Or at least Nicole.
Josette’s youthful glow had dimmed to an unhealthy pallor in the time since Elaine had seen her last; even the luster of her brown curls seemed to have dulled. “It’s good to see you,” she said in a shy whisper, her smile tight.
The printing press churned in the background, and though Elaine was deaf to its clatter, Josette flinched with every bang.
“I trust these brutes are treating you well,” Nicole said aloud and looked pointedly at the men in a mock threat.
“She’s a fast learner.” Antoine lifted his head from his art and offered a kind smile at Elaine. “We’re glad to have her.”
“I’m thinking of teaching her how to use the Minerva.” Marcel indicated to the smaller press.
“Are you?” Elaine’s pulse spiked at the possibility of moving beyond the small duplicating machine and her clerical duties. Printing wasn’t done by women. But then, there were few men now to choose from. Why not a woman?
“I’ll need to go to Grenoble soon.” Marcel removed a stack of papers from the press and relocated them to the table where several others lay. They not only printed Combat, which was written by their team, but also Défence de la France for the southern region.
“Grenoble?” Nicole interjected. “Why, I’ve just come from there and have your stamps.”
What she held in the wicker’s false bottom was a precious treasure. The stamps were priceless in a time when rubber was so difficult to obtain and so integral. As each new stamp was introduced for travel passes and identity papers and everything in between, an inside contact who worked as a secretary in Lyon’s town hall provided them with information to replicate the originals.
“You can bring them over there.” Elaine pointed to the room where Jean had gone and smiled to herself as Nicole click-clacked her way toward him.
Elaine turned her attention to Josette. “Are you doing well?”
The printing press banged, and Josette cringed. “Yes.” The smile she plastered on her dry lips was anything other than genuine. “Of course I am.”
Despite her obvious attempt to nudge away Elaine’s concern, Josette’s nerves were raw, her fear so visceral Elaine caught its metallic odor over the pulpy, velvety aromas of ink and paper.
“Denise has gone to join the Maquis, so it’s just Nicole and I now.” Josette brought her hand to her mouth and nipped at the cropped nail bed with her front teeth, the action distracted and without thought.
Her behavior was distressing.
Elaine had never been much of a maternal woman, but found herself wanting to draw Josette into her arms and comfort her as one did a frightened child.
“And you are certain you are well?” Elaine pressed.
Josette chewed at the mutilated nail, saying nothing for the moment stretching between them. Elaine almost thought the other woman might offer a real answer in the silence, but then Josette nodded, her eyes squinting in a mock smile. “I’m fine.”
She wasn’t fine. Alarmingly so.
Nicole sauntered over to them, her lightened basket swinging in her hand. Elaine embraced her and whispered discreetly into her friend’s ear. “Will Josette be all right?”
“I’ll be sure of it.” Nicole straightened with a bright smile, and the two were off to resume their work on messages for deliveries.
“What do you think of Josette?” Marcel asked after the women departed.
Knowing her reply might result in Josette being pulled from her duties, Elaine remained quiet. But no matter how hard she tried, she could not allow herself to be reassured by Nicole’s glib response.