Her reply was surprising, and my face betrayed my feelings.
‘Now, now,’ she added. ‘Do not feel hurt, Joelle. I still love you. I will miss you with all of my heart. But please don’t worry about me.’
I hugged her then and shed more tears.
‘You are in the spring of your existence,’ she told me. ‘For me, winter has set in. Cry for your beloved parents, but not for me, chérie. I have lived a long and mostly happy life. Yours is only just beginning.’
‘But without you, and Maman and Papa, and Beatrice and Claude, I will be left all alone. Who will I turn to when I need help or advice?’
She touched my chest, right over my heart.
‘You carry us in here,’ she told me. ‘Trust what you know and what you believe. Be kind, be brave, be strong.’
‘But…’
‘Shh!’ she insisted. ‘Let me smell your hair for one last time. You know, I did so when you were first born?’
I nodded.
‘Sweet Joelle,’ she said. ‘My beautiful love.’
We left an hour later, and Mrs Moreau told me not to look back. Mo sensed my pain and took my hand.
‘I did not understand the words you spoke,’ he told me. ‘Only the emotions. But I am here for you now, Joelle. I promised your mother and I will not break that oath.’
‘But you will leave for England eventually,’ I replied. ‘What will become of me then?’
‘I will not leave without you,’ he told me. ‘Even if I have to take you with me.’
‘To England?’
He nodded.
‘Why not?’ he asked. ‘It is my duty to protect you now.’
Beatrice shushed us.
‘We must move quickly,’ she said. ‘The Germans will be on our trail.’
We took an alleyway that ran beside the main square, behind my parents’ bakery and on towards the north end of town. I faltered a moment, thinking about how the ovens would grow cold now, without Papa to tend to them. Had hope died too, I wondered. Had all been lost?
‘The ovens?’ asked Mo, as though he’d read my mind.
I nodded.
‘Carry the fire within you,’ he told me. ‘Like my hair, the ovens are just the outward sign. The real hope lies inside you.’
We reached the street and stopped, stepping into shadows as a two-man patrol passed by. The soldiers seemed bored and lacking in focus. They did not notice the alley in which we were hiding.
‘Now!’ said Beatrice.
We hurried across the narrow road and down another alley. Ahead of us lay the northern part of town, and beyond that open countryside.
‘The safe house is near,’ Beatrice told us. ‘We must be careful.’
Stopping in the shadows, we caught our breath and waited. The streets were quiet and there was no sign of the enemy.
‘What shall we do when we arrive?’ Beatrice asked.
‘Make sure it’s safe,’ Mo replied. ‘Any danger and we run.’
‘But, Vincent?’ Beatrice added. ‘He must pay for betraying us.’
‘We need him,’ Mo told her. ‘Otherwise our plan will fail.’
I kept quiet, trusting in Mo and his scheme. Five minutes later, we arrived at the safe house – a stone cottage that sat with three others on the edge of town. We checked for soldiers and for anyone watching from the cottage windows. The coast was clear. There was an outhouse, only fifteen feet from the door but well in shadow. We used it as cover. Mo went over the plan once again.
‘Right,’ said Beatrice in French. ‘Here we go…’
She stepped from the shadows and walked quickly along the path. At the front door, she knocked three times. Mo tensed, as though he was expecting trouble.
‘If anything happens,’ he whispered to me, ‘you stay here. Understand?’
I nodded. Vincent opened the door and looked past Beatrice.
‘Where is he?’ I heard him ask.
‘He is heading south,’ Beatrice told Vincent. ‘We heard of the arrests and made a new plan.’
‘But your orders were to bring him here yesterday!’ Vincent told her.
He was angry.
‘After what happened?’ asked Beatrice. ‘No – we must all run.’
‘You are going after the pilot?’
Beatrice shook her head.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m heading to Lille, to stay with family there. After Claude’s death, I have no other choice.’
Vincent considered her words. I could almost sense his Judas brain working overtime. He was weighing things up, I was sure of it. Did he betray Beatrice, or did he run and tell his masters where Mo was going? Eventually, he nodded.
‘Okay,’ he replied. ‘But I will stay and rebuild the Resistance here.’
Beatrice clenched her fists then, and I worried that her rage might ruin our plan. I could understand her hatred for Vincent. My own ran as deep, but we had no choice. We needed the traitor to fall for our plan. Thankfully, she soon relaxed and bid Vincent farewell. The traitorous dog shut the door on her, and she headed back our way. As she neared, she whispered.
‘Does he watch from the windows?’ she said in English.
‘No,’ Mo whispered in reply. ‘He’s probably already on the radio to the Germans.’
Beatrice ducked into the outhouse and I pulled the door shut. A narrow gap in the frame allowed Mo to continue watching the cottage. It took ten minutes, but eventually Vincent appeared. He picked up a bicycle and rode off, completely unaware of our proximity.
Once he was gone, we emerged.
‘So, what now?’ I asked.
Mo shrugged.
‘Vincent will tell the Germans everything,’ he said. ‘They’ll probably ignore Beatrice and go south. I’m much more valuable to them.’
‘But if they go south, our journey becomes far more difficult,’ I replied. That hadn’t been part of Mo’s original plan.
Mo and Beatrice smiled.
‘We’re going north,’ said Mo.
‘North?’ I asked. ‘But that will take us deeper into the German-controlled zone.’
‘Exactly,’ said Mo. ‘It would be a suicide mission and completely silly. They won’t suspect a thing.’
We raided the cottage for supplies and tools, filling three bags. We also borrowed coats and gloves, and Mo changed into different boots. Then we stepped back into the biting cold, ready to make our journey north.
‘Are you sure about this?’ I asked.
Mo
