Her lips trembled. “We met during our last year in lycée. I lost my parents in an automobile accident and moved in with my grandparents. It was difficult to be the new girl in school, and Jules was nice to me. We studied together as friends and attended the same university. By the second year of college, we had fallen in love.”
“Such a beautiful story.” Madame Vidal sighed and pressed her hand over her heart. “Friendship is an important foundation of a successful marriage.”
Monsieur Vidal cocked his head. “Yet, it’s been a while since your finished university, isn’t it? Why did you wait?”
A chill swept over Gerard. Was the man’s question one of innocence, or was he probing their story for inconsistences? “We didn’t plan to. When the occupation came, I had just graduated. The morning we were to wed, the Germans came through my neighborhood and rounded up all males over the age of twelve. I was terrified I’d be shipped to Germany, but for some reason my group remained in France.”
Emily leaned forward. “I was beside myself with worry. I arrived at the town hall for the marriage, and Jules didn’t show up. Then I overheard some of the employees talking about the men who were taken, and I knew what happened. Finally, after three months, the workers were allowed to contact their loved ones. It was another three months before I was able to find housing close to the plant so we could see each other on his day off.”
“You poor dears. How awful.” Madame Vidal entwined her arm with her husband's.
“The Vichy government has been slow in granting marriage licenses.” Gerard rubbed his forehead. “We applied months ago, and the authorization just came through.”
“How on earth did you get travel visas?” Monsieur Vidal narrowed his eyes. “Those are equally difficult to obtain.”
Gerard shrugged and explained the Standartenführer’s attendance at their ceremony. “It was fortuitous that he arrived. Otherwise, it would be back to the factory for me.”
“Or providential. Sometimes God works in mysterious ways. Isn’t that how the saying goes.”
“Oui. My wife said the very same thing when the incident occurred. We’re not sure why He chose to bless us in this manner, but we’re grateful. But enough of our story. You are traveling to see your daughter. How has your journey been?” Would they give him the information he needed to continue their escape?
“Convoluted and arduous.” Monsieur Vidal frowned. “As you can imagine, the SS are everywhere. They board trains indiscriminately and conduct searches of people as well as luggage. Heavy handed, the officers take what they want and allow their underlings to harass and terrorize the populace. Disgraceful.”
His wife nodded. “I have been handled on more than one occasion, and poor Clement could do nothing. If he intervened, they might have arrested him…or worse. Our occupiers are barbarians and seem to take pleasure in boorish behavior.”
“Does this occur at every stop?” Gerard’s heart pounded. Should he and Emily jump off the train before the next station?
“Very nearly, especially as we approached the city.” He pulled his wife closer. “They are why we are sharing your compartment. The train is full, and there are several SS officers who boarded at the last stop and need somewhere to sit. The officer in charge unceremoniously threw us out of our berth. He looked sophisticated enough with his tall stature, blond hair, and clean-cut appearance, but no manners at all, uncivilized really.”
Gerard's grip on Emily’s hands tightened. Had their pursuer caught up with them?
Chapter Twenty
The porter appeared at the window then knocked on the door. Emily gestured for him to enter.
He dipped his head. “Dinner is now available in the dining car should you wish to eat.”
With unexpected spryness, the elderly couple scrambled to their feet. Madame Vidal clung to her husband’s arm. “Excellent. Do you know what they’re serving, young man?”
An apologetic smile on his face, he shook his head. “Non, but unfortunately whatever it is will not be haute cuisine.”
“No matter.” Madame Vidal smoothed her skirt. “As long as the food is edible, and with Germans on the train, it just may be.” She turned to Emily. “Will you join us?”
“We—”
“Perhaps, shortly.” Gerard interrupted Emily, and she glanced at his stony profile.
“À bientôt. See you soon.” The couple exited the compartment, the lingering scent of the woman’s floral perfume still in the air.
Emily flopped against the padded bench. “I thought they would never leave. Do you think they bought our story?”
“Hard to tell. Seems like it.” He frowned. “I think we should consider getting off the train before we pull into the next station. Could be dicey. We’d have to leap at just the right moment, when we’ve slowed on the approach, but not so late as to be seen by the brakeman.” His eyes darkened and seemed to caress her face. “You could get hurt. I wouldn’t want that.”
She blinked. Oh, that he cared what happened to her like a husband would for his wife. No, she was imagining things. He was simply being a good senior agent. “Worse than parachuting from a plane?”
He chuckled. “Probably not. And I think you’re quite capable of the jump, but with every mission we need to weigh the risks.” He winked. “Besides, I don’t want to have to cart you across the country if you break a leg.”
Her insides flipped, and she swatted his arm. “I don’t want to have to carry you. We’ve got too far to go.”
His face lit up as his chuckle turned into a full-fledged guffaw. “As much as I’d enjoy that, let’s assume neither of us gets injured.”
Despite the danger, his jaw had lost its tenseness, and his eyes sparkled. The banter seemed to have taken the edge off his stress. He ribbed her and treated her with respect, as if she were an intelligent colleague. He also seemed to go out of his way to protect her without being overbearing or misogynistic. When was the last time someone in her life had considered her an equal?
Not at work, and certainly not at home. She gazed out the window. Did he feel the electricity that periodically crackled between them?
He cleared his throat. “All kidding aside, I think we need to get off the train and return to the original plan of hiking toward the border, with or without the Resistance. We no longer have the radio, and our identities seem to have been compromised. We’re pushing our luck by traveling in public.”
“I agree. The thirty minutes with that couple was exhausting. I’m still not sure they’re as unassuming as we’re supposed to believe, and the fewer times I have to pretend to be someone I’m not, the better. Do you think we’ll be able to find a cell to help us?”
“It will take some doing, but I believe it’s possible. We can start with churches. From what I’ve seen, many of the country’s clergy do not agree with the Nazis' tactics or with the Vichy government. That doesn’t mean they’re in the Resistance, but they may know things or have contacts.”