Page 41 of The French Wife

‘Before you do, there’s something we need to ask you.’ Raoul and the men exchanged glances. ‘Come sit down.’

Feeling sudden trepidation, Amélie sat at the end of the table.

Raoul cleared his throat. ‘Even though she’s keen to do so, Ivy clearly won’t be well enough to take part in our mission on Monday evening,’ he said. ‘But it’s success depends upon there being a woman involved.’

Amélie stared at him. She knew what was coming next.

‘I hesitate to ask you this because you are already doing very important work for the Resistance with your work at the mairie, and we don’t want to put you in danger or for that to stop, but we were wondering, would you be prepared to help us out on Monday?’

She looked around at the faces of the others as her body tingled with nerves. Bruno was glowering, his eyes fixed on the table. He clearly didn’t like the idea of her taking part. Was this because it might elevate her in the eyes of the other members of the Resistance? Or because he didn’t want to put her in danger? Either way, he must have already been overruled by the others. She picked at a loose thread on the sleeve of her cardigan, wondering what to say or do.

‘But I have to go to work on Monday,’ she said, her mouth dry. ‘I’m never sick. If I don’t go in, they’ll surely be suspicious.’

‘The mission is planned for six thirty in the evening,’ Raoul told her. ‘You can go to work as normal that day. We will pick you up from St Marie in your husband’s farm truck as soon as you’ve finished. What do you say? I understand if you don’t want to do it, but if that’s the case we’ll have to rethink our plans very quickly.’

‘Of course I’ll do it,’ she said, not giving herself time to think of the consequences. ‘What will I have to do?’

Two days later, on the Monday evening, at precisely five minutes to seven, Amélie was beside the main Carcassonne to Narbonne road in the driver’s seat of a battered old Renault, her heart hammering against her ribs, her stomach churning with nerves, her hands on the steering wheel slippery with sweat. She was continually checking the car’s rear-view mirror for signs of the German convoy that was due along the road at any moment. Hidden inside her jacket, tucked into the belt of her skirt, was a handgun. She could feel the press of the cold, hard metal against her skin. She knew how to shoot – her father had taught her as a child and she’d hunted in the forest for fowl with Bruno many times – but Raoul had insisted on taking her into a clearing in the woods the day before to practise with a handgun. She was competent at handling it now, but she sincerely hoped she wouldn’t have to use it.

Inside the boot of the car and down in the drainage ditch beside it, the partisans were hiding: Henri, Raoul and four of the farm workers from home, Tomasz and Marcel amongst them. There were also four men from the Narbonne Maquis who had driven to the rendezvous point in the car she was sitting in. Bruno’s farm truck, which they’d driven here from St Marie-des-Champs, was hidden, parked on a rough track in a dip beside the road.

When she’d left work that day at five o’clock sharp, the men had been waiting for her in the truck, hidden in a quiet side road off the Boulevard des Promenades. She’d felt a little guilty leaving so promptly because Hauptmann Bauer had brought her some work just before she’d left. Since the day she’d found him sketching beside the river when he’d confided in her about his discomfort with the German occupation, they’d been on friendly terms.

When he’d come through to her office just before five o’clock that afternoon, she’d been alone; the mayor and the chief of police having already left for the evening.

‘Madame Garnier,’ he’d said. ‘I’m so sorry once again for the raid at your farm last week. I hope things have settled down now.’

‘Yes, we’re fine, thank you, Hauptmann Bauer,’ she said. ‘Everyone is trying to put it behind them.’

He’d hesitated beside her desk. ‘And how are you coping, madame?’ he asked, smiling. ‘I know things can’t be easy at the moment.’

‘I’m fine, thank you.’ She stood and pulled the cover over her typewriter. He clearly wanted to stop and chat, but she had to cut him short. ‘I’m sorry, but I need to get home promptly this evening,’ she said, fetching her coat from the stand.

‘My husband isn’t well,’ she’d lied, avoiding his gaze, having seen the disappointment in his eyes.

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Bauer had said. ‘I’ll let you go then. I was going to suggest that one day you might like to visit my lodgings. I’ve been working on the full-size watercolour of the old bridge I was making sketches for the other day, and I thought you might like to see it.’

‘I’d love that,’ she’d said, giving him a warm smile, genuinely touched that he’d asked her. ‘Another time. But as I said, I have to go now…’

‘Of course, madame. Don’t let me detain you.’

He’d stood beside her desk, watching her hurrying to put on her coat and dashing out of the office. She’d turned and given a little wave as she went out the door.

Despite her taut nerves about the forthcoming mission, she couldn’t get his wounded expression out of her mind. On the bumpy, noisy journey to the outskirts of Narbonne on the hard seat in the back of the truck, wedged between Henri and Tomasz, her mind had returned time and time again to Bauer’s puzzled, disappointed face. If she felt any guilt at all at taking part in this mission it was because of him, because of the complete trust she saw in his eyes when he rested his clear blue gaze on her face. It didn’t matter that he was German, that he was an officer in the enemy army; he’d shown her trust and kindness, and she’d repaid him with lies and deceit.

When the truck had finally arrived at the spot on the Narbonne road where Henri and Raoul had decided to stage the ambush, the men from the Narbonne Resistance were already waiting in the old Renault at the side of the road. They had all been drilled beforehand and once the groups had introduced themselves, everyone quickly grabbed their weapons and ammunition and took up their positions. Amélie had gone round to the back of the car, opened the boot and waited for Henri and Raoul to climb in. Before Raoul did so, he’d touched her arm and given her a reassuring look.

‘Thank you for doing this, Amélie,’ he’d said. ‘Please don’t be nervous. It’s going to be fine.’

Since then, she’d been sitting there in the driver’s seat, watching the light fade over the distant hills, her eyes fixed on the rear-view mirror for signs of the convoy. Each time she’d spotted the dim pinpricks of light from the shaded headlamps of a vehicle approaching from behind, her heart would race, but as each one had got closer, she’d realised they weren’t what she was waiting for.

The clock on the dashboard crawled round to seven. The convoy was due at that point on the road exactly then. Amélie began to chew on a nail with worry. Had their plan been discovered? Had something happened to the convoy?

But at five past seven she suddenly noticed in the mirror the muted headlights of four vehicles rounding a distant bend. They were moving slowly, one after the other. Her heart thudded. This was it. Four vehicles – from Bauer’s report they knew this convoy would consist of two Panzer tanks and two trucks. They were bringing the tanks and troops up from Perpignan to quell the unrest in the city of Narbonne.

The convoy rounded the final bend in the road, the lights growing brighter as they came straight towards her. This was her cue. When she judged that the vehicles were a hundred metres or so away, gritting her teeth, Amélie got out of the car and rushed into the road. She was trembling, but she knew she must force herself to play her part. She began waving her arms and shouting. It was dark now and although the vehicles were moving slowly, they didn’t appear to be braking. Had they seen her? What on earth would she do if they didn’t stop?

Her heart in her mouth, she carried on waving her arms madly. The rumble and roar of the engines filled the air and she had to force herself to stay in the road, although her instinct was to jump aside and let them pass.