Page 78 of Summer of Fire
The general sat at a table in an alcove by the window, smoking a cigarette and reading a German newspaper. He stood as she entered—his manners were impeccable as usual. ‘Mademoiselle, how good of you to come. Please be seated.’
The receptionist had already left.
Lizzie sat down, her heart thundering in her chest as she studied the elegant dining room. There were empty spaceson the gold wallpaper where the occupiers had helped themselves to paintings, but there were still some beautiful pieces on show.
Pierre had told her that it was well-known the Nazis favoured this hotel for its central location and grand rooms. They hadn’t looted the place entirely.Yet.
With a flourish of the arm, the general filled two glasses from a bottle of premium champagne chilling in an ice bucket, the likes of which Lizzie hadn’t seen since they threw lavish birthday parties at Seagrove.
He raised his glass and chinked it with hers. ‘To you,’ he said.
Lizzie took a sip of the sparkling champagne and the bubbles caught in her throat and she coughed. The general leaned over and patted her back solicitously. It was an act of dangerous familiarity, as if he was letting her know this wasn’t the only time they would have dinner together.
Lizzie steeled herself not to show her real feelings.
‘Let us order food,’ he said. ‘I am ravenous.’
He rang the bell on the table vigorously until a young serving girl scurried in. The general ordered for them both. ‘I bet you won’t have had a meal as fine as this for some time,’ he said. He was neither arrogant nor modest about his power. It just was.
‘I am grateful, Herr General,’ Lizzie said, hating every word that came out of her mouth, but playing the part of the submissive young French woman.
She glanced at the clock that was ticking far too slowly.
‘Tell me about yourself,’ he said, topping up her bubbles.
This is what Lizzie had been dreading, but she was prepared for his questions. She had rehearsed on the way over.
In a casual tone, she told him more of Marie LeClair’s packaged cover story, keeping it as basic as possible.
‘I’m curious. Why did you come to Reims?’ he asked, in between mouthfuls of the finest steak.
She told him she wanted to start afresh after her parents died. ‘It was just too painful near our old home.’ She lowered her head as if she was close to tears, hoping he would take the hint and stop questioning her.
He did, and they ate the remainder of their meal in silence.
‘That was delicious,’ she said. ‘You were correct, Herr General, I haven’t eaten a meal of that quality in a long time.’
It wasn’t a lie. The Nazis ate like revelling Romans whilst the rest of France barely survived on near starvation rations.
As delicious as the food was, each bite lodged in her throat. She was fraught with thinking about whether Jack had succeeded in the operation. It was an effort to pretend to enjoy the meal, but she pulled it off somehow.
The clock on the wall chimed loudly when the hour reached 8 p.m. Lizzie had to get away before news of the sabotage broke.
‘It has been wonderful, Herr General. Thank you for the hospitality. I’m afraid I must go now, or people will talk even more than they are already.’
‘Mademoiselle. I appreciate your company this evening and hope we might repeat this again soon.’
Lizzie smiled and nodded, trying not to show how relieved she was that he wasn’t being aggressive and making her stay. That was what she had been most worried about. He had been courteous and polite at the office, but that didn’t mean he would be the same in private.
Lizzie’s heart pounded as he looked at her.
Then the phone rang. ‘Wait one moment, mademoiselle. I will see you to your door, but I must take this call as it is most unusual for me to be disturbed in the dining room.’
There was a hurriedly barked exchange and by his heatedresponse, she guessed he was being informed of the attack on the airfield. He frowned, and she stood there wishing she could just slip out, but then she would defy his order.
They must part on good terms so there would be no suspicion that she was in any way connected to the sabotage operation.
She couldn’t let him walk her to the door of her supposed living quarters, but how could she stop him? Her thoughts raced furiously as she tried to figure out how to respond.
