Alex pushed the bike off the road and removed the goggles and leather helmet, flinching as it brushed over the bruise on his forehead. Fresh blood seeped through the bandage.
‘Are you all right?’
He shrugged and echoed my own words: ‘I’m alive.’ He removed the motorcycle’s identity plate and buried it some feet away, stamping hard on the earth. ‘Let’s keep it that way, eh?’
Sinclair took off his jacket and slung it over his shoulder. Without the stripes and lightning bolts, he was Alex once again, no longer SS officer Heini Weber. It was a dangerous look, but the sun was hot, and a man, even an SS officer, might relax when walking alone with his girl.
‘Do you have a plan?’ he asked.
I didn’t, but wasn’t about to admit that.
‘Our best bet is to link up with the local Resistance. Then we get you on a boat back to Blighty.’
‘What about you?’
‘If they’ll have me, I’ll stay here. Continue working with the Resistance.’
His tone was a cross between curiosity and suspicion.
‘Why wouldn’t they have you?’
That surprised me; I’d expected him to ask why they would want me.
‘I . . . ah, I’ve had a run of bad luck lately.’
He burst out laughing. ‘You think?’
‘Don’t be difficult. If there aren’t any posters warning people about me yet, there may be soon enough.’
Now he was serious. ‘What have you done?’
I met his eyes, offering no apology.
‘I’ve survived.’
*
Necessity proved a better teacher than the nuns, and we continued the German lessons as we walked, peppering them with a light banter that allowed both of us to pretend that the danger had receded. As his confidence grew, Alex spoke of his home, his family, his love of flying.
‘Ye’re a very good listener, Nathalie,’ he said. ‘But ye don’t offer much, do ye?’
I wanted to talk to him, to tell him what had happened, how I got here. Already a strange sort of bond was forming between us. The couriers hadn’t really mentioned this phenomenon, and I hadn’t thought to ask whether it was usual or not. Whether they were able to keep themselves remote from the men they escorted, because I knew I was slipping.
Despite that, something held me back. Maybe it was my training, maybe the experience working with the Resistance, but I knew what a careless slip could do. I could offer Alex my friendship, but not my trust. Not yet.
‘It’s easier that way.’
He could have said something sarcastic; I knew my reply stung, but instead he nodded.
‘Fine. But please, whatever ye do choose to tell me, let it be th’ truth.’
Very aware that I hadn’t even given him my real name, I tried to smile.
‘Moving forward,’ he added.
‘Thank you.’ I nodded. ‘Are you upset?’
He seemed to think about that for a few steps.
‘No. Your secrets are yer own to tell.’ His smile was shy. ‘Maybe ye’ll tell me when ye’re ready.’
‘Maybe.’
He looked at the sky, clear and starry. The moon was nearing full and was bright enough for a pilot to see by, a drop to be made. We could have continued walking, but my legs hurt, in fact, my entire body ached.
‘Let’s bed down here,’ he suggested before I could. ‘It’s a mild night, and maybe safer out here in the middle of a field, than in a town.’
‘Sensible.’
I dropped my handbag and sank to the ground, ignoring his laugh. Under normal circumstances, I’d have suggested that we took turns sleeping, but if either of us was awake in five minutes it would be nothing short of a miracle. I stretched out, using the bag as a pillow, the pistol at my side.
‘The wildlife will let us know if anyone comes close.’
Alex was slower to lie down. ‘Nathalie?’
I opened one eye. ‘Yes?’
He rested his head on his neatly folded tunic. Stared at the sky and said, ‘I’m glad ye’re here.’
His hand reached across and squeezed mine.
Unsure whether he saw my smile, I closed my eye and answered, ‘I’m glad you’re here too, Alex. Goodnight.’
What woke me was Alex’s nightmare. Arms like steel pulled me close against his chest, the buttons of his shirt digging into my cheek. His teeth ground together, making a horrible sound, and his face contorted as if he were in pain.
‘Alex?’ I squirmed to free myself – to breathe.
He mumbled something and released me, rolling to his side in a foetal position. Awake now, I studied his face. It was difficult to believe I’d only just met him. Impossible to comprehend how much had elapsed in that time – in the last week, for that matter. I reached out, lightly holding his shoulder until the nightmare released him. His features softened to childlike innocence. Brushing a lock of sandy hair from his face, I impulsively dropped a kiss on his forehead.
Strong arms pulled me back, this time protectively. Chaste as it was, it was the first time I’d slept in the arms of a man other than my husband. He would be horrified if he could see me now. A filthy ragamuffin, in the arms of a strange man. A spy on the run.
I bit my lip and turned away from Alex. Philip wasn’t here to judge me; he’d left to go to war, and became one of its casualties. I’d get Alex Sinclair back to England and then would find myself another Resistance cell to work with.
There was still work to be done.
Chapter Five
A pleasant monotony of wheat sheaves waved in the breeze, one field indistinguishable from the next, until something marred the uniformity. A slim line slashed through the field, about a third of the way in. Swearing reverently, I moved towards it, the pain in my body dissolving with budding excitement.
‘What do you see?’ Alex asked, following me.
Two faint, parallel ruts bisected the field. I squatted beside one depression and allowed my fingers to trail along it.
‘A plane
