‘My girlfriend is so clumsy. If it isn’t bad enough that she packed half her house, I’m the one who has to carry it.’ He leaned forward to the guard, whispering, ‘I think I will find a different girlfriend. This one is hopeless.’
The German, bewildered, studied the pair. Terrier began searching for his own papers, swaying, pretending he was intoxicated.
‘I’m sorry,’ he slurred, thrusting his beret back on his head. ‘We had a little celebration last night.’ He lurched on his feet, continuing to sway, and belched. Disgusted, the guard stepped backwards.
‘Your papers, monsieur?’ he growled, obviously annoyed. But he had already moved on from Vivi and her suitcase.
Terrier found his papers and handed them over, continuing his story just for good measure. ‘At our party last night,’ he said, brushing Vivi’s face as he proceeded to participate in his performance, ‘my woman, she had too much to drink.’ Vivi tried not to reveal her surprise as he tapped her cheek. ‘It has made her a little worse for wear this morning, you know,’ he declared, taking hold of Vivi’s hand, patting it between both of his.
She tried to smile meekly, realising how inept she was at this. The German officer nodded in response and, thrusting back their papers, exited the carriage, slamming the door. And he was gone.
The Terrier sat down in the seat and grinned broadly. Vivi was so overcome she worried she might actually be sick.
‘You look so pale,’ he remarked. ‘Which, I suppose, for someone who also has a hangover is more plausible.’
‘Is that why you suggested it?’ she enquired in a whisper.
‘You looked frightened to death. It concerned me he would suspect something. This way he would not demand any further questions.’
She nodded, grateful for his insight. Even though other guards checked them twice more before Paris, it went uneventfully. After Terrier had passed back her case, Vivi had secured it under her seat. She also kept her papers in her pocket so she wouldn’t have a recurrence of what had taken place previously.
As they continued, she looked across at Terrier as he finished a sandwich Anne-Marie had packed, then lit a cigarette and sat staring out of the window watching the whole of France pass by. Vivi’s heart started to swell as she watched him, she was so grateful for his bravery and resourcefulness. She was trained and knew what to do in combat or as a courier, and how to decode a message in record time, but Vivi realised as she stared over at Terrier there were other skills she didn’t possess: the ability to adapt to unexpected situations as they arose, and his unshakeable bravado. Though she hoped she wouldn’t need them. In another time and place she knew they could be the best of friends and she wanted time to discover that. Vivi suddenly pictured a possible life for all of them after the war when she would come over to visit the siblings in France. They’d all laugh and maybe they would go on a picnic into the beautiful French countryside. They would eat French cheese and drink good, fine red wine and tell tales of the time when they had all been spies.
When they arrived at the Gare du Nord, nothing could prepare Vivi for what it would feel like. The platform was heaving with German officers in their sharp-edge grey uniforms and shiny black jackboots as they barked out orders. Many of them were accompanied by German shepherd dogs gnashing their teeth and straining on thick metal chains that snarled and snapped at the passengers hurrying along the platform, a very successful intimidation technique. The people cowered, with eyes cast down, some apparently refugees judging by the amount of baggage they carried, seeking to escape the horror, but they all scurried along as the German officers kept them moving. As the squeal of the brakes slammed the train to a stop and circles of hot white steam rose up from the tracks and filtered through the open window, the smell of soot and engine oil was suffocating and Vivi coughed. Staring out to the platform, she noted that the look on every face she could see was of apprehension and fear and they all reflected back her own feelings. Vivi sat paralysed for a moment, not wanting to get off, and it took Terrier tugging on her arm to break the spell she was under. Raising to her feet her legs started to shake uncontrollably and all she could think was, what on earth had she been thinking of, believing that she could do this? Suddenly, it all felt so real and so very dangerous. In the little villages on the coast the Germans had been there, but on the whole, the atmosphere in the rural towns had been tense but casual. Here in Paris, it was extremely different. She was grateful for Terrier’s arm as he locked it in hers and hustled her off the train and along the platform. Once on the street he began his usual evasive walking course, taking them up and down streets and back alleys.
As they walked, she felt overwhelmed with the change to the city she had visited before the war. Remembering it as a lively town with a unique joie de vivre, now the streets were teeming with marching Nazis and angry-looking swastikas hung from every government building. And the fear on the street was palpable. Vivi repeated over and over to herself the address of the safe house she’d been given before she had left Britain as a way to calm her mind and quell the fear that was rising up from her stomach and tasting bitter in her mouth. Terrier had reminded her of it on the train, instructing her if there were any complications, anything at all, to go to the safe house.
‘Do you understand? Fifty-three Boulogne Street. Ask for Madame Mazella; she will provide a room. You tell her that Terrier sent you. Do you follow me? Is that clear?’
Vivi had nodded, hoping that she would never need a safe house.
As they finally reached their destination he tapped on the door of the home she was to live at and Vivi was grateful to get away from the desperate atmosphere on the streets of Paris. The house was in Boulogne-Billancourt on the outskirts of the city – a simple, unpretentious place – and though she hadn’t been completely sure of what to expect, this nondescript building hadn’t been it.
The door opened. An older woman played her part.
‘Ah, I’m overjoyed to see you. What a dear you are, to bring our sweet cousin Claudette all the way. Thank you so much. We have been anticipating her arrival.’
They headed inside, and the tiny woman with animated eyes and grey hair captured tidily in a tight bun shut the door behind them.
‘Are you sure you weren’t followed?’ she enquired in a hushed voice.
He shook his head. ‘No one ever follows me,’ he responded playfully as he kissed her warmly on both cheeks.
She then glared at Vivi, and Vivi could tell she wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Then making up her mind the woman shook her head. ‘You are too pretty. They need to send us plain girls. She will attract every Nazi in this town.’
Vivi didn’t know how to respond to that.
The Terrier laughed. ‘Which is precisely why they won’t suspect anything. They will be expecting the plain girls, but with the good-looking ones, they’ll only be thinking about one thing,’ he quipped with her, playfully, tapping her cheeks and continuing, using his nickname for her, ‘Come on, Maman, you are not to fret so much. This war will be won soon, and young Claudette here will help you win it.’
They made their way into the house and Vivi shivered. It felt dark and gloomy compared to being outside. This was an old gentleman of a house with heavy brown mahogany-panelled walls and a high white ceiling. The room she was led into was dominated by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and large pieces of older furniture. Vivi noticed everything was meticulously clean and polished but there were no frills. A solid oak dining table was at the other end of the room with a large blue-and-yellow ceramic bowl in the centre, which Vivi surmised had probably contained fruit in peacetime. A smooth veneered sideboard with family photo atop anchored the other wall. Around the dark-stone fireplace comfortable chairs were placed for optimum warmth with threadbare covers over the armrests and backs of the chairs. More books were stacked in a pile by the side of one of the chairs and the smell of strong coffee and pipe tobacco lingered about the room.