Page 7 of Tides of Resistance
‘Ah, so she was giving them a run for their money on the dance floor?’
Lizzie nodded and scraped a thin layer of butter onto a piece of toast, followed by a generous spoonful of rhubarb jam, another win for the industrious food-growers and their home garden plot.
‘A handsome GI took a shine to her, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she sees him again.’
‘Oh, Lord, a romance with an American? That could complicate things.’
Lizzie crunched on her toast and dusted off her hands as she rose from the table. ‘I must get ready for work, dear sweet Pa. Try not to worry. You know we’re all grown up now.’
‘That’s exactly why I worry,’ he grumbled, rolling his eyes. ‘Your mother will be cross she missed such an eventful evening.’
‘I doubt we’d have had such an eventful evening if Ma had come with us, but don’t tell her that! We’d have been home for a cup of tea and tucked up in bed for an early night.’ Lizzie yawned and stretched. ‘I almost wish we had been. I’ll pay for it today.’
‘Before you rush off, I’ve been meaning to ask, how are things at Baker Street?’ Pa asked, his tone sober.
Lizzie sat down on the chair beside him and lowered her voice. ‘Busy as always. Looks like I might be needed for a special project soon.’
Pa’s forehead creased into a deep frown. ‘That’ll give me something real to worry about.’
Lizzie patted her father’s arm. ‘I don’t know for sure yet, but there’s been talk of a trip to St. Malo.’
Pa’s eyes searched hers, and he lowered his voice yet further. ‘You might see Uncle Charles?’
‘That’s why Val asked me to go. They know about the family. I mentioned having cousins there, and she remembered.’
Pa sighed. ‘It makes sense, but showing up out of the blue would endanger them all.’
Lizzie took her father’s hand and squeezed it. ‘I know. I will do all I can to keep them out of it, but I don’t have the finer details of the mission yet. My guess is they just want me to have a contact for when I arrive.’
Her father rubbed his free hand across his freshly shaven chin and appeared to ponder her words. ‘St. Malo is a key port, and it’s heavily occupied. I don’t like the idea of you going into that hornet’s nest.’
Lizzie longed to confide in her father more fully and find out what he knew of Hitler’s new directive, but she held her tongue. Even though they were both bound by the Official Secrets Act and on the same side, she couldn’t share details of the SOE intelligence.
Instead, she turned to the personal. It would be helpful for her to learn what she could about her cousins and her aunt and uncle to know what to expect when she arrived.
‘Do you think they will still be in St. Malo?’ Lizzie asked.
‘I wish I knew, but we’ve not been able to get in touch with them since France fell. Uncle Charles and Aunt Giselle should be. My brother wasn’t conscripted because of his age, but your cousin Fabian was. I don’t know if he made it home.’ His voice tailed off as they both confronted the tragic thought they didn’t want to think.
‘I wonder what Sophie is doing,’ Lizzie said.
‘I would guess they’re at home, but who knows?’
Lizzie thought of her cousins again. She and Sophie were the closest in age and had always got on well.
After collecting her things from her room, Lizzie popped her head into her mother’s bedroom. ‘Morning, Ma. How are you feeling?’
Rose coughed. ‘Don’t come near me, my darling girl. I’m feeling slightly better this morning, but I don’t want you to catch this dreadful flu.’
Lizzie blew her mother a kiss, wished her a speedy recovery and promised she would visit again soon.
Val crossed the room and gazed out at the bright skyline of the London morning. ‘It’s a glorious day. Shall we get out of here for some fresh air?’ She pivoted to face Lizzie, who sat at her desk, which was laden with a stack of files.
Val rarely ventured outside of the office during working hours, and Lizzie brightened at the suggestion of fresh air to blow away the cobwebs. The late night really had taken its toll, and she was in danger of nodding off at her desk.
Both smart in uniform, they left the building, and Lizzie increased her step to keep up with Val, who after a brisk walk turned into the entrance of a pub on Baker Street called The Volunteer.
‘I passed by but have never been in here before,’ Lizzie said.
