He regarded her with a wounded, wary look. “Elaine.”
“Did you find a way to send my note?” She didn’t bother to hide the coolness of her tone.
“I put it through the channels I could.”
“But you don’t know if it was delivered.”
He lowered his gaze.
Heat flashed in her cheeks, and her muscles tightened at the back of her neck. She should have known this would happen, but she had been foolish enough to cling to a thread of hope.
But, no, it was as she feared—as she ought to have expected. She walked around him to extract the typewriter from the hidden compartment in the wall and uncapped the case.
“I’ll make this right, Elaine,” Etienne said.
She glanced up. Now that she was closer, the exhaustion that bruised the delicate skin under his eyes was evident, as were the lines of his face, which had deepened since she last saw him. He was younger than Joseph, but now he looked older by several years.
“I know he was arrested by Werner, and I am poignantly aware of what that means.” Elaine wanted to hurl the lid of the typewriter in an explosion of rage, but instead set it gently on the floor. “I wish you would have been the one to tell me.”
Etienne blinked slowly, as if in pain. “I wanted to spare you such a detail.”
“I want to be told everything,” Elaine said through gritted teeth. “He is my husband.”
Etienne nodded.
“Was he tortured?” She held her breath, dreading the answer and yet needing to hear it.
After a long moment, Etienne nodded again.
An ache knotted in the pit of Elaine’s stomach with the confirmation of what she already suspected. She put a hand out to the table’s surface, using its support to steady herself.
“Elaine, I’m sorry I could not—”
The door opened. “Bonjour,” Nicole sang out. “I found bread yesterday and a small bit of cheese.” Her entrance was followed by the clunk of her shoes being kicked off.
The time of Nicole’s arrival allowed Elaine to compose herself as the other woman hastened to the kitchen to deposit the food before she joined them in the living room. She smiled at Etienne. “Ah, Gabriel. I expect this means you have a fascinating new task for us.”
He gave one final look at Elaine and his features smoothed, ready to do business. “I do.”
Once Denise and Josette were with them, Etienne explained that they would be transporting pieces of a printing press from several locations to a warehouse on 35 Rue Viala. The weight of the items was considerable and required the utmost care as one broken piece might render the machine inoperable.
They all listened intently, Josette chewing at her nails as he spoke. Once he had finished, he took his leave and did not try to pull Elaine aside privately again, leaving them to eat the food Nicole procured in peace.
Regardless of the messenger, the mission was one Elaine found herself eager to embark upon. Their efforts would help release more newspapers and tracts, which would garner more support for the Resistance. Like the leaflets sent out in March that attracted so many recruits that the Savoy Maquis went from a group of only two hundred and fifty men to over five thousand.
The greater their numbers, the higher the likelihood of a swift victory. And the sooner Joseph would be released.
The success of the tracts with the Savoy Maquis was evidence that words did have power, even against a force such as the Nazis. And Elaine anticipated the opportunity to do her part to encourage France to rise together and fight.
Explosives did not tax Elaine’s shopping basket as much as the foreign roller object that lay crookedly against the woven side. The oblong shape reminded her of a rolling pin, though thinner and far heavier. It was concealed beneath several pathetically small carrots, a bundle of rutabagas, and as much bread as she was allowed to buy for the week. Or rather, as much as she was able to find. More often than not, they couldn’t receive their full allotment due to limited stock.