Wild Lavender (55 page)

Given what the contact had said, I wondered if it would be wiser to keep Odette and Petite Simone in Paris, either
concealing them in my apartment or taking them to one of the network’s safe houses. I stopped at a café, to rest my feet and consider the matter. Like a chilling omen, no sooner had I sat down than I caught the conversation of two men sitting behind me.

‘They are offering rewards for anyone who denounces Jews or reveals who is hiding them.’

‘What kind of rewards?’ his companion asked.

‘You might get to keep their apartment and furniture.’

I tried to finish my chicory coffee as calmly as I could, but my heart was thumping in my chest. Was this what human beings had become? Greedy people who would denounce a family so they could sit on their sofa or admire the view from their apartment? I did my best to think clearly. Odette was known to many people in the entertainment business in Paris. Taking her and Petite Simone across the city with their false papers would be as dangerous as trying to get them onto a train south. But the final encouragement I needed to get them out of Paris was handed to me by Madame Goux when I arrived home.

‘They put it under the door,’ she said, passing me an envelope with my name written on it.

I opened it and found a leaflet inside. It was a notice from the Germans about the deportation of Jews. The line, ‘
Those who help the Jews will suffer the fate of the Jews
’, had been circled in red.

‘Is it a threat?’ I asked. ‘Are we being spied on?’ When I thought about it more, I realised it had probably come from one of the network members. Somebody was trying to warn me.

Odette and I wasted no time in packing and going directly to Gare de Lyon to catch a train south. To my relief, the station wasn’t any more crowded than it had been the other times I had travelled with agents and servicemen. It seemed a mass exodus of Jews with false papers trying to escape Paris wasn’t happening that night. Although we hadn’t reserved seats, I was able to get us places in first class.

‘Enjoy your journey,’ said the ticket vendor.

‘I’m sure I will,’ I said. I smiled although my heart was racing.

This would be my last journey from Paris to the south. Every other trip I had made, I had been successful in getting my ‘parcels’ across the border. Odette and Petite Simone were less suspicious-looking than the men I had accompanied. I prayed that we would make it to Lyon safely. André would be able to help us from there.

Odette and Petite Simone were sitting on a bench waiting for me. I showed them the tickets. I admired Odette for the calm she was trying to project. She had a piece of sewing on her lap and worked at it as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

‘Let’s go,’ I said.

Petite Simone slipped her hand into mine and said, ‘I love you, Tante Simone.’

‘I love you too,’ I told her, stopping a moment to kiss her cheeks.

The conductor greeted us without suspicion when we climbed on board the train. A German official checked our papers in the corridor. He gave mine a quick glance, but he read Odette’s thoroughly and checked the picture.

‘You are from the south originally?’ he asked her, looking over her clothes. She was wearing a navy blue suit with satin lapels that I had given her from my wardrobe. She looked very Parisian but that was the idea.

‘Yes
,
’ she answered. ‘But I have lived in Paris most of my life.’

Petite Simone held up Marie to the German. To my surprise, he smiled at her. He handed the papers back to Odette and waved us on.

Odette and I took our seats in the compartment, placing Petite Simone near the window. We were so terrified that we couldn’t bring ourselves to speak. I took Odette’s hand and squeezed it. Her skin was like ice. She picked up her sewing and continued, although her fingers were trembling. I glanced at my watch. Seven minutes to departure. There would be
more checks on the journey, but I was sure that if we could get away from Paris we would somehow be all right.

More passengers boarded the train. Every time somebody walked past our compartment, my heart jumped. I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat, trying to relax. I could hear the hiss of the engine. It wouldn’t be long now. The door to our compartment rattled open. Four German officers glanced in, then realised that they had the wrong seat numbers. They apologised and moved on. I scarcely dared breathe. It would have been easier to travel third class, but because of my reputation that was impossible. I prayed with all my might that we should not end up with a compartment full of Germans. I felt in my pocket for the rabbit bone my mother had given me and realised that in our hurry to exit the apartment I had left it on my bed. I glanced at my watch. Four minutes to go.

