Page 57 of Summer of Fire
‘Shipped out?’ Lizzie wondered if she’d misread the situation, and the girl was going on a mission after all.
‘Shipped out back home. She’s not cut out for SOE. We have no room for moaners and whiners.’
‘Ah, I see,’ Lizzie said, accepting the cup of deliciously pungent coffee with a grateful smile and digging into herplate of egg on toast as if she hadn’t seen food for a week. She was ravenous, exhausted, and her feet hurt like the devil.
But she had passed stage one of the group training and that meant she was on track to fulfil her ambition to do all she could to protect their freedoms. And she would get to see Jack again.
One way or another.
CHAPTER 28
After an exhausting but exhilarating day of blowing up old crumbling walls with plastic explosives, the girls were told there would be a social event that evening. It would be a chance to put their glad rags on and let off steam, Charlie promised.
Lizzie relaxed in a hot bath, then applied her makeup, and completed it with red lipstick. Everything she had with her was made in France or made by SOE, who made it look like it was from France.
The lipstick glided onto her lips beautifully and was the best she’d ever had. Regrettably, she thought, it wouldn’t last long because a hidden section of its gold case hid a lethal blade that would pop out if she pressed it.
‘In case you find yourself in a sticky spot. You can slit someone’s throat with this beauty. It’s small but lethal. Rather like you,’ Jack had added with an enigmatic smile when she showed it to him.
It was a shame she didn’t have the lipstick handy when the soldier attacked her, or she might not have needed rescuing.
Val told her she would receive a cyanide pill to take with her. ‘It’s a last resort,’ she said. ‘Better safe than sorry. If they capture you and you find yourself at the point of not being able to hold out without spilling secrets, use it. Try every lie in the book first, though.’
There was a brand-new packet of nylon stockings waiting on the dresser when she’d come up after the afternoon session. Lizzie hadn’t worn new stockings in months. They were so scarce these days that women had started drawing lines on the backs of their bare legs to pretend they were wearing the real thing.
Lizzie smoothed and rolled them up her legs luxuriously, taking her time, imagining she was dressing for a date with Jack when the war was over. When she stepped into her evening dress, the one she’d brought just in case there was a social event, she looked at her reflection in the mirror.
A shapely young woman stared back at her. Her eyes shone and her skin glowed after the hot bath. But who was she kidding? The real reason for her excitement was if she passed the training, in just a few days she would parachute into Reims again. And there was a high chance Jack would be there to meet her.
Lizzie had tried repeatedly to banish thoughts of their kisses, but to no avail. Jack dominated her thoughts to the point where she dreamt about him every night. Sometimes he rescued her and the whole horrible scene with the German soldier played out in her nightmares. Other times, it was her and Jack kissing in the barn or racing through the vineyards, her heart pumping as she followed closely on his heels.
Whatever the dream, he was invariably in it, and didn’t leave her thoughts for long, no matter how she chastised herself and tried to forget him.
A knock at the door interrupted her fantasies. ‘Are you ready to go downstairs, Marie?’
Lizzie recognised Anna’s voice. They called each other by their cover names because they were the only names they knew. What a strange game they were playing in this stately home—all pretending they were someone else, even though they knew they were false identities. It reminded her of the Agatha Christie novels her mother enjoyed.
Lizzie strode to the door. ‘BonsoirAnna,’ she said.
Anna linked her arm through Lizzie’s, and they reached the top of the winding central staircase and looked down at the assembled people below. Charlie had mentioned there would be some guests and it would be a chance to see new faces.
Charlie looked dashing in black tie, a drink in hand, chatting to one of the other instructors. His jaw fell open slightly as he spotted Lizzie, and his eyes followed her as she descended the stairs and stepped onto the marble floor where everyone was gathered for aperitifs before dinner.
A waiter stopped in front of them with a tray of champagne and they each took a glass. Anna turned away to talk to one of the other girls. Charlie winked at Lizzie, strode across the room, and closed the gap between them.
‘May I say how stunning you look tonight?’ he said in her ear.
‘You may. Thank you. Although shouldn’t we be speaking in French?’ Lizzie teased.
He laughed. ‘You are a sharp one, Marie LeClair. I saw that immediately. Night off tonight, though. You can be at ease.’
The waiters were circulating continuously, and Lizzie could see a few of the girls were already tiddly from too much champagne. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but she accepted the second glass as an accessory.
Soon the dinner gong sounded, and Charlie offered her his arm to escort her into the dining hall. Lizzie gazed about and admired the décor. It was all very grand, despite the government requisition. Chandeliers glittered from the high ceiling, which was intricately carved with roses and cornice mouldings.
‘Goodness, we are getting the special treatment tonight,’ Lizzie said.
‘Yes, you’ve done well to get through the week. Val said you all deserved it, so here we are. I hope you’ll do me the honour of dancing with me after dinner?’ Charlie said.
