“But we can’t walk to Paris!” Evelyn exclaimed. “We have to take the car!”
He shook his head. “No. Leave the car here and take mine.”
“We can’t do that! You’ll be in danger if they see the car here.”
Marcel went over to a hook on the wall and took down a set of keys.
“They won’t see it. I’ll cover it and leave it where I usually park mine. No one will even notice. Our cars are about the same size.” He carried the keys over to Jens and held them out. “You must take it!” he insisted when Jens hesitated. “Go to my flat in Paris. I’ll come as soon as it’s safe. We’ll switch cars again then.”
“Are you sure?” Jens asked, taking the keys. “What if the Germans get past Sedan and cross the Meuse tonight?”
“Then you’ll see me sooner,” Marcel replied dryly. “Now hurry. You must leave before they return, and I have to get your car covered and out of sight.”
He went over to a pad on the counter and scrawled an address on it, tearing the piece of paper off.
“Here’s the address in Paris.” He handed it to Evelyn with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll know just where it is.”
She looked down at the address and nodded. “I know this area.”
“I thought you might. Now you both must go. I’ll meet you there in a few days.”
Evelyn stood up and she and Jens turned towards the door. As she reached it, she turned back and held out her hand.
“Thank you,” she said, her eyes meeting his. “For everything. Without your warning, I would not have been prepared.”
He smiled and shook her hand. “Oh, I think you would have managed just fine,” he said slowly. “You’re stronger than you think.” He looked over to Jens and held out his hand. “You both are, even though I know you don’t feel that at the moment.”
“No, I don’t,” Jens admitted, shaking his hand.
“I know. Just remember that this, too, will pass, and you will be even stronger for it. Now go. And God speed to you.”
Paris, France
May 13
Late afternoon sun was pouring through the tall windows in the living room, filling the spacious room with light, when Evelyn walked in. She smiled at the sight of Jens fast asleep on the sofa. It was much too short for him and his legs hung over one end, sending a wave of remorse through her. They had arrived at Jean-Pierre’s apartment in the early hours of the morning, exhausted, and she had taken the bedroom without thinking. Now, looking at how uncomfortable Jens looked, Evelyn felt sorry for not offering to sleep on the couch. She would have been uncomfortable, but at least her legs wouldn’t have hung over the end.
She crossed the room quietly to the windows, being careful not to disturb the sleeping man. He had driven Jean-Pierre’s Renault through the winding French roads in the darkness like a man chased by a legion of demons, ignoring her offer to drive. He said he needed the distraction. Looking out the window over the city, she couldn’t fault him for that. They had both been shaken and horrified over what had happened in the house in Marle, and they had made most of the trip not knowing if their nightmare was over yet. He must have been struggling with the knowledge that he was the one who caused the accident. He would most likely struggle with it for the rest of his life. It didn’t seem to matter that Asp had been a traitor, and was clearly intent on causing serious bodily injury to one, or both, of them. A man was dead, and that was something they couldn’t unsee or undo.
Evelyn rubbed her arms, trying to ward off the chill the memory brought with it, and gazed down into the busy street below. She still couldn’t believe it had happened, really. It was like a horrible nightmare that was hazy in her recollection, but that she knew she’d had. But it wasn’t a dream, and they had left behind a dead body covered with a blanket in a shabby little sitting room in Marle. Did he have family? Someone to mourn him? She shook her head, almost as if she could shake away the thoughts. It did no good to think like this. It had happened. It was an accident, and he had died. She had to stop thinking about it. There was no point to dwelling on it.
Evelyn forced her thoughts away from Asp and instead to the package that was still safely concealed in her coat lining. She had to get it to London as soon as possible, but she couldn’t simply leave Jens to struggle as best as he could in a strange city. She looked over her shoulder at him, still asleep. What if the Germans did make it to Paris? He didn’t have anywhere to go, and if the worst happened, how would he fare as a foreigner in occupied France? For that matter, how would any of them fare? She returned her gaze to the streets below. What would happen to Josephine and Marc and Luc? What would happen to Gisele and Nicolas?
The thought of her cousins brought another wave of sadness. She wished she could go to see if they were still in Paris. She would feel so much better if she knew for sure that they had moved to the Chateau in the south with her aunt and uncle. At least then they would have time to flee to England if the Germans did sweep into Paris. If only she could go to the house and see them! But
