the hall.

The rain was coming down hard, and it reminded her of the storm at the chateau.

It was a shame she’d had to leave her reversible raincoat behind.

Perhaps it would be waiting for her one day when they visited Luc after the war.

Jack heard her enter and called out from the bedroom.

She ran to the bed and leaned down to hug him. He groaned.

‘Oh sorry, darling, does it still hurt? I’ll have to remember to be gentle with you whilst you recuperate.’

‘I’ll be good as new soon. Sore, that’s all.’

Lizzie said she’d brought him a piece of war cake from home to cheer him up. ‘My mother calls you my captain , you know.’

Jack rolled his eyes. ‘She’s not wrong. I am lost when you’re gone. It’s strange without you beside me at night.’

‘For me too. Takes me ages to fall asleep. Still, at least there were no bloody air raids to deal with.’

‘Yes, the Boche seem to have laid off London. The Blitz stopped whilst we were away.’

‘All okay with your mother?’ Lizzie asked.

A shadow crossed Jack’s face. ‘I called her, and she sounded fine.’

‘Will you tell her you saw Luc?’

Jack lit a cigarette. ‘I wish I could, but I’d be breaking the Official Secrets Act.’

Lizzie sat beside Jack on the bed and studied his face as her emotions collided. His muscled bare chest was bronzed from working in the vineyards, and his shoulder was bound. ‘You look like a wounded soldier.’

‘I’m fine. How are you?’

‘The end of the mission was a whirlwind. It could have gone very differently. I keep thinking about how I could have lost you.’

‘I think he intended only to wound me so he could take me alive. British spies posing as French citizens and related to Luc Saint-Clair. We would have been a big catch for the Vichy regime. More valuable alive than dead.’

‘Ah, that makes sense. He wanted to be the hero and impress the commissaire and the Gestapo bully.’

A vision of the dying veteran flashed in front of her eyes.

‘I know that look. What’s troubling you, darling?’ Jack said as he studied her face.