Page 24 of Shadows In Paris
Hannah winked at Lizzie. ‘I wondered if you’d recognise me.’
‘You fooled me, for sure.’
‘You almost fooled me with your blonde hair, but I recognised your walk.’
‘My walk?’ Lizzie asked, taken aback.
‘Yes, you have a distinctive walk. Proud and upright.’
Lizzie was in awe of the legendary agent who had defiedall odds to stay alive throughout countless daring Resistance operations.
Lizzie scanned the area to make sure no one was within earshot. ‘What do you think of my new blonde look?’
‘Love it,’ Hannah said.
‘We dyed my hair, so I’d look more like you, but now you’re brunette, we’ve swapped places!’ Lizzie whispered.
Hannah’s full lips curved into a mischievous smile. ‘Maybe, maybe not. Come on, let’s get out of here,’ she said, moving towards the bicycles.
The evening was drawing in fast, and the bitter wind blew in their faces as they whizzed along the bank of the River Seine. Lizzie shivered, but she wasn’t sure whether it was from the cold or from the excitement of being back with Hannah.
CHAPTER 11
Lizzie’s bicycle pedals rattled along as a heavy dusk descended over Paris. They left the riverbank, and their worn tyres bounced along a shortcut Hannah used to reach the safe house.
‘Are we going to the same place where I saw you last time?’ Lizzie asked, as they rode in tandem.
‘No, I had to move again. It’s not safe to stay anywhere for too long, especially when we transmit messages.’
They cycled for around thirty minutes and Lizzie’s case bumped on the back of Hannah’s bicycle. She’d insisted on carrying it for her.
Lizzie followed Hannah around a sharp bend, and they rode further down the narrowing track. It was dark now, and the only light was from the moon, partially hidden behind a row of tall trees on the horizon. A sprinkling of stars twinkled in the sky like glitter on canvas, and as Lizzie raced after the Resistance leader, she had never felt more alive. Danger was all around them, but the feeling of aliveness was invigorating.
‘Here we are,’ Hannah said, dismounting and steering firsther bicycle and then Lizzie’s into a damp smelling shed. ‘Come on in and let’s get warm. I’ve been saving some hot chocolate for you.’
‘Hot chocolate? My goodness, I don’t think I’ve had anything as extravagant as that since before the war.’
Hannah grabbed a torch, and the faint light of the beam reflected off the ground, and Lizzie saw her beautiful smile. ‘Me neither. One of our team bought it for me on the black market as a gift. I kept it for when you arrived to celebrate.’
Lizzie was more moved than she could express with words, so she reached over and touched Hannah’s shoulder. ‘That’s so kind of you. I’m pleased I came! Not just for the hot chocolate, but it is a delightful reward.’
They giggled like the young, carefree women they might still be if they hadn’t been swept into an all-consuming war. Then they shrugged off their coats and removed their hats and hung them on the hooks in the entrance hall.
Hannah removed grips from her hair as she looked in the mirror and lay them one by one on the surface of the armoire.Then she twirled around, and her natural blonde hair swished onto her shoulders.
Lizzie stared ‘A wig! It looked so real, I thought you’d dyed your hair too.’
‘No, I have several wigs I use for quick disguises. Now we’ll both be blonde and are more likely to pass as sisters. Let’s get this hot chocolate going and then I’ll show you around and you can settle in. We will use this house as our base and hopefully won’t have to move for a while. We’re deep enough into the countryside and far enough from the city for our messages not to be easily intercepted, and thankfully we’re out from under the watchful eye of the Boche.’
Hannah paused and turned to look at Lizzie. ‘You will need to be ready to move at any minute when I’m not here. You just never know when they might be onto us.’
The thrill of danger reverberated through Lizzie, and memories of her last mission tumbled into her mind. She had been terrified a lot of the time, but now she was back again for more. It was a strange phenomenon, and she had missed the addictive rush of outfoxing the Nazis. She understood why agents found it difficult to return to an ordinary life after they worked undercover.
Pretending to her family she worked at a research bureau had been difficult. Acting as though she wasn’t madly in love with Jack was even harder.
Lizzie thought her mother suspected her of being up to something, and as Hannah lit the stove and boiled water for their chocolate, she thought of Rose back home in the house at Regent’s Park.
‘You look like a cat that’s got the cream,’ her mother said a few days before Lizzie left, when she had returned from an afternoon of code-breaking, interspersed with feverish lovemaking at Jack’s flat. ‘Whatever they’re giving you in that office, I’d like some of it, please! You’re glowing. Work really suits you.’
