Her throat tight, Lucie searched the passengers and the platform for the man she loved. “Please let him be here,” she whispered.
But the passengers melted away into the night, and the train chuffed away.
Lucie stood on the platform alone.
Her heart and lungs pumped in an erratic rhythm, a wild, modern dance.
What if Paul hadn’t received her message? What if he hadn’t learned about the declaration of war until it was too late to catch the last train south?
No. One more train from Paris to Orléans would arrive in an hour, so she forced her breathing into smooth rhythms.
Lucie sat on a bench, raised the horrid newspaper as a shield, and reviewed the plan.
If Paul didn’t arrive on the last train, Lucie would get a hotel room and meet him the next day in the train station.
But registering at a hotel in her own name carried risks. And what if Paul never came? She didn’t know how to contact the resistance in town. Worse, if Paul didn’t arrive, that meant something awful had happened to him.
But fretting had never once solved a problem.
With the fascist newspaper before her eyes, she imagined herself at the barre in the Palais Garnier, running through the Cecchetti syllabus.
The familiar music played in her head, and she mentally performed herpliés,battements tendu, battements dégagé, ronds de jambe a terre, each exercise in turn.
As she curtseyed in the finalgrande révérance, the tooting of a train horn replaced the music in her head.
Lucie folded the paper and stuffed it deep in her bag in case she needed a disguise again. Praying hard, she stood and scanned the train windows.
Before the train had completely stopped, a man in a gray coat appeared in a doorway, holding the hand of a little girl.
“Daddy, look! It’s Miss Gee-jard.”
Lucie’s heart soared, and she ran to them. “Paul! Paul!”
The train stopped, and he and Josie hopped down to the platform. A suitcase thumped to the ground, and Paul threw one arm around Lucie and kissed her.
She melted with joy and relief and the release of kissing him freely.
“Thank God,” he murmured against her lips. “Thank God.”
Tiny nervous giggles rose beside them. Josie.
Lucie pulled back, but Paul didn’t release her waist. She smiled at the child in her dark blue coat and bonnet. “Hello, Josie.”
She bounced on her toes. “Are you going to my grandparents’ house too?”
“I am.” But to the other set of grandparents.
“Are you my new mommy now? You kissed Daddy.”
Lucie suppressed a laugh and glanced at Paul.
“It’s more complicated than that.” His gaze shifted to Lucie, and he mouthed, “Someday.”
“Someday,” she mouthed back, her heart dancing with hope.
Paul picked up two suitcases bound with a luggage strap and gave Lucie a significant look. “Our reservations were made today.”
“Thank goodness.” That meant they had their contact. “Did you have any problems getting here?”
