“Combat,” Elaine replied. A pang of longing struck her with the recollection of those mornings over chicory coffee, their heads bowed together as they discussed the articles in low voices.
How she missed those days with Joseph, when they worked as a team rather than opposing one another. Before she had known of his efforts with the Resistance instead of being told lies. “I used to read Combat with my husband. We would use what was in the paper to come up with tracts that we made on the Roneo.”
The duplicating machine was a clunky thing, but it worked well enough to copy the pamphlet she and Joseph composed to churn out replicas for distribution.
Denise lifted a dark brow with interest. “You know how to use a Roneo?”
Elaine nodded. “It isn’t all that difficult, so long as it doesn’t jam.”
“Which is often for me.” Nicole laughed. “I think my specialty is in breaking most things mechanical.”
“Which is why she’s usually not allowed near the typewriter.” Josette smothered a giggle. “Lucky for her, she is adept at transcribing messages into code.”
“My husband showed me how to use the duplicating machine,” Elaine confessed. “He has always been so patient with me. In truth, I joined the Resistance in the hopes there might be something I can do to help free him.”
Nicole stopped sifting through the delicate scraps of silk. “Free him?”
“He’s in Montluc Prison. Perhaps you know him—Pierre?” His code name was foreign on Elaine’s tongue.
Josette brightened. “He made identity cards.”
Elaine nodded, suspecting as much based off Claudine’s arrival at her door. However, she had not anticipated the women would know of her husband, let alone what he had done. But this new insight into Joseph left her fascinated to learn more.
“He made mine.” Josette’s brow pinched. “Though I can’t recall much else.”
“I don’t know anything about him,” Nicole said. “But I’ll do what I can to find out.”
Elaine offered her an appreciative smile. “Merci beaucoup.”
Nicole waved it off as if the gesture was nothing. But it was something to Elaine. It meant knowing exactly what Joseph did those days she thought he was at work, all the times of being a bored housewife, stewing with resentment as she waited at home.
And to think Elaine had once accused him of being as guilty as the Nazis for having turned a blind eye. The memory struck at a contrite chord within her. If only she had known then… If only he had trusted her enough to tell her.
The familiar ire welled up once more.
But any residual anger dissolved into an unsettling chill when Elaine caught sight of Denise, who was studying her with an expression that could only be considered somber.
FIVE
Ava
Ava set the five publications she’d procured onto Mr. Sims’s desk. She personally had scoured through them to ensure the contents seemed pertinent to what might aid the American war effort.
He gave them a cursory glance and returned his attention to a file open in front of them, clearly uninterested in her findings. “Where are the rest?”
“These seemed to have helpful details,” she replied. “I could only read the ones in English, German, and French.”
Mr. Sims pinched the bridge of his nose in a manner that suggested she had just ruined his entire day. “You are to obtain any publication you can get your hands on.”
“I was given no instructions, but will certainly acquire more next time,” she said with measured deference. “I also would have appreciated being notified that some Nazis pretend to be Austrians.”