‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
‘I promised you yesterday that I would give you twenty-four hours.’ He looked at his watch. ‘That still leaves you one hour and ten minutes.’
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. ‘Do you mean you’re going to let us leave?’
‘Yes. But before you go,’ he said, looking at Marcel, ‘you need to punch me and then shoot me. In the leg.’
‘What?’ I cried. ‘We can’t shoot you.’
‘Yes we can,’ said Marcel. ‘If we don’t make it look realistic, then he won’t be believed.’
Alphonse held out Marcel’s gun to him. As Marcel went to take it, Alphonse hesitated and kept his grip on the weapon. I watched as a silent agreement passed between the two men and then Alphonse released his hold.
‘You’d better punch me first,’ said Alphonse. He braced himself in front of Marcel who, without hesitation, landed a right hook on Alphonse’s jaw, sending the younger man backwards onto the floor. He got to his feet, rubbing the side of his face. ‘Now you need to shoot me.’
‘I’ll try to avoid any bones,’ said Marcel. ‘So it’s just a flesh wound.’
‘I hope you’re not left-handed,’ said Alphonse, nodding towards the wounded shoulder.
‘I came top of my class in small firearms,’ said Marcel. He raised the gun and without warning fired off a shot, the silencer doing its job once again to avoid detection.
Alphonse cried out in pain, and for a second time, fell to the floor. He gripped the top of his thigh with both hands. ‘It went straight through,’ he said. ‘Now you had better go.’
I crouched down next to Alphonse and put my hand on his arm. ‘Thank you, Alphonse.’
‘Just don’t get yourself caught or killed,’ he said, clearly in discomfort from the wound.
‘Nor you.’
I got to my feet.
Marcel and Alphonse exchanged another look. ‘You get her out of here now. Make this worth it.’
‘I will.’
Marcel paused. ‘The briefcase. Where’s the briefcase?’
I grabbed Kranz’s case, which had all the documentation the Resistance could need. With that, Marcel took my hand and we were out into the hallway, closing the door behind us.
Everything had happened in a matter of minutes. I scooped up the laundry bag I’d left on the trolley earlier as Marcel hurried me along the corridor. The hotel was still silent. ‘Take the staff staircase,’ instructed Marcel. ‘I’ll go out through the main entrance. It will look suspicious if we go together. Meet me at the back.’
I kept my composure as I hurried down the stairs and was grateful the staffroom was empty as I exited the rear of the hotel for the last time. There would be no going back now.
As I walked out onto the main road, a car pulled up and the door opened. Marcel was sitting in the back. I climbed in and the driver sped us away through the streets of Paris.
‘Where are we going?’ I asked.
‘First, I need to get this shoulder cleaned up,’ said Marcel, kissing the top of my head. ‘Then we’ll quickly call to your home to grab some clothes before heading to Brittany.’
‘Brittany? My cousins?’
‘Yes. We’re going to get you and them out of the country to England where you’ll be safe.’
‘And what about you?’ I asked, suddenly panicked that we might be separated again.
‘Well, I’m going to be out of action for a while. If all goes well, we can stay with my mother.’
‘All of us?’
