Her chest went tight. “What is it?”
He gave a small, incredulous laugh. “It appears your message has been received.”
Elaine sucked in a breath of surprise. London had her message. She had anticipated someone within France would be the likely candidate to offer aid. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine help would come from London.
“Just because they have received your request doesn’t mean they’ll do anything,” Antoine cautioned.
“I know,” she replied, unable to stop her grin.
He resumed his work with a disbelieving grunt, but she saw the hint of a smile on his lips before he bent his head once more. No matter how many warnings he might offer, Elaine would not be discouraged.
That afternoon she and Jean worked side by side together, setting the typography for the upcoming edition of Combat.
“Bonjour.” Nicole’s singsong voice tinkled over the clatter of the automatic press.
“Bonjour, Nicole,” Jean called back with a shy wave. “You look beautiful as always.”
She swept her hand through the air dismissively, but with apparent pleasure at his compliment.
Jean’s face flushed.
“You should talk to her,” Elaine said encouragingly in a whisper.
His head shook in vigorous refusal. With a sigh, she pushed up from the series of stacked typography slugs and approached Nicole, who was in deep conversation with Marcel. Elaine almost turned away until a familiar name caught her ears.
Josette.
“She is breaking,” Marcel said. “Tearing apart at the seams. We cannot afford—”
“She’s fine,” Nicole insisted. “I’ll care for her.”
“Is she worth risking your life for?” Marcel pressed. “Risking your father’s and your brother’s?”
“That isn’t fair.”
“War is not fair.”
Nicole caught sight of Elaine and called out with a wave, her expression set in forced joy, her cheeks blazing with color.
“Ma chérie, how are you?” Nicole asked, embracing her.
“Worried,” Elaine answered honestly in a voice she knew Marcel wouldn’t overhear. “About Josette. And about you helping her.”
Nicole laughed off the warning. “She’ll be fine.”
“She’s not well, Nicole.”
Something flickered in her pale blue eyes, but she brushed it off as she did all concerns tossed her way, as if they were pesky gnats to be swatted. Truly no one in all of France possessed the bravado of Nicole, which made Elaine worry all the more.
“Do not be such a hen, Elaine.” Her gaze was kind as she said it. “Trust me, please.”
Elaine nodded slowly, but even as she did so, she could not stop her internal arguments from picking at Nicole’s misplaced faith. But Nicole was a force to be reckoned with, more so than even Denise. Nicole couldn’t be cautioned; she would have to see for herself.
Elaine only hoped that would happen before it was too late.
That afternoon, once the typography was set and the latest edition was automatically winding its way through the printing press, Elaine decided to take her mind off the exchange with Nicole by paying a visit to Manon. An earlier appointment with a black-market supplier left the warehouse kitchen well stocked enough to bring some extras to Sarah and Noah. With the greatest care, Elaine packed her shopping basket with a sack of lentils that might carry them through the week, two eggs, and a precious pot of strawberry jam. The latter had come at a steep price, but Elaine’s memory of Noah’s enjoyment of the treat had made the expense worthwhile.