Page 23 of Hearts of Resistance
She stared at him, wondering if it was a trick. ‘Excuse me?’
‘It’s more of an order. Enjoy.’ And with that he left the room.
Hazel felt as if she was in some sort of dream world. She’d hardly ever had anything alcoholic to drink in her life, and she wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t drink, but it seemed like a test to her.
‘Hello again.’
She glanced back and saw the man she’d travelled up with. For some reason she’d expected to be with other women, even though it had been made clear to her that both men and women were part of the network.
‘Seems we’re supposed to have a stiff drink together,’ he said.
‘I see.’ Hazel sat and watched him cross the room and pour amber liquid into the glasses. When he returned she stood and took one from his outstretched hand, then clinked her glass to his.
‘To being here,’ he said.
‘To being here,’ she replied, and took a small sip. The liquor burnt as it traced a fiery path down her throat and all the way to her stomach, and she tried not to cough.
She almost wanted to tell him that she was engaged, not to get any ideas, but as she bravely took another sip, eyes watering as she swallowed it down, she realised that she wasn’t that girl any more. She wasn’t John’s fiancée, wasn’t waiting for her man to come home and doing her best until then. She wasn’t even trulyHazelany more. From this moment forward she needed to live and breathe her cover story. Today was the beginning of her new life, and there was no way she was going anywhere near the cooler.
She sat down again, reclined and smiled at her companion. They might be enemies for all she knew, which meant that she was about to charm this man and everyone else she came into contact with. She felt alive. For the very first time in her life, she’d chosen to do something, something that wasn’t expected of her, something that no one would ever have expected her to do.
‘What do you think we’re supposed to do here?’ he asked.
She smiled, feeling like an actor on a stage as her character gave her confidence and she breathed life into the person she was set to become.
‘I suppose they want to see if we can hold our liquor,’ she said, shrugging as she confidently took another sip. ‘I’m more used to wine from one of our local vineyards, but this will do.’
He stared back at her, wide-eyed. For a moment she thought perhaps he hadn’t understood her French, and then she realised that he simply hadn’t been expecting the first proper conversation he’d had with her to be in character. They didn’t know who was watching them or what they were being judged on, though, so she wasn’t taking any chances.
‘Were you born in London?’ she asked. ‘I’ve only been here a short while. My parents sent me here to be closer to friends, but all I want is to go back home.’
By the time Ralph returned, she’d already filled her glass again, the burn no longer so bad when she swallowed, her body warm. She could feel her head starting to spin as she stood, the effects of the liquor so much greater when she was on her feet. She was surprised at how well she’d been able to tolerate it so far, although she was certain she’d have a decent headache in the morning. Hazel only hoped she’d done the right thing and the challenge hadn’t been about temptation.
‘We like to see how well you all do under the influence,’ Ralph said. ‘It can make it so much easier to become impulsive and forget one’s legend.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she said with a smile.
‘I want you both to follow me,’ Ralph said, beckoning with his hand. ‘I have some things to show you.’
She followed, the other recruit falling in behind her. They were led into a room that was bare except for a table covered in tools, things that Hazel had never seen before. She took a few deep breaths, trying to block out the effects of the alcohol. She hated the way it had made her head feel woozy, whereas when she’d been seated earlier it had given her more confidence and made her feel like she could do anything.
‘What are these?’ she asked, about to reach out when a stern word stopped her.
‘No.’
She pulled back her hand as if she’d been stung but continued staring at the contraptions.
‘If you were out for the night and having a few drinks, and somehow your cover was blown, you could be captured and taken in for questioning.’
She slowly swallowed and stood up straighter.
‘These are some of the things the Germans might use to get you to talk. For instance, this here,’ he said, holding up a metal object that looked like a tiny guillotine and made her stomach churn, ‘is excellent for taking fingers off. The enemy finds that the more pain they inflict, the more likely their subjects are to tell them everything they need to know.’
Hazel glanced sideways and saw that her drinking partner looked white as a sheet. She was trying her hardest not to let the shock register.
‘And that?’ she asked, her voice sounding shaky even to her own ears as she pointed at an unusual metal device that appeared to be a clamp of some kind.
‘That could be to hold out a tongue or cut it off. But often they’ll just use knives to get what they want.’
