Page 55 of Hearts of Resistance
He stared at her for a moment and then suddenly mobilised, his boots heavy on the stairs as he disappeared.
‘You’re good,’ Sophia whispered, feeling a warm sense of camaraderie between her and Hazel for the first time as she watched her giggle to herself. She wasn’t going to trust her just yet, but she suddenly wasn’t so opposed to her, either.
‘I’m used to being treated as if women are somehow second-rate to men,’ Hazel said. ‘But just because I’m used to it doesn’t mean I like it.’
‘So you’ve got a reason not to like being second-guessed by a man, then?’ Sophia asked, completely understanding her sentiments.
‘Something like that.’
‘What’s going on up here?’ Rose appeared at the top of the stairs, holding two bowls of what Sophia guessed was going to be soup. ‘Our little operator seems to have got the men downstairs all in a flap!’
They all laughed and Rose sat on the floor beside them after passing them their bowls.
‘Let’s just say she’s already proven herself,’ Sophia whispered, not wanting to disturb Hazel now she was listening in again to her radio.
‘Didn’t I tell you?’ Rose asked.
Rose had her eyebrows raised but she was smiling, and Sophia gave her a quick shrug in reply. But as they sat in silence, the only noise the quiet sipping of soup from spoons, Sophia wondered how long they’d be together. If it was true that the Allies were preparing to land in Normandy, they had a lot of work to do to assist them. The war might finally be close to being over, but that meant even more dangers for everyone working underground.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
HAZEL
Hazel sat quietly with Harry. She might have known Rose longer than anyone else here, but for some reason it was Harry she had the strongest bond with. Perhaps it was because they were both English, or newcomers, or maybe both. Sophia had started to thaw, which was a relief, but Hazel still felt like the new recruit amongst a team of highly experienced spies and soldiers. Even if they weren’t traditionally trained, and despite a fair amount of chaos, the maquisards that were based here certainly seemed capable, determined and ready for action.
‘Can you tell me anything you have planned?’
Harry’s voice was a pleasant surprise and pulled her from her thoughts. His dark eyes were warm, his smile easy as he spoke to her.
‘Or is it that fiancé of yours you’re deep in thought about?’
Hazel shook her head when she saw his mouth curve into an even bigger grin, knew that he was teasing her. ‘I suppose you’re feeling better after that big sleep, are you? If you’re well enough to make jokes about me, that is.’ She glanced away, embarrassed and not quite sure whether he was being friendly or something more.
She was pleased to see him smiling, and for the first time, his brow wasn’t covered in sweat. He actually looked better. She probably looked worse; she’d sat up late after she’d finished working, playing the poem she’d listened to over and over in her mind, and it was torturous not to be able to share it with Harry.
‘So which was it?’ he asked.
‘I wish I was daydreaming about him,’ she confessed, then laughed because she realised it had come out all wrong. Now she was the one giving confusing signals! She wished it was John she was thinking about and not Harry; it must have been lack of sleep jumbling her mind. The fatigue was scrambling her thoughts. Or perhaps Harry was reminding her how she’d once felt with John.
‘Should I be worried about our safety here?’ he asked, his tone more serious now.
‘Probably,’ she admitted, not about to lie to him. There was no point pretending with Harry. He had eyes and ears, and that meant it wouldn’t take him long to figure everything out, if he hadn’t already. They were as safe here as they could be, given that they were in German-occupied France. ‘How are you getting along having to speak French?’
They spoke English to him a lot, but of course everyone at the chateau spoke French and she wondered just how much he’d been able to understand and whether he’d been frustrated that he couldn’t respond easily.
‘It’s been a long time since I’ve tried to speak the language in conversation.’ He laughed. ‘I can get by, but I don’t sound like a local and I give myself away fairly quickly.’ He paused, catching her eye. ‘Unlike you.’
She could understand why he was so curious. It was only natural, but he knew enough and she wasn’t about to engage, no matter how charming he was. She ignored the question in his gaze.
‘You need to be careful here,’ she cautioned him. ‘If they have any suspicions about you or what you might know...’
‘Why would anyone be suspicious of me?’ he asked, eyebrows pulled together, clearly perplexed. He grunted when he shifted his weight and she cringed for him, feeling his pain.
‘Look, even British agents get turned here. For all they know you’ve been saved, captured and turned.’ Hazel hated even having this conversation. ‘All I’m saying is that they’re hot-headed and they hate the Germans with the fiercest of passions. I know who you are, and you know who you are, but I just want you to keep your head down and stay out of trouble.’
She couldn’t help worrying about him, and she hated that she was letting her emotions control what she was thinking right now. But she felt an obligation towards her fellow countryman. Wasn’t that why she was here? To help their soldiers and their country? She stifled a groan. She was much better when she was working; the moment she was following orders or sitting at her radio, she blocked everything else out.
‘You’re worried,’ he said simply.
