But just a few days earlier, Frankie received word. “The girls’ dispositions have been changed, too. From ‘missing, presumed dead’ to ‘killed in action.’” Three words that could mean so much. “Josie is going to be nominated for the George Cross.”
“And Eleanor?” he asked. Grace shook her head. She would remain a footnote in history, unknown but to a few. But of course that was what she had always wanted.
So much of the truth had died with Eleanor and would never be known. Of course, there was much they would never know. Who knew among the British? Was it MI6 that had made the calculated decision to sacrifice the agents or had SOE betrayed its very own?
But it was a reckoning, a start.
“Two champagnes, please,” Mark said to the waiter when they were seated in Stiles’ Tavern, a simple, unpretentious spot not far from Grand Central. “We have to celebrate.”
“Are you back in New York for a case?” she asked after their drinks had come. She lifted her glass.
“Not exactly. I’ve been offered a position with the War Crimes Tribunal. Not Nuremberg, but one of the satellites.”
“Oh, Mark, that’s wonderful!”
“I should thank you. Working with you on finding out the truth about Eleanor and the girls made me realize how much I missed that sort of work. I decided to try again.”
Grace raised her glass. “To your new position,” she offered.
“To second chances,” he said, a deeper note to his words. They clinked glasses. “I wanted to see you.”
To see her, Grace realized, before he left. Her hand hovered in midair. He was going back to Europe for good. She took a sip, the bubbles tickling her nose. She had no right to mind. They’d shared a few fleeting moments together and she couldn’t expect more. Still, she had gotten used to the idea of him, and the thought of him leaving made her sadder than she expected.
“I was wondering...” He faltered. “I was wondering if you would like to come with me.”
“I’m sorry?” She thought she had heard him wrong. To go to Washington was one thing, but to upend her life and move to Europe...with him.
“I could arrange a position with the tribunal for you. With your investigative skills, you’d be a real asset.” She considered it for a moment.
“You could even follow up more on SOE and the other girls.” He held the chance to continue Eleanor’s journey out in front of her like a promise. Part of her wanted to take it, to follow him to Europe, to pursue the work she had started. But it would still just be running.
“Gracie, there’s something special between you and me.” Her breath caught. He was acknowledging aloud what they both felt, but had not dared to admit to one another until now. “I’ve felt it since the moment I ran into you a few weeks ago. Don’t you?”
“Yes.” She felt it, too, and couldn’t have denied it, even if she wanted to.
“Life is too short to let something like this pass us by,” he pressed. “Why not take a chance on that?”
He was offering her not just a job, but a life together. The idea of picking up and moving to Europe with Mark was outlandish, even crazy. Yet a not-small part of her wanted to say yes. She had finished with the story of Eleanor and the girls. There was really nothing holding her back.
Except that it was time to write her own story now. “Mark, I’m honored, and there’s nothing I want to do more.” His face rose with hope and she cringed, bracing herself for what she had to say next. “But there are things I have to take care of here.” The office was teeming with more clients every day. And Frankie, caught up in getting Sammy adjusted to school, needed her more than ever. “I’m not saying no, just not right now. Maybe in a few months when things are more settled.”
But the future, they both knew, was promised to no one. He pushed back from the table, accepting.
“One last thing,” she said, when they walked outside of the bar. “I’d like to pay for Eleanor’s funeral. That is, if it’s still possible.” She deserved a real gravesite with her name for someone to remember—the girls had been denied that. Grace took the check from Tom’s attorney out of her purse and signed it over to him.
He looked at it and whistled low. “That would be one hell of a funeral.”
“If you could send the rest to Marie to use to care for her daughter, I’d be grateful.” Though Marie had been grateful for all Grace had done to help set the record straight for Eleanor and the girls, there had been a part of her, Grace could see, that wanted to be free of the past. Grace had decided not to bother her further and let her get on with her life.
“I’ll see that it’s done.”
“Goodbye, Grace,” he said, his hazel eyes holding hers. He kissed her once, sweetly, and just long enough.
She fought the urge to lean in once more, knowing if she didn’t leave him now, she might never go. “Good luck, Mark.”
She crossed the avenue toward Grand Central, unencumbered and unafraid, and started through the doors of the station, headed for the life that awaited her.
* * *
Author’s Note
A few years ago, I was researching topics for my next book when I discovered the amazing true story of Vera Atkins and the women who had served as agents for Special Operations Executive (SOE) under her leadership in Britain during World War II. I was immediately captivated by the heroic endeavors of these brave women, who went unheralded for many years after the war. I was struck, too, by the fact that many of the women never came home.
As an author of historical fiction, I must constantly navigate the delicate balance between the needs of the story and the obligation of historical integrity. While some of the characters and events in The Lost Girls of Paris are based on fact, the novel is first and foremost a work of fiction. There was no way I could adequately capture the heroics of the many women who served at SOE, and so I have created composites in Marie and the other female agents in the book inspired by them. Eleanor Trigg, Colonel Winslow and all other characters in my book are fictitious. I have taken great liberties with the ways the women trained and deployed. The places in which they operate and the missions they undertake were created for purposes of the story. And without saying too much and spoiling it for those who read the Author’s Note first, the ultimate explanation as to what happened to the girls, while inspired by the many articulated theories, is also a product of fiction.
For those who are interested in reading more about the real women of SOE, I recommend A Life in Secrets: Vera Atkins and the Missing Agents of World War Two by Sarah Helm and Spymistress: The True Story of the Greatest Female Secret Agent of World War Two by William Stevenson.