They didn’t even question his story or ask about Vivi. Instead they lent him the only car in the village to drive to Morlaix, where they would be able to get a train. As they set off in the car they both sighed with relief. Because of Marcus’s injuries, Vivi had to drive; fortunately she had learned that as part of her training. As she gripped the steering wheel and wove the car down the country roads, Marcus reached forward and squeezed her hand.
‘You are amazing.’ He smiled at her. ‘Not long now.’
Back at the train station again, Vivi bought tickets for Paris. In his uniform, Marcus was very much the Nazi, and she had to keep reminding herself that he really was working undercover for the British. He was so good at the part he played. Even the way he spoke to her, in his abrupt German, sounding every bit in control. As they were waiting to board the train, someone caught her eye.
She turned. Someone was watching her intently, and she sucked in breath when she realised who it was. Hunched in the shadows was Terrier, leaning on a post, smoking a cigarette on the platform, obviously waiting for another operative. Making eye contact with Vivi, he walked towards her.
‘Look who flew back. No one told me you were coming,’ he said, obviously glad to see her.
‘I would stop and talk, but I have things I have to do,’ she blurted out, aware of the flush that was creeping across her cheeks.
Suddenly, Vonstein was beside her and Terrier stepped back in shock. She knew she had to do what she had to do, even though this would be hard.
‘I’m leaving for Paris. I am now with the Nazi Party,’ she stated harshly.
The shock on Terrier’s face was visible and he backed off, not waiting to hear any more, blending into the crowd as he was so good at doing. But Vivi sensed he was still staring at her from somewhere inconspicuous on the platform. As she boarded the train and made her way into the carriage, it broke her heart to sit there looking out for him, to know that all of these people may have thought so poorly of her. But Vivi reminded herself that it was for the greater good. If her faith in Marcus was right, it would be a matter of weeks, and then once this mission was finished, she could come back, and she and Terrier and Anne-Marie could laugh about it, and she could explain how she’d been undercover. But right now the pain in people’s faces as she appeared to have deceived them was a lot harder than she’d anticipated.
Once they were in the carriage, and confirmed they were alone, they slid the door shut, and the train moved away. Vivi felt the weight of what she was doing. Why did she constantly jump into things without thinking them through? She looked at Marcus. What if he really was a Nazi? She hadn’t thought about that for some time, but suddenly it struck her once more. He could be a double agent. He could say all these things just so he could get back into Paris. Marcus looked down at her then with great compassion.
‘You’re doing really well, Vivi,’ he whispered to her in English. ‘I know this is hard for you.’ There was such a gentleness in his tone and such care for her. He took her hand then and kissed it, gently. ‘Thank you, brave warrior. I am so grateful to you, and so will Mr Churchill be when I tell him. You have trusted me and now I think you deserve the same. You know already I have to go back undercover as a Nazi. But the reason the timing is imperative is because the Allies have a large planned offensive coming up and my job is to thwart Hitler’s efforts to get accurate information. I have been careful to progress my career to a place where I can do this. It is dangerous work and if I am found out, I will be executed, but if I don’t do it thousands of people could die. This war has to end and Hitler is a madman who must be stopped. I just hope I can help speed it up.’
She nodded, understanding the gravity of what he had to do.
When guards came on the train to check her papers this time, it was very different being with Marcus. When one emboldened inspector asked to see her papers, Marcus reprimanded him so harshly for demanding something from his assistant that the poor man couldn’t apologise enough. Though it was clear getting false papers for her had to be a priority, Vivi actually felt sorry for the guard, knowing the authorities on and off the train weren’t the Gestapo, just local law-enforcement officers, strong-armed into working for the Germans, and people who cared little for who was who.
As the train moved on through France towards Paris, Marcus told her about his childhood, and stories of him and Marcel. She saw the sadness behind his eyes, but also the relief to be doing this for them. He continued to tell her about his life as they wove through the countryside, only becoming stiff and Nazi-like whenever somebody walked down the corridor and looked in.
They made a plan. If she was to remain, she would become his secretary. That way he could keep her safe. ‘As soon as we get to Paris,’ he told her, ‘I will get in touch with a contact I can rely on to get you false papers.’
On arriving at the station, Marcus took her straight to his apartment. Once he unlocked the door and they walked in, he sank into a chair, obviously exhausted, not only from being in a great deal of pain from his wounds, but also from the pretence they had been keeping up. Vivi quickly took care of him, changing his bandages and getting him into bed.
It was only at this point that Vivi broke down. All the stress and pressure and the lying overcoming her, welling up inside her, and she started to sob, letting go of all the fear and regret she’d held so tightly inside.
‘Why don’t you lie down for a while?’ he suggested with deep concern in his tone as he pulled back the blankets. ‘Get an hour’s sleep. We have a lot ahead of us. You’ll need all your strength.’
Taking her hand, he pulled her towards him and kissed her gently on the lips. The exhilaration of that feeling startled her, and for the first time, she felt aware that she was alone with this man in his apartment, in his bedroom. Even with the overwhelming surge of regret and emotion, it was exciting as he pulled her into bed next to him and enfolded her in his arms.
Nestled safely against him, she could hardly keep her eyes open but as she drifted off to sleep all she could see were the faces of the people that had worked with her in Paris, all coming back like ghosts.
29
Present day
The day after their visit to Alex’s family’s apartment, they visited La Musée de la Libération de Paris, and Sophie was heartbroken to see so many photographs of the faces of people who had sacrificed their lives during World War Two, many of them young, some only surviving a few weeks working undercover for the French Resistance because it was so dangerous. Sophie kept hoping she would see Vivienne’s name there somewhere, maybe under an obscure plaque, somehow hidden, undiscovered, identifying her as one of the war heroes, or perhaps giving clues to the message she still hadn’t decoded. But Vivienne wasn’t there. They walked around the exhibition listening to the audio of extraordinary stories. She was starting to build up a good idea of what Vivienne had done for France and was amazed to find out that the wireless operators, the kind Vivienne had been, only had a life expectancy of six weeks.
There was a little about the Germans too, information about the occupation. Sophie enquired about where to go if she wanted to research the war records of a German commanding officer who had been there during World War Two. The docent gave her more references to check on the internet, assuring her that the Germans had kept meticulous records. ‘We don’t keep that kind of information here. We are celebrating what the French did during the war in the Resistance,’ he informed her.