Darkest Longings (81 page)

Claudine. ‘Is it all right if I smoke a cigarette?’ he said.

‘Do you normally?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then carry on.’

Yves and Thomas were already filling their arms with

firewood, and Claudine took off her bicycle basket and

began to stuff it full of leaves. Francois’ thick leather gloves

were hampering her, so despite the bitter cold she tugged

them off and pushed them into the pocket of her black

sheepskin jacket. She was wearing two pairs of knitted

stockings beneath her jodhpurs and fleece-lined boots, and

the black woollen hat Armand had given her was pulled

snugly down over her ears, covering her hair.

Just as they were leaving the barn to make their first trip

across the field, Armand came back. ‘The others are

arriving,’ he said quietly. ‘Lucien’s with them.’

And at that moment Lucien appeared from under the

trees. He ran quickly towards them with three others in his

wake; he greeted Claudine with a kiss, then they set about

helping to build the bonfires.

By the time they heard the distant rumble of a truck, all

the hard work had been accomplished and Claudine’s

hands and face were tingling with the cold. ‘At last,’ Lucien

muttered. ‘What kept him?’

‘But we don’t know if it is Jacques,’ Armand warned, and

at once they all took cover, behind the bonfires or in the long

grass at the edge of the copse.

It seemed an eternity before, with a crashing of gears, the

truck finally came round the bend, and Claudine could feel

the damp seeping through her clothes. ‘It’s him,’ Lucien

said, as soon as it came into view, ‘tell him to leave it there in

the lay-by.’ And not bothering to wait, he ran back to the

bonfires.

As the truck came to a halt Claudine dashed over to it,

told Jacques where to park, then took him and the four other

men to the barn, where the bicycles they would need later

were waiting. She recognized them all, but knew only their

codes names.

‘Antoinette,’ one of them whispered, ‘this bicycle has a

puncture.’

‘Oh no!’ Claudine groaned. ‘What are we going to do?

Well, never mind, one of you will have to go back in the

truck with Lucien and Jacques.’

Outside, the wind was picking up, clouds had scudded

across the moon. Claudine was freezing, but there was so

much adrenalin pumping through her veins that she hardly

noticed.

It was just as they finished dousing the bonfires with fuel

that Armand heard the drone of an aircraft. Everyone

stopped to listen. At first Claudine heard nothing, then after

a while she too heard the distant hum.

‘Quick!’ Lucien said, pulling matches from his pocket

‘Get them alight!’

Within minutes the bonfires were ablaze, roaring like

thunder and shooting sparks far into the sky. The whole

party withdrew to the shelter of the trees to watch. Surely no

one could fail to see the bonfires, Claudine thought

fearfully; not the pilot, and not the Germans either.

‘Don’t worry,’ Lucien whispered, seeing her taut face in

the firelight. ‘It’s always like this.’

At that moment Yves, unable to contain his excitement,

yelled, ‘Look! There it is! The plane!’

And as they all turned their faces to the sky, the nose, then

the wings, then the tail of a Whitley bomber emerged from a

cloud to glide magnificently across the face of the moon.

Claudine’s heart flooded with emotion. To think that

something like this could happen as a result of a peculiar

system of dots and dashes and cryptic wireless messages was

so amazing as to be miraculous.

‘Here they come,’ Armand murmured - and tiny, barely

distinguishable black shapes began to fall into the sky. A few

minutes later the first parachute ballooned, then another

and another.

‘Cat magnifique!’ Thomas exclaimed.

‘Shut up!’ Lucien hissed suddenly. ‘Listen!’ Then they

all heard it, Jacques’ voice screaming, ‘Les Boches! Les

Boches!’

‘Quick!’ Lucien yelled. ‘Run! Everyone run!’

He dashed towards the truck, but as Claudine made to

follow, Armand caught her. ‘This way!’ he shouted. ‘Keep

away from the road!’

Black figures were darting in every direction as the Resistants tried to escape. Before Claudine had time to argue, Armand was dragging her across the field, past the

bonfires towards the open countryside. They were running

into the wind and the ground was full of pot-holes, but every

time she stumbled Armand pulled her up and forced her on.

The cold night air burned in her lungs, and she thought of

the agents, even now parachuting down from the sky,

helpless and abandoned.

Suddenly it was as though the whole world had been lit

up. Armand hesitated and both threw a quick glance over

their shoulders, only to be dazzled by the headlights

pursuing them.

‘Merde!’ Armand growled. Then, spotting a clump of

bushes a few feet away, he pushed Claudine towards them.

She dived in, tearing her hands and face on the brambles.

Armand gave her another quick shove, and she was through.

He followed, hauled her to the ground and half-covered her

with his body. They were in a ditch, thick with mud and

rainwater. Claudine’s hat had vanished and her hair was

trapped beneath Armand’s arm. The pain of it was

excruciating, but she didn’t dare make a sound. The left

side of her face was submerged in the icy water, all she could

do was twist her neck just enough to be able to breathe, and

hold herself there. She could feel Armand’s heart pounding

against her shoulder, and tried to concentrate on counting

the beats, but the pain was agonizing. Through the bushes

she could see the bobbing headlights of the German jeep

coming towards them. The roar of the engine grew to a peak

and she could hear someone shouting above the din, telling

them to come out.

‘Don’t move,’ Armand muttered.

With her eyes almost bursting from her head, Claudine

watched the lights come straight at the bushes. This was it,

they’d been caught, and God only knew what lay in store

now…

‘I don’t believe it,’ she heard Armand gasp. ‘They’ve gone

right past us.’

She lifted her head, and at last Armand shifted his weight

onto his other arm, freeing her hair.

