‘You are alone? Where is André?’ asked Margot looking around.
‘He was captured by the Germans,’ replied Fitz, keeping her voice low so as not to be overheard. ‘We were ambushed at the farm. Someone ratted on us.’
The woman’s eyes widened. ‘Well, it will be someone from your side. No one from the resistance would do such a thing.’
Fitz gave her a challenging look. ‘You sound very sure. On “my side”, as you put it, only four people knew about the arrangements. The mole has to be here in France.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Well, let’s see what Philippe says,’ replied Fitz.
Margot made a scoffing noise. ‘First the child and now an ambush. It is strange how you managed to escape.’
Fitz had no mind to argue with the woman any further. ‘This needs to be discussed somewhere safe,’ she said. ‘Are you going to take me to the château or do I have to go there myself?’
Margot pushed herself away from the wall. ‘Follow me.’ And then pasting on a smile for anyone watching, she slipped her hand through Fitz’s arm. ‘The child was not in the plan,’ she said quietly.
‘I had no choice,’ replied Fitz.
This earned her a reproachful look from her contact, but she didn’t care.
They walked through the cobbled streets and around to the entrance of the château, passing through the red wooden gates where two German soldiers stood on guard.
‘Philippe’s cousin,’ said Margot nonchalantly, not breaking stride. Fitz kept up with her and was surprised when again they weren’t asked for their papers.
‘My cousin must be very influential,’ commented Fitz once she was certain they were out of earshot.
‘Oh, he is,’ replied Margot. ‘He has friends in high places. Now, there are several German officers residing, at your cousin’s invitation, in the château. Please remember that at all times. There are also three officers here as guests for the party tomorrow night.’
It all seemed so bizarre, talking about guests and a party as if the country wasn’t under occupation. Fitz couldn’t imagine how some people were seemingly going about their daily lives, almost welcoming the Germans. But then, she guessed, some were playing a very dangerous game – like the man who was pretending to be her cousin.
‘We are in the west wing of the building and the Germans are all in the east wing,’ said Margot, as they ascended the sweeping stone staircase to the first floor.
A German officer passed them, trotting down the steps, he slowed to bid them both good afternoon before continuing on his way.
Another surreal encounter. Fitz would have to get used to this for the next thirty-six hours. She followed Margot down the hallway, where she knocked on the door of one of the rooms, before entering.
‘Ah, my dear cousin, Claudine,’ said a man, getting to his feet and walking over to Fitz. He greeted her with kisses and Margot closed the doors behind her.
‘We have an extra guest,’ she said, gesturing to Yvette. ‘And we have another absent.’
Philippe frowned. ‘A child?’ he whispered. ‘No one told me about this.’
Fitz reined in a sigh. Patiently she explained how she’d found Yvette and how she couldn’t possibly leave her.
‘And her mother?’ asked Philippe.
‘I haven’t been able to find her yet,’ replied Fitz, raising her eyebrows at the Frenchman, hoping he’d understand what she wasn’t saying. She was very conscious that Yvette still didn’t know the true fate of her mother.
Philippe made a huffing noise. ‘Very well. I’m not happy, but she’s here now.’
‘Exactly,’ said Fitz. ‘And she is my charge. I don’t expect anyone to have to look after her.’ The words came out before Fitz realised what she was saying. She had just taken on sole responsibility for Yvette.
‘I’ll hold you to that.’ Philippe returned to the desk he had been sitting at. ‘I take it you know what the plans are for the party tomorrow?’
‘Yes,’ replied Fitz. ‘We don’t have André with us. We were ambushed.’
Fitz relayed the events at the farmhouse to Philippe. She was aware of Margot making tusking noises and sighing in exasperation as she listened, but Fitz ignored her.
