Page 43 of Shadows In Paris
There was a sharp rap at the door, followed by two more in quick succession. Lizzie bounced up from her seat, fear and relief racing through her in equal measures.
If the Gestapo were onto her, the mission was over before they’d even begun. Lizzie opened the door, her stomach lurching.
There stood the woman, her eyes bright beneath the rim of her hat.
Thank God.
Lizzie looked at her expectantly, and the woman whose name she still didn’t know because it was safer for them both, used a Liberty Network code to check it was safe for them to be there.
Lizzie replied, ‘It is so good to see you, madame. Come in.’
The woman turned and waved towards the dark shadows at the edge of the garden.
The shadows rustled and in the faint light from the kitchen, Lizzie saw a man appear from the bushes. He turned and stretched out his hands. A little girl joined him, clinging onto his hand, followed immediately by a slightly taller boy. They can’t have been more than four or five, and they were both painfully thin, like their father.
As they approached the door, Lizzie smiled warmly at the children, trying not to show the distress she felt. It was obvious they were terrified.
There was more movement, and a woman slipped from the bushes and joined her husband and children. She touched both children’s heads to reassure them. It was the natural response of a mother when her children were frightened. Lizzie took in the tragic scene.
What kind of world was this, where tiny children had to be smuggled to safety at night to hide from the authorities of the country in which they were born?
The sight of the children’s pitiful faces and fearful eyes made Lizzie more determined to do all she could to help the family. This reality was even worse than she’d thought when she was back home in London listening to the radio. All the broadcasts about the evil regime had not prepared her for the pain of this moment.
Lizzie silently beckoned to them to enter the house, and they did so one by one. When they were all inside, sheinvited them to sit on the sofa and she heated the pan of onion soup and served it to them with a small piece of bread from the remainder of their measly rations in the pantry.
How they were going to feed an additional four mouths she didn’t know. What would Hannah say about her taking in the family without discussing it with her? It had all happened so fast and had seemed the right thing to do. Now they were sitting here, their lives in her hands, she second guessed herself.
Had she made a terrible mistake? Perhaps they would have found someone else to take them in if she hadn’t so readily agreed.
The parents looked at Lizzie expectantly, and she felt she must say something. It wasn’t their fault she didn’t know what she was doing and was new to the job.
‘I want you to know we will do all we can to keep you safe.’
The mother replied first, and Lizzie saw tears welling in her eyes as she spoke. ‘Thank you so much. You cannot know how grateful we are to you. And we owe our lives to you, dear Margot,’ she added. Her exhausted voice faltered as she gazed at the woman who stood watching over the family like a mother hen.
‘Please don’t cry, Maman,’ said the little girl, her big brown eyes filling with tears.
The woman scooped her daughter onto her lap. ‘No, no, you are right. This is no time for crying. Let’s eat our soup and be grateful we’re all together.’
She blew on a spoonful of the hot watery broth and eased it into the girl’s mouth. The tears in her eyes dried as she swallowed, momentarily comforted by her mother’s soothing words.
The little boy sat at the table and ate his soup hungrily,but his parents seemed unable to eat, even though they were obviously malnourished.
Lizzie thought how upsetting it must all be for them and how frightened they must be for their children’s safety and for each other. No wonder they had no appetite.
‘Please eat a little whilst it’s still warm,’ she coaxed them both, looking from one to the other. ‘You will need your strength so eat whilst you can.’
They followed her advice and soon they were all eating the soup and chewing the stale bread.
Lizzie signalled for Margot to come through to the next room.
‘They will be safe here for tonight in the basement. I’ll talk to Angel when she arrives home. They can’t stay hidden. It’s no way for anyone to live, especially not these sweet children.’
Margot squeezed Lizzie’s arm. ‘You’re thinking like someone in a normal situation. I must stress this is not a normal situation. If the Gestapo find this family, they will take the father to work in one of their institutions to develop their diabolical experiments. That’s why they are on the run. Then the Gestapo will send the mother and children to a camp in Germany or Poland. That’s if they don’t shoot them for disobeying orders. If we don’t keep them hidden, it’s the end for this family. The odds are they won’t see each other again.’
Lizzie stared at Margot, swallowing hard as she tried to digest what she was saying. After a pause whilst she let it sink in, she said, ‘What else do I need to know about them?’
‘The only thing you need to know is they won’t be safe here for long. You must get them out of France as soon as possible. It’s over for them, if you don’t. They are on too many lists and the hunt for Jews and all dissidents in Paris is intensifying.’
