Page 25

The young woman had been delivered to the barge in the wee hours before dawn – a small, dark-haired woman, a research scientist called Rachel, who had been spirited out of Germany by friends in the dead of night and who, with the grace of God, and help from the network of Resistance volunteers, might one day find refuge in Belgium.

Mam had taken the girl in, fed her soup and tea, and persuaded her to sleep for a while, huddled under blankets in the hold. Now, at close to eleven in the morning, she was explaining to Rachel her plan to move her downriver when a knock sounded at the door.

Evi froze at the sound of the knock, and the young woman, Rachel, jumped nearly out of her skin, her dark eyes as big as saucers.

“Who is there?” Mam asked.

“Hallo, Lotte, it is I – Mila. ”

Evi exchanged a glance of relief with Mam. She touched Rachel’s arm. “Not to worry,,” she assured her, opening the door. “Mila is with the Resistance.”

Mila glanced at the three of them, quick to understand “I am so sorry,” she said. “I did not mean to frighten you. I just – we need your help, Evi, if you can.”

Mam, who was pulling an extra sweater over the young woman’s head, watched warily.

Mila wasted no time. “Zoe Visser needs help at the pet kliniek . The Germans have seized Daan Mulder. They broke into the klineik this morning and left it in ruins. I am on my way there now, and I hoped you might come along to help.”

It was not what Evi expected.

“Of course,” she said finally. She turned to Mam, whose hands covered her face. “I expect I will be back here, Mam, by the time you return. If not, please do your best not to worry.”

She touched the shoulder of the young scientist. “Rachel,” she murmured. “God speed.”

“Mila, take my bicycle if you like,” Lotte called. “Be careful – and please tell Zoe my prayers are with her – and with Daan.”

Evi grabbed her coat and the blue knit cap with the yellow butterfly. She followed Mila out onto the wharf and opened the shed to retrieve the bicycles.

...

They were halfway to the kliniek , pedaling in tandem, when they were stopped at a makeshift checkpoint. Two young German guards, faces inscrutable under their combat helmets, looked them over slowly. One muttered something in rapid German.

The other snickered, then raised his rifle. “Papers!”

Evi put a foot on the ground to steady her bicycle and held one hand up as she reached under her coat for her papers. She saw Mila’s mouth tighten as she reached into her bag .

The soldiers took their time examining their identification papers, looking up, looking down, peering from one to the other, a running commentary between them in rapid German. Something in their tone put Evi in mind of the German who had tried to rape her.

One of the men stepped forward. “Where are you going?” he asked in passable Dutch.

“To the Dans Hal,” Mila said calmly. “It is time for us to begin the new decor. Dutch Carnival begins soon.”

Another exchange between the soldiers, both looking faintly amused as they circled slowly, examining the two of them from every angle.

Evi held her tongue, her anxiety rising, but Mila’s expression turned from annoyance to amusement.

To Evi’s surprise, Mila inclined her head in the flirtatious manner she had worked so hard to teach Evi.

She said a few words in German that Evi could not decipher, and the young soldiers looked up in unison.

Muttering something, they handed back their papers and retreated.

“ Danke,” said Mila grandly, tucking her papers into her shoulder bag, already beginning to pedal off.

Evi followed, pedaling fast to catch up.

“What did you tell them?” She asked when she reached her.

“Nothing of consequence,” Mila said, looking straight ahead. “I suggested I could report them to a high-ranking officer who is a personal friend, and they suddenly lost interest in the pair of us.”

ZOE

Zoe sat cross-legged on the floor, willing her breath to slow. The silence in the room was palpable. She was angry, bitter, alarmed, and tearful, surveying the ruins the Germans had left behind.

Were they apt to return? Lieve god , where was Daan? What had put him in the Nazis’ crosshairs ?

She thought of Jozef Haan, the farmer who had not surfaced since the night of the train blast. Could he have betrayed Daan to save himself? Was it something in the bag that was lost to her at the road block?

Hot tears sprang to her eyes. She brushed them away and looked at the mess around her.

She was getting to her feet, slowly, cautiously, when the ring of the telephone pierced the silence. She stepped over a pile of books, reluctant at first to answer, then struggled to muster her most professional voice. “Mulder pet kliniek . May I help you?”

