“It’s a map of the Atlantic Wall,” she said, as she unfolded it. “It was passed to me by one of the other prisoners—a woman from the Resistance in Normandy—before she was taken out to be executed.” She ran her finger along the blue line that meandered across the fabric from the top right-hand corner to the bottom left. “The Germans are planning to beef up their sea defenses in northern France. Up to now, only the ports have been fortified. But they’re going to plant land mines and antitank devices on the beaches of Normandy.” She pointed to red crosses dotted along the outline of the coast. “These show where the fortifications will be. Underwater obstacles and naval mines will be placed in waters just offshore. The intention is to destroy the Allied landing craft before they can unload on the beaches.”
“She has to get this back to London.” Josef glanced at me. “It’s too complex to be sent by radio.” He went over to the window again, his face grave. “She needs to be on that boat of yours tonight—but I can’t take her any farther.”
“Why not?”
“The Germans have been watching me. They’d think it very suspicious if they caught me driving to Lannion. They’d want to know why I was taking bread to a town where there are four boulangeries.”
“And they’ll be looking for me,” Miranda said. “The prison camp’s only ten miles from here. They’re going to be searching any vehicle heading for the coast.” She folded the map and put it back in her pocket. “My only chance would be to keep away from the roads: go through the fields and hide in hedges.”
The brave smile couldn’t conceal the paleness of her skin and the hollow look of her eyes. I wondered how she’d find the strength to walk the five miles to Lannion—more like six or seven miles, probably, if she was going through fields.
“There’s another solution, though, isn’t there?” She was looking at me intently. “You could take it.”
I gazed back at her. “Well, yes, I could, but what about you? You can’t go on hiding out here. You . . .” I faltered, not wanting to spell out what was on my mind: that she needed medical attention and somewhere safe to recuperate. “You could be putting other people in danger,” I said instead. “Anyone who hides you would be at risk of being arrested—or worse.” I paused, suddenly seeing another way. “Why don’t you pretend to be me? Take these clothes and my identity card, and the bicycle. The Germans won’t be surprised when they see the nun that passed through the checkpoint coming back a few hours later.” I patted the coif on top of my head. “With this on, they won’t even realize it’s a different woman.”
“But what will you do?”
“What you suggested: walk back through the fields. If I run into any trouble, I’ll show my Irish passport—they can’t detain someone from a neutral country.” I sounded full of confidence. I knew that if I showed the slightest trepidation, she wouldn’t go along with it. “I’ll meet you after dark at the quayside in Lannion,” I went on. “We’ll row out to La Coquille together.”
I could see her mind working, weighing it up. “I don’t know,” she said. She turned to Josef. “What do you think?”
“It’s a good plan,” he said. “She’s right—you need to get back to England. You’re a liability to us here.” He sounded harsh, but it was what she needed to hear. Clearly she was too dedicated to put her own health first, but she wouldn’t want to jeopardize the lives of others.
Miranda blew out a breath. “Okay.” She turned back to me. “What about clothes? Mine are filthy and there’s no time to wash them. You can’t go traipsing across the countryside in your underwear.”
“Go back upstairs and see what my wife has,” Josef said. “She won’t mind—as long as you don’t take her Sunday best.” He picked up the cloth bag that contained the explosives and transmitters I’d handed over. “I need to go now.” He came and shook my hand, then Miranda’s. “Bonne chance.”
“Merci,” Miranda replied. Under her breath she murmured: “We’re going to need it.”
We locked the door when Josef had gone, and ran upstairs. If I was going to walk back to Lannion, there was no time to lose. Miranda started searching through a chest of drawers by the window, looking for something suitable for me to wear. I sat down at the dressing table to unpin my veil. I’d only just started when she let out a cry of alarm.