She went over to him. ‘Come on, Rolf,’ she said. ‘Time to go.’ She managed to get him to his feet. He was looking at her, but without focus. ‘This way.’
As they went through the dressing room, Hoffmann didn’t appear to register Yvette there. Fitz smiled at her and gestured with her head to follow.
The spiral staircase took some negotiation especially as Hoffmann’s co-ordination was impaired, but they finally made it to the lower ground floor and into the laundry room. All she had to do now was to get the three of them across the lawn and out through the side gate where, she hoped to God, the car was waiting. She was aware they were already a few minutes behind schedule.
The side gate was no more than a door’s width and was used as a short cut for the staff to exit to and from the château without having to use the main entrance. Set in a stone wall which wasadorned in climbing and rambling roses, it was inconspicuous. So irrelevant, she had noticed yesterday that it was unguarded.
‘So now, we need to go as quickly and quietly as we can across the grass,’ whispered Fitz. ‘Ready?’
With a nod from Yvette, Fitz began to walk the colonel across the lawn. It was darker on this side of the château. The lights from the ballroom shone out across the other side of the château. There was a small terraced area with open doors from the ballroom and she could hear the string quartet playing a foxtrot.
They were about fifty yards from the château gate now. ‘Keep walking,’ encouraged Fitz. ‘Come on, Rolf, we’re nearly there.’
She was grateful he was incapable of speech at this point and she wasn’t even sure he comprehended what she was saying but he was keeping up with her, if staggering every so often.
They were within a few yards of the gate now. Fitz looked back over her shoulder and could see a figure silhouetted by the lights from the ballroom.
‘Hurry,’ said Fitz, as they reached the gate. They were protected here from the shadows cast by the oak tree, and she propped Hoffmann up against the trunk, resting one hand on his chest so he didn’t go anywhere. She drew Yvette closer to her. She glanced back again to the château and could see the flare of a lighter as the person lit their cigarette.
A soft hoot of an owl sounded out – it was the call sign of their pick-up. Fitz didn’t have time to wait until the person had finished smoking their cigarette and return to the party. She would just have to risk it.
She took Hoffmann by the arm and stepped out from their hiding spot towards the gate. She was waiting for the person to shout out at her, but there was nothing. Her pulse was racing,and her breathing was coming fast. She lifted the latch on the gate and pulled it open, peering through the gap.
‘Dépêchez-vous,’ came the urgent voice of the driver as simultaneously the rear door opened, and another man jumped out. Another appeared from somewhere in the street.
Fitz pulled Hoffmann through the gateway and he was immediately collected by the two resistance members and bundled straight into the back of the car.
‘He’s drugged up to his eyeballs,’ observed one of the men. He looked back at Fitz. ‘Are you getting in?’
‘Hang on.’ She darted back through the gate to get Yvette but to her horror she wasn’t there. Panic ripped through her. She looked back across the lawn and could see the girl running towards the house. ‘Yvette,’ Fitz called in as loud a whisper as she could. What on earth was she doing? Why hadn’t she stayed by the tree.
‘We have to leave.’ The man was at the gateway.
Fitz looked at him and then back at Yvette. ‘Wait. Please.’
The man followed her gaze. ‘A child?’
‘I’m bringing her with me,’ said Fitz.
‘We can’t wait,’ the man insisted.
Fitz looked from the man and back to the little shadowy figure of Yvette. To save herself and the mission or to save Yvette? The greater good or a single child? Why was Fitz even questioning herself? There was no way on earth she was leaving without Yvette. She’d never been aware of a maternal bone in her body up until that point. Yvette might not be her child, but Fitz was bonded to her as if she were her own flesh and blood. In the exact same way she wouldn’t dream of deserting Michael, she was absolutely not going to abandon Yvette.
Fitz broke into a run, racing across the lawn after Yvette.
Chapter 23
Fitz stretched out her long legs, gaining ground on Yvette with every stride, desperate to reach her before she got too close to the house.
The person on the terrace had their back to them. Fitz wished she’d changed out of her ridiculous evening gown. She hoisted the skirt of the dress above her knees so she could run faster.
Yvette came to a halt and bent down to pick something up, before turning around. It was her teddy. She must have dropped it and only just realised when they were at the tree.
‘Yvette! Quickly,’ whispered Fitz. The little girl ran to her, and Fitz caught her by the hand, speeding her back towards the gate. The now closed gate. The man must have gone back to the car.
Fitz was dragging Yvette so fast, the little girl stumbled. Fitz managed to lift her up to stop her falling while still moving. They got to the gate. They were both panting furiously.
‘I dropped teddy,’ said Yvette.
