Nicole nodded as if it didn’t matter at all. “She’s managed to evade the Nazis thus far. It is why she operates underground as we all do.”
The openness with which Nicole spoke set a nervous edge to Elaine’s newly sharpened skills as a Resistant, and yet such candor was also refreshing after Denise’s stifling presence.
“What about you?” Elaine asked as they pushed back out onto the street.
Nicole bit the inside of her lip. “My brother and father both fought for France and were captured by the Bosche. Now they are in work camps in Germany. The sooner this war ends, the sooner they will be free.”
“What of the relève?” Elaine recalled the many posters she had seen about a year prior, asking women to labor for the Nazis in order to release the imprisoned French soldiers. For every three women who volunteered to go to Germany, one man would be released back to France.
After Lucie disappeared, Elaine had insulated herself from the idea of ever forming another friendship, not when trusting people was so dangerous. Not when losing a dear friend hurt so terribly. As a result, Elaine knew no one in such a predicament as to need to participate in the relève program until now. In thinking of her own aching loss with Joseph still in prison, she could imagine the enticement would be tempting.
Nicole scoffed, the sound harsh and indelicate. “My sister joined the relève. The Germans promised she would be near her husband, but I doubt that vow was ever honored. Regarding the French soldiers who are returned to France, they are all old and injured. Young, healthy men will not be freed until the war is over and now she is trapped in Germany, working for the Bosche until then.”
It was so very like the Nazis to use a woman’s love for her family to coerce her into building the very weapons and machinery that would continue to keep them enslaved.
“Here.” Nicole handed Elaine a stack of envelopes. “These are all to be delivered up there.”
Elaine gazed up, up, up at the winding incline of Montée de la Grande C?te, a narrow street with narrower walkways on either side, shimmering with moisture from a recent rainstorm. The brown buildings stretched up to the sky, and stone-arched windows from an ancient time dotted their bland faces. Elaine hastily slid the pile into the secret bottom of her basket.
By late afternoon, the task was complete, and Elaine descended the steep slanting road, careful to ensure her shoes did not slip on the damp cobblestones. The sheen of sweat on her brow chilled in the cool breeze, a glorious reprieve after her exertions.
Her stomach pinched with hunger and in those moments of quiet reflection, she found her thoughts once more drifting to the plates of food left behind by the Nazis earlier that day. Denise and Josette arrived at nearly the same time as Elaine approached the bookshop. Suddenly, a Nazi officer emerged from a nearby café, his back ramrod straight with authority as he glanced about the street.
Josette gave a little squeak and tripped on the walkway. Though she staggered and her free arm flailed, she was no match for the wet surface slicking the pavement and she careened to the ground.
As her basket struck the cobblestones, its false bottom fell open and an envelope tumbled out.
The German looked toward the commotion, his gaze going sharp.
All at once, Nicole appeared in front of Josette and waved to the Nazi. “Pardon, monsieur.”
His expression shifted from one of suspicion to one of interest as he strode confidently toward her. Nicole sashayed closer, blocking Josette and allowing the flustered woman the opportunity to reclaim the spilled envelope and snap the scared rabbit look from her face.
The German did not notice. “Oui, madam? What may I do for you?” he asked in broken French.
“Do you have a light?” Nicole drew a slim silver cigarette case from her handbag.
“Of course.” The officer pulled a box of matches from his pocket, the contents giving a delicate rattle.