I looked out at the platform. It was almost empty. We might even have the compartment to ourselves if we were lucky. I relaxed and stood up to get a book out of my travel bag which was on the rack above me. At that moment the door to our compartment opened. A cold shadow crawled up my back. I turned around. At first I thought my terrified mind had produced a hallucination, but the longer I stared the more the black hair and sharp teeth became real. Colonel von Loringhoven.

‘Mademoiselle Fleurier,’ he said. ‘What a surprise. I thought I had the compartment to myself.’

He smiled at Odette and Petite Simone. His grin seemed to tighten the skin on his face, as if there were another person underneath trying to push himself out. I was proud of Petite Simone for not screaming, for that was the effect the colonel’s smile would have had on me if I had been her age.

‘Really?’ I said, recovering as quickly as I could. ‘We wouldn’t want to inconvenience you. We can change if you need the compartment to yourself.’

I was careful that my tone was one of generosity on my part, rather than acquiescence. Stars never gave up their
compartments; we never gave up anything. But in these circumstances it would have been a relief to sit in the coal carriage rather than travel with von Loringhoven.

‘That won’t be necessary,’ he said. ‘In fact, it is a delightful coincidence. I had always hoped that we could become better acquainted.’

His gaze drifted again from me to Odette and Petite Simone; there was something treacherous in it that I did not like. I did my best impression of a pleased smile and introduced Odette and Petite Simone. We had told Petite Simone that if anyone else sat in the carriage she must be very quiet. My heart melted when I saw how tightly she pursed her lips.

‘I am charmed to meet you,’ Colonel von Loringhoven said to Odette. ‘I didn’t realise that Mademoiselle Fleurier had relations in Paris.’

Odette did not miss a beat. ‘We are very distant relations and have always thought of ourselves more as friends. I used to go to watch Simone sing when she first started out.’

Odette’s fingers were steady in her lap but drops of sweat were pooling around her hairline. Would von Loringhoven notice?

I glanced at my watch. Two minutes to go. Once we were moving I could make an excuse for an early meal in the dining car, and after that we could pretend to sleep. The train let out a hiss of steam.

‘Excuse me a moment,’ said Colonel von Loringhoven, standing up. He gave no explanation of where he was going, but as soon as he was out of the compartment Odette glanced at me. Had von Loringhoven guessed something? But if we got off the train now it would look suspicious.

‘Look,’ said Petite Simone, pressing her face against the window. ‘There’s that man.’

I looked out the window and saw the colonel talking to two German soldiers and pointing in our direction. The whistle sounded and the train began to shunt forward. ‘Thank God,’ I said, and almost laughed. Colonel von
Loringhoven was going to miss the train. But one of the German soldiers shouted out and the train came to an abrupt stop, its wheels screeching on the tracks.

‘He knows,’ gasped Odette.

‘Let’s go!’ I screamed, picking up Petite Simone and running for the door. There were suitcases in the corridor but I struggled past them, bruising my legs and ripping my stockings. Odette scrambled after me. The conductor saw us coming. For a moment I thought he was going to block our way. Instead he said, ‘Not out this door. Go through second class.’

We ran past the surprised-looking passengers and jumped from the train onto the platform. ‘Come on!’ I cried to Odette over my shoulder. ‘Make a run for the entrance.’

I pushed past a ticket controller who was too surprised to react. I could see the station entrance ahead. Odette let out a shriek. I turned to see a German soldier wrestling her to the ground.

‘Run!’ she screamed at me.

For a dreadful second I was torn between stopping and running. ‘Run!’ Odette screamed again. There was nothing I could do to help her. The best I could do was to save Petite Simone. Turning my back on Odette made my heart tear like a sheet of paper, but I tucked Petite Simone onto my back, kicked my shoes off and propelled myself forward with every ounce of strength in my body.

‘Maman! Maman!’ Petite Simone cried, and struggled, but I held her tightly. I heard Germans behind me shouting to stop or they would shoot. But I knew that not even they would shoot in a station. The entrance was a few metres ahead. My heart was cramping and I was struggling for air. I thought I was going to pass out but I was determined to escape. There wasn’t a German in sight ahead of me.

