Page 47 of Hearts of Resistance
Hazel knelt beside the sofa, reaching to touch his forehead. He was clammy, and she worried that he had an infection. There was not much more they could do for him, and right now it was only the two of them in the house. Alone.
‘Water,’ he croaked.
She reached for the water she had nearby and used her other hand to help prop his head up so he could take a sip.
‘Just a little. You don’t want to flood your body with too much,’ she said, letting him take another sip before putting the glass back down and helping to ease him back. She hesitated, then pushed some hair back from his forehead. ‘How are you feeling now?’
He made a noise deep in his throat that she guessed was supposed to sound like a chuckle. ‘Like I’ve been in a plane crash.’
It was Hazel laughing now, shaking her head at him. ‘You’re obviously doing fine if you can make jokes.’ She waited, looking down at him, embarrassed that her body heated at the way he stared back at her. She hoped he couldn’t see her hot red cheeks, because she knew they would be exactly that and she was embarrassed – she wasn’t the kind of girl to go all weak-kneed over a handsome man!
‘You never did tell me why you’re here,’ he said, the huskiness of his voice slowly clearing as he spoke. ‘What are three women doing here alone? Weren’t you going to tell me?’
She smiled. ‘All you need to worry about is getting better, and the fact that you’re lucky you were found by us and not the Germans.’
‘I know how lucky I am,’ he said, before groaning as he shifted position, trying to move from his back to his side. ‘Trust me, I know.’
Hazel held out an arm for him to grasp and attempted to help him. He hissed out a breath and she winced, knowing what pain he was in.
‘Do I have any hope of getting out of France?’ he asked, looking into her eyes without breaking the gaze. ‘And don’t go sugarcoating it. I want the truth.’
She didn’t want to lie, but it was part of her job now. She’d been taught to maintain her legend to get where she needed to get and do what she needed to do, and she could see no difference here. She needed to keep him calm and not give anything away about what they were doing.
‘We’ll do everything we can to help you,’ she told him honestly. ‘I don’t know what else I can tell you, but there are some very friendly locals in the area, people who’d do anything to help someone like you.’
‘I’ve heard about the Resistance movement, we all have,’ he said, looking more comfortable, the vein that had been bulging in his forehead almost completely disappeared now. ‘Do they operate around here? Is that why you said the locals are so friendly?’
Hazel refused to react, kept her smile fixed, made sure she didn’t panic as she calmly breathed. It was good extra training for her, not letting her eyes give her away. ‘I’ve heard about them, too, but the locals I’ve met are simply good families, women who worry about their own sons who haven’t made it home. They only want to help, and I’m certain they’d shelter you and help you on your way if they had to.’
He nodded, seeming to believe her. She quickly changed the conversation, not wanting him to ask her any more about it.
‘Tell me about home. Do you have brothers? Sisters?’ She smiled, moving to sit across from him.
‘I had a brother,’ he said, looking away, making her wish she hadn’t asked. ‘The first thing I thought, when I was shot down and I knew my plane was history, was that my mother wasn’t going to have a child left.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Hazel whispered, the room suddenly feeling terribly silent. ‘There are so many families losing their sons, so many women losing their husbands. Every loss is heartbreaking.’
‘I’m the younger one,’ Harry continued, his dark eyes finding hers again, somehow making her feel warm, the silence of the room less painful when he wasn’t gazing at the ceiling or at a spot past her head. ‘He was always the sensible one, the smart one, the confident one. And now there’s only me.’
Hazel didn’t reply because there was nothing she could say to ease his pain and she didn’t want to pretend there was. She only wished that she could tell him what she’d been through to get here, what she’d volunteered to do in an effort to make a difference in this war.
‘You were lucky to get out of your plane alive,’ she said, curious about how he’d managed to end up alive and on the ground. ‘Will you tell me what happened?’
‘I was hit but I was coherent – I hadn’t been hurt then – so I jettisoned the canopy and unbuckled my belts, and detached my radio and oxygen supply,’ he said quietly. ‘I only had a split second, so I did a half barrel roll and just fell straight out of the cockpit. All I could think was that my parachute might not work, but I could feel it there. I had to believe in it, and I was a dead man if I didn’t anyway.’
She nodded, chewing the inside of her mouth as she listened, feeling the fear within her, the churn of her stomach, recalling the similar experience she’d had. His eyes had come to life as he’d told his story, his lips curving into a smile as he shook his head and laughed.
‘I still can’t believe it worked,’ he said with a chuckle.
‘You were lucky to land where you did. To get out of there alive.’
‘I was damn unlucky to hit some tree branches on my way down, though,’ he continued. ‘I got the worst of my injuries from hitting them. My parachute seemed to work but then I got caught and I fell from the trees. It felt like days, maybe it was hours, crawling further away from all the evidence, and some stroke of luck sent your friend past me just when I’d given up hope of a friendly face. I know there are terrible things happening to downed airmen, British and American, so to get to safety is amazing. Honestly, I hope you realise how bloody amazing it is.’
He’d been incredibly lucky.Ridiculouslylucky, in fact. She only hoped his luck rubbed off on them and continued.
‘Either you speak perfect English with a perfect accent for a Frenchwoman, or you’re from the same place as me,’ he suddenly said, catching her off guard.
So he hadn’t believed her before. Hazel smiled but it was fake, and she forced her shoulders and body to relax to make her face do the same. If this was an interrogation, she’d have just given herself away. So much for passing her training with flying colours.