‘Look, they’re going… They think we’ve gone into the

village,’ he said.

But the words were hardly out of his mouth before they

saw that the jeep was turning round. It was heading back

towards them.

‘Got your gun?’ Armand said, grabbing his own from his

jacket. ‘Then use it!’

But before she could even get her hand to her pocket, the

jeep suddenly sped towards them, veered off at the last

minute and came to a halt. Then the world was plunged into

darkness as the headlights were turned off. There was a

deathly silence. Then, as Armand cocked the trigger of his

gun, there was a deafening explosion that seemed to echo on

for ever.

It was several seconds before either of them pulled their

faces out of the water, then Claudine tried to get up.

‘What are you doing, for God’s sake?’ Armand hissed,

snatching her back.

‘Armand, we don’t stand a chance. That was a machine

gun.’

‘We are waiting!’ a voice sang into the night.

‘We can’t give ourselves up, Claudine,’ Armand moaned,

and she suddenly realized that he was shaking all over. But

before she could speak there was another volley of machine

gun fire. The bullets splattered into the swamp behind

them.

‘If we don’t go now, they’ll kill us with that thing,’

Claudine hissed.

‘I’d rather that than be tortured,’ Armand responded, his

voice twisted with fear.

‘Pull yourself together!’ she spat. ‘You shouldn’t… Oh

my God!’

Armand followed the direction of her gaze. Poised on the

edge of the ditch, no more that three feet away, was a pair of

gleaming black jackboots.

Claudine started to look up, but before she had raised her

head more than an inch Armand was dragged from on top of

her. She started to roll over, going instinctively for the gun, but

someone caught her by the hair and heaved her to her feet.

She was on the point of slamming her foot into his shins when

she became aware of the gun digging into her back.

‘Let go of my hair!’ she hissed.

The grip tightened for an instant, then the German threw

her forward onto her knees. She turned to look at him, but

he pressed the gun hard against her temple. There was a

dull thud, and turning back she saw Armand stagger

forward, groaning in agony. His assailant stood over him, the butt of his rifle still brandished. His uniform and status Claudine recognized only too well, it was the same as

Francois’, but his face was unknown to her.

‘On your feet!’ he barked at Armand. Then nodding to

the officer standing behind Claudine, he said, ‘Check her

for weapons, then bring her to the car.’

It was only then, as she glanced about her, that Claudine

realized they were completely surrounded. Where so many

Germans had come from she couldn’t imagine, but as they

were jostled about in the jeep on their way back to the road,

she could be in no doubt that the whole time they had been

building the bonfires and waiting for the aircraft, they had

been watched. And once the parachutes had started to come

down, when it was too late to stop them, the Germans had

struck. And the size and accuracy of their operation could

only mean that someone had told them about the drop long

before tonight.

They were driven to a lorry which was waiting out on the

road beside the crucifix. Shivering and soaked to the skin,

Claudine was shoved inside. She fell against the step as she

got in, and a hand reached out of the darkness to help her.

When she looked up, she saw to her dismay, that it belonged

to Thomas.

‘Is Armand with you?’ he whispered.

‘Yes.’

‘Then no one’s got away.’ ‘Not even Lucien?’

Thomas shook his head. ‘He’s here. He’s unconscious.’

And looking down beside Thomas, Claudine could just

make out Lucien, lying pale and still on the floor.

A few minutes later the rear flap of the lorry was snapped

into place, and they started to roll down the hill.

It was then that Claudine experienced the first stabbings

of real terror. Immediately she thought of Francois. Which

was she more afraid of, she wondered: what Francois would ;

do to her when he found out, or what the Gestapo would do when they questioned her? A silly grin spread across her face. It was such a preposterous thought that it made, her giggle, and the German officer sitting beside her threw her a nasty look. She tried to stifle it, but without success, and this time the officer told her to shut up. But by now the entire

lorry was filled with the sound of her screaming, brittle

laughter, and it was evident to everyone on board that she

was on the edge of hysteria.

A sharp crack on her skull brought her reeling back to

reality. As the blood trickled down her face she suddenly

remembered what torture had done to Francois’ body, and

dimly she wondered if she would be able to tolerate the pain

that lay in store for her.

By the time dawn broke Celine had to admit to herself at last that something had gone terribly wrong. She had waited throughout the night for Claudine to return, but in vain, and

when she cycled down to Liliane’s cottage an hour after

daybreak, her worst fears were confirmed. Gustave was

mere, trying to comfort the old lady. He was able to tell

Celine everything.

And now Celine had not only to break the news of Claudine’s and Lucien’s arrest to Solange, she had to get word somehow to Francois. But she didn’t know where he

was staying, all she knew was that he was somewhere in

Vichy. And even if she did manage to find him, what could

he actually do? Claudine, Lucien, Armand - they had all

been caught redhanded.

It was not until she was cycling back up the drive to the

chateau that she suddenly thought of Beavis. Her heart gave

a leap, and immediately she turned her bicycle round and

. started back to the village. Gustave would know how to get a

message to London, and if she could somehow make

contact with Beavis, then maybe - just maybe - he could

find a way of getting to Lorvoire. Celine didn’t stop to think

of the difficulties involved, nor of how Beavis would be

putting his own life at risk if he did come; all she knew was

that in order to rescue Claudine and the others Francois was

going to need all the help he could get.

‘Ah, Max, there you are,’ von Liebermann said, as Helber

walked into the General’s room at the Hotel Louis XV in

Vichy. ‘Did you make contact with Blomberg?’

‘Yes, General. My brother-in-law informs me that

everything went according to plan. De Lorvoire’s wife and

her Resistance group are all in custody.’