As she looked down at the child, Fitz could see her eyes were already closing as tiredness overwhelmed her.
Chapter 16
Fitz hated having to wake Yvette. The little girl was obviously exhausted, probably mentally as well as physically. Fitz couldn’t help worrying about the long-term effects of what she had witnessed or experienced. Thank goodness Yvette had had the sense to hide, or someone had hidden her in the well.
When they’d sat down, Yvette had sat between Fitz and Scout, who’d positioned himself on the other side of her. As Yvette had sunk towards Fitz when she nodded off, Scout had moved closer to the little girl, as if offering his protection and body warmth. Fitz had been a bit wary of the dog at first, but with each hour that passed, her confidence in him was increasing. Gradually they were all beginning to trust one another.
‘Yvette,’ said Fitz softly, stroking the child’s hair. ‘Time to wake up. We need to start walking again.’ Yvette gave a sleepy groan and snuggled into her. ‘You really need to wake up,’ encouraged Fitz. ‘Come on.’
Yvette sat up and looked around her and then at Fitz. Her brow furrowed and as realisation of who she was with dawned on her, her small shoulders slumped and she looked down at the ground.
Fitz felt for her but there wasn’t time to dwell on the situation. She was reminded of Cook who was fond of saying things like, ‘Chin up. Worse things happen at sea’ when either Fitz or Michael had been disappointed or feeling sorry for themselves about something.
She spared Yvette the quote but chivvied her along, nonetheless. They needed to keep moving. Fitz held Yvette’s hand as they made their way on through the trees, aware thatthe forest was spanning out in a northern direction, which was contrary to the way they needed to go in order to reach Josselin. It meant they would have to break cover and risk taking the open road.
Fortunately, the Breton countryside was sparsely populated, and the road was quiet. They passed the occasional house or entrance to a property, but there was no one about. Fitz was hoping to find someone who could take Yvette in but was having no such luck. The road undulated its way across the area – a combination of long straights and then twisty turns.
They had been walking for some time, when in the distance Fitz could see a cluster of buildings and beyond that, poking up from behind a hill, was a church spire.
Maybe this was where she could find a safe place for Yvette. But then a thought struck her. Walking into a village where she was obviously a stranger, with a girl and a dog, would cause a lot of unwanted attention. Someone might take Yvette in, but they might also report Fitz to the Germans and then she could be in deep trouble. The Germans would realise Fitz had escaped last night. Damn. She hadn’t thought this through properly. It meant she was still stuck with Yvette.
They somehow needed to work their way around the village. The countryside was littered with small tracks that wove their way through trees and fields. If Fitz could find one before they reached the village, they might be able to easily work their way around without being seen. Fitz still held out hope that they’d come across a secluded farmhouse where she could deposit Yvette.
They carried on walking and as they rounded a bend in the road, Fitz’s heart plummeted. She had got careless and blasé, for now they were faced with a checkpoint ahead, manned by two soldiers. It was too late to turn back or to hide out ofsight, they had been spotted. She forced herself to carry on walking, reminding herself she had been trained for these kinds of situations. She could do this. She had to.
One of the soldiers nudged the other and nodded in Fitz’s direction. The second soldier chucked down the cigarette he was smoking and crushed it underfoot. He lifted his rifle a fraction.
‘Papers,’ he demanded as she, Yvette and Scout came to a halt in front of them.
Fitz handed over both sets of identity papers.
The soldiers took a long time examining the documentation. Fitz fought to keep her breathing even. Now was not the time to panic and give herself away. Yvette slipped her hand into Fitz’s and Fitz looked down and smiled at her.
A car approaching the other side of the barrier, had both soldiers looking up. It was a black Citroën – the car of choice for the Gestapo and officers.
Fitz’s mouth dried and she swallowed hard. All she had to do was to hold her nerve.
There were two occupants in the car. A driver and a German officer. He looked back at her through small round glasses, before saying something to the soldier.
The car moved through the checkpoint and Fitz was just about to breathe a sigh of relief, when the car stopped next to her.
The officer got out of the car and gestured for the guards to hand him the documentation, which he proceeded to inspect for what felt like hours. He beckoned Fitz over to him.
‘Mademoiselle Bardot,’ he said, reading from the documentation.
‘Yes, that’s right.Oui, c’est vrai,’ replied Fitz.
‘And this is Yvette Moreau?’ he continued in French. He looked at Yvette who remained silent.
‘She’s shy.Elle est timide,’ said Fitz.
‘I wasn’t talking to you,’ snapped the officer. He lifted Yvette’s chin up with his leather gloved finger. ‘You are Yvette Moreau? Speak up, child.’
Yvette nodded. Fitz was willing her to speak. She squeezed the little girl’s hand gently. ‘You need to answer the gentleman,’ she said. The last word tasting bitter in her mouth.
There was a tense silence, and just when Fitz thought the officer was going to run out of patience, Yvette finally spoke. ‘Oui, monsieur.’
‘That wasn’t so difficult,’ muttered the officer. He turned to Fitz. ‘What relation is she to you?’