The tears spilled over when she heard Pieter’s voice. Help was on the way , he told her. The Resistance, the entire nation, owed her a debt of gratitude ….

Zoe mopped tears with the hem of her skirt.

A moment later, she took a shuddering breath and tried to focus on the task at hand. She was gathering papers, sorting themt into piles that made sense, when she heard women’s voices at the back door.

“Zoe, lieve god, ” Evi rushed into the room the moment it was unlocked. “They did not hurt you?”

Mila Brouwer, right behind her, opening her arms and folded Zoe into them.

Zoe let herself go weak. She allowed herself a moment to be rocked and sheltered. She was too spent to protest.

Evi joined them in a three-way hug, and they swayed, the three of them, in silence.

MILA

It was past four when they stopped to rest and survey the what they had managed to accomplish. There were still piles of paperwork for Zoe to sort and return to the files, but the reception area was cleared, the furniture righted, the books mostly back on their shelves .

Mila stretched, arching her back. “ Een fluitje van een cent!” she announced grandly . A piece of cake!

Zoe and Evi, sprawled, exhausted, on waiting room chairs, smiling wanly at her attempt at humor.

“If you have a piece of cake,” she implored, “please pass it over! I am starving!”

Zoe sighed, “I do not know how to thank you both. Imagine if Daan were to come back to such a shambles…”

Mila and Evi exchanged glances.

Mila sat on the rug in front of them. “Did you know, Zoe, that Evi, too, has been working for the Resistance?”

“I did,” said Zoe. “She came to me not long ago asking for shooting lessons and a weapon. I have not yet had the opportunity to ask, but I promised to take the request to Daan or Pieter.”

Mila’s eyebrows rose. “A weapon and shooting lessons! Why, Evi?”

Evi’s chin rose. “I owe my life to the American airman who happened to pass by that night when I was fighting off that Nazi rapist at the tavern. If I am to do this sort of thing again, Mila, or anything like it, I want to be able to protect myself.”

Mila was aghast. “This is the first I have heard of your being rescued that night by anyone – much less an American soldier. Where were the Resistance shooters?”

“In the woods, waiting, I suppose. But my attacker moved – more quickly than we expected, and the bodyguards were a few hairs too late.”

It was something Mila had not foreseen. “I will talk to Pieter,” she said finally. “But, Evi, you are young for firearms…”

Evi raised her chin. “If I am old enough to lure Nazi officers to their death,” she muttered, “I am old enough to learn to handle a pistol.”

Zoe heaved a sigh. “And I as well, I suppose, although the very idea of it makes me shudder. But I have found myself more than once facing into a German firearm.” She paused.

“I am willing to do anything to help end the suffering…and Evi is right. We need to have the means and be well prepared to defend ourselves. ”

Mila considered. “How old are you, Zoe?”

“I was twenty-four last August.”

“Then I will take you to a shooting range myself – and Evi, I will take this up with Pieter.”

Evi said nothing.

Mila took it as approval. “It is getting late,” she said, looking out of the kliniek window at the gathering dusk. She scrambled to her feet. “And it seems there are more check points now than ever. We had best be on our way if we are all to be home before curfew.”

The front door was splintered where the Germans had pounded on it. Zoe checked the lock to be sure it held. Then she led the way to the back door.

“Evi, may I take your mam’s bicycle home,” Mila asked, “I will return it tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

Mila looked for a moment at their strained faces. “Hope,” she whispered.

“Hope,” they echoed.

Another three-way hug, long and heartfelt.

They hopped up on their bicycles and pedaled into the settling twilight.

EVI

“I have business to attend to this morning,” Evi told her mother. “I will not be long.”

Lotte looked at her strangely. “Business?”

Mam had been edgy since her last trip downriver. She had been able to pass Rachel, the young research scientist, to her next handler without incident, but she had felt, she told Evi, an eerie sense that it had not been entirely without notice .

Evi had pressed for more, but Mam had shrugged it off, saying only that she had no wish to stop aiding Resistance efforts, any more than did her daughter.

“Well, then,” she said now, “this is something I have to do, Mam. “I will be home soon.”

...

It had sleeted the night before, and it was rudely cold. Snowflakes melted on her tongue as she mounted her bicycle. Watching for Nazi checkpoints, Evi pedaled to the Beekhof farm. She looked once, then again, in all directions before pedaling up the narrow driveway.