‘Now the child. I want to see her hug the dog. You move away.’ He indicated with his pistol. Fitz had no choice but to let go of Yvette and move to the side. She watched intently, ready to jump in if anything went wrong.
The assured confidence of a child who didn’t know the danger was apparent as Yvette stepped towards the dog and kneeling, put her arms around Scout’s neck. She ruffled his fur before standing up and looking back at Fitz.
The officer looked surprised. ‘Well, what can I say?’ He gave a shrug. ‘You’re free to carry on your way.’ He handed back their papers.
‘Merci,’ said Fitz. Not wasting any time, she took Yvette’s hand and with the dog following on behind, hurried under the raised checkpoint barrier.
‘Oh, Mademoiselle Bardot!’ called the officer.
Fitz paused and closed her eyes for a second before turning around. ‘Yes?’
‘I will see you in Josselin! I’ll be there later today once I’ve attended to some business. We can perhaps meet again, more sociably.’ He gave a salute and got back into his car.
Chapter 17
Fitz fought to control her breathing as an adrenaline rush of relief swarmed through her body. She had to force herself not to break into a run as she walked away from the checkpoint. She could hear the officer’s car disappear into the distance and it wasn’t until they were out of sight of the checkpoint that she allowed herself to relax for a moment.
She looked down at Yvette. ‘You were so clever,’ she said. ‘So very clever, to fiddle with your teddy’s ribbon. Well done.’
She put her arm around Yvette’s shoulder and gave her a brief hug and Yvette rewarded her with a warm smile.
As they neared the village, Fitz spotted one of the narrow tracks she had been looking for and guided Yvette off the main road. She relaxed a little, feeling marginally safer taking the path along the edge of the fields. Her earlier plan to rest had now been relegated. Her main aim was to get to Josselin as soon as possible and make contact with the resistance.
Two hours of walking and they hadn’t covered half the ground that Fitz would have liked. The cold and damp December weather made Fitz shiver. She paused to fasten the top button on Yvette’s coat. For the next hour or so, as they trudged along the road, their speed slowed as Yvette grew more and more tired.
‘We’ll find somewhere to settle down for the night,’ promised Fitz, aware that if she wore Yvette out too much today, the child mightn’t be able to make the final leg tomorrow. It was vital they made the rendezvous.
It took another twenty minutes or so of walking before Fitz spotted somewhere. A solitary barn was standing in the cornerof the field and beyond that was woodland. Tucked away from sight of the road, it was a perfect place to stop.
Despite the remoteness, Fitz needed to make sure the barn was empty.
‘Right, what we’re going to do,’ she said to Yvette. ‘We’re going to head over to the woods and watch the barn for a while. I want to make sure no one comes out or goes in.’
They waited among the trees out of sight until it was dusk. Fitz watched the barn and the track leading up to it for several hours until she was satisfied it was safe and there was no sign of the farmer who owned it. She didn’t want to have to persuade him to allow them to sleep the night there. With the promise of extra food or a special concession from the Germans, turning in a fellow countryman was a tempting offer for anyone. Fitz had heard stories of the French turning against each other, not so much out of disloyalty but out of the need to survive.
Not for the first time, she wondered whereherboundary was. If she was ever put to the test, at what point would she give in? What prize would be worth betrayal? So far, she hadn’t come up with a definitive answer and she had no desire to test her limit, if she could help it.
Once dusk had truly fallen and evening arrived, Fitz, Yvette, and Scout crept out of the woods and into the barn. There was an old tractor parked inside, which didn’t look like it had been used recently. The mud on the wheels was dry and cobwebs hung across the steering wheel like Christmas decorations. Several hessian sacks were piled on the seat of the farm machinery and might be useful to keep them warm in the night.
Bales of hay were stacked at the rear of the barn. Fitz ignored the fact that the place was probably a hotbed of mice and rats, and having Scout with them, might deter the furry creatures from venturing too close while they slept. It was a shame shecouldn’t light a fire, but the straw and sacks would help keep them warm.
It wasn’t long before Fitz had made them both a nest of hay to snuggle into with the sacking over their legs and bodies as blankets.
‘There, I know it’s not exactly a hotel, but it will do for the night,’ said Fitz, pleased when Yvette snuggled into her and closed her eyes. She fell instantly into a deep sleep.
The temperature had dropped notably and Fitz was glad for the sacks, even though bits of straw poked through from underneath them. Yvette moved in her sleep, seeking a more comfortable position and Fitz put her arm around the child, so Yvette’s head rested against her.
She wondered what Michael would say if he saw her now. He’d probably think it was jolly good fun sleeping in a barn. She smiled fondly as she thought of him and imagined him tucked up in bed listening out for any passing planes overhead.
A sudden feeling of loneliness washed over her, taking Fitz by surprise. She wasn’t the homesick type but right then she felt vulnerable and responsible both at the same time.
If Fitz could have one wish right there and then, it would be to be back at Badcombe House where it was safe, familiar and warm. Funny how she thought the house was cold in the winter, at least she had the luxury of a hot water bottle. Here in the barn, it was just hers and Yvette’s body heat to stave off the cold. What Fitz would do now for a warm bed, cotton sheets and a couple of logs burning in the fireplace. She closed her eyes imagining the mug of hot cocoa her mother would have made her and allowed her to have in her room. Her mother would have wrapped a hand-knitted shawl around Fitz’s shoulders and sat on the edge of the bed to read a story.
Fitz didn’t always permit herself to visit such memories, as they were sometimes too painful, but tonight they brought her comfort and she prayed that she would one day be fortunate enough to see Badcombe House again, to see Michael and her father. She even found herself thinking of Camilla. Gosh, she really must be missing home.
Fitz allowed herself to relax enough to fall asleep, too. She hadn’t realised quite how tired she was.
She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep but at some point in the night, when it was dark and cold, she was woken by the sound of Yvette crying. Not big heaving sobs but gentle, pitiful murmurs and sniffles.