We are going to make it! I told my trembling limbs. We are going to make it!

A blur of blue crossed my eyes. A French policeman who I hadn’t noticed made a lunge for me. He crashed into my
hip and sent me sprawling across the floor. Petite Simone tumbled forward. A German soldier caught up with us and picked her up by the scruff of her coat. She kicked and bit at him but he held her tightly. I reached towards her but the policeman brought his truncheon down on the back of my neck. I collapsed to my knees, the pain shrieking down my spine, but managed to get up again and stagger forward. The policeman dealt me another blow, this time above my ear. I called to Petite Simone but he hit me again and again on my shoulders and back until I lost consciousness.

When I opened my eyes it was dark. My head throbbed and there was a stabbing pain in my shoulder. I was aware that I was lying face down on something hard and cold. A smell like rotting vegetation filled my nostrils. From somewhere behind me came the sound of dripping water. I tried to sit up but pain seared across my back. My arms gave way. I lapsed into unconsciousness again.

It must have been some hours later that I woke up. Flashes of morning light flickered on my arm. I raised my eyes and saw that the light was coming from a barred window. I was lying on a stone floor, its hardness pressing into my hips and knees. There was no sound other than the trickling of water down one of the walls.

I defied the agony and lifted myself up onto my elbows, wincing from the pain in my back and ribs. There was a straw mattress opposite the door. By sheer force of will, I managed to stand up. My head swam and my vision blurred. I swooned towards the bed and collapsed onto it, falling into a deep sleep.

The third time I woke I saw that the sun had disappeared from the window. But I could see a patch of blue sky and the air in the cell was warmer. I guessed it was the afternoon. I had no appetite but my throat was so dry that it was painful to swallow. There was no tap in the cell. Not even a pitcher of water. Just a putrid-smelling bucket in the
corner. I pressed my face against the musty mattress and wept for Odette and Petite Simone. Were they here too? Or had they been taken away?

The grille on the cell door opened and a guard looked in. A few moments later I heard him push the key into the lock. The door squealed open and banged against the wall.

‘Stand up,’ he shouted.

I could see that protesting would not do any good. I forced myself to my feet but my legs gave way beneath me. I realised that my right knee was so swollen I couldn’t close my legs. Compared to the other pains in my body, I had scarcely noticed it until then. The guard stood behind me and grabbed me underneath the arms. Another guard came in and clamped chains around my ankles.

‘Walk!’ the first guard ordered, shoving me forward.

With my full weight on my knee and the extra burden of the chains, walking was excruciating. I limped a few steps then fell. The guard who had chained me stepped forward. I instinctively covered my head, expecting a blow from a truncheon, but instead he grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked me up again. The other guard put his arm around mine and supported me. I shuffled alongside him down a dim corridor. The only light came from barred windows near the ceiling. I heard a shout then an explosion cracked the air. There was silence for a while before the sound broke the air again. I had not heard it before but I knew instinctively what it was: a firing squad. Was this how it was to be? I was going to be shot?

‘Where am I?’ I asked the guard who was walking in front.

‘Shut up! Don’t talk!’

I was taken down another corridor that ended with a flight of stairs. The guards had to lift me up them. Finally they dragged me into a room with only a chair and a light hanging from the ceiling. The guard who was holding me pushed me into the chair and handcuffed my hands behind me. Then they left without a word.

‘It is a shame to see a beautiful woman in such a state.’

The portent of evil in the voice sent a chill through me. I knew it was Colonel von Loringhoven, but I couldn’t see him. He stepped out of the darkness into the glare. My heart skipped a beat. I thought that must be how a pearl diver felt when he saw a flash of fin and tail emerge from the murky depths.

Von Loringhoven circled my chair, studying me from every angle. ‘Can I get you anything?’ he asked. ‘Some coffee? A cigarette? Some ice for your knee?’

I glanced down. My skirt was ripped and my mottled, deformed knee was exposed. I shook my head. There was nothing I wanted from von Loringhoven.

He disappeared into the darkness then reappeared with a chair. He scraped the legs along the floor and propped it into position opposite me.