The Sisters of St. Croix

by Diney Costeloe

  “The Germans came and searched the farm,” Étienne had said, “and then they dragged us up to the cottage. Virtually taken that apart they had, but we’d been back and cleared the loft, so there was no sign it had been used lately. They took us to their headquarters and that Major Thielen asked us some questions, whether we’d seen anyone near there, that kind of thing. We said we hadn’t seen anything, and eventually he let us go.”

  “You can thank God it was Major Thielen who asked the questions,” Gerard said. “Different matter if it had been Hoch!”

  “Have they been to you?” asked Étienne.

  “Not yet,” replied Gerard glumly. “But no doubt they will.”

  When he got home Gerard found German soldiers in the process of searching his farm and outbuildings. Marie was sitting on a chair in the kitchen, watched over by a young soldier holding a rifle. She leapt to her feet as Gerard came in and the young man shouted at her to sit down again.

  “It is my husband,” Marie explained. The soldier motioned with the rifle to the other chair at the table, and Gerard sat down.

  “How long have they been here?” Gerard asked softly.

  “Not talk!” shouted the soldier, waving his rifle at them. “Not talk!”

  The search of the farm revealed nothing, and with a warning that they should report any strangers they saw in the area, the soldiers departed to look elsewhere.

  “But they’ll be back,” sighed Gerard. “And next time they’ll be looking for Fernand. It won’t be long before they realise he’s gone missing.”

  As darkness fell, Adelaide was again crouched above the grating. She dropped the signal twigs through the grille and it was raised at once from below.

  “He’s safe,” she said as Joseph Auclon’s head appeared. “Is Jacques ready?”

  “Yes, he’s ready,” replied Joseph with a sigh. He ducked down into the cellar and moments later lifted his tearful second son out of the hole. With the admonition, “Remember, do what Mademoiselle Antoinette tells you,” he lowered his head again and Adelaide was able to slide the grating into place. The little boy stood beside her, shaking, as she hid the entrance again. Then she took his hand and led him quickly away. As they hurried past the convent, a pale face looked down from a window. Intent upon reaching the shelter of the trees, Adelaide didn’t look up, didn’t see the eyes watching her from its shadows.

  “We must be very quiet, Jacques,” Adelaide whispered once they were hidden among the trees. She crouched down so her face was at his level and murmured to him. “Don’t be scared, Jacques. Just be a good boy and hold my hand.”

  “I want Maman,” wailed the child, his voice reedy and thin, but oh so loud in the darkness.

  Adelaide put her arms round him and hugged him tightly. “I know you do, chéri, and you’ll see her very soon, I promise. But now you have to come with me so we can go and find Julien.” She reached into her pocket and found a small piece of the chocolate she had saved for him. “Here, try this.” She slipped the square into his mouth and at once his crying ceased as he tasted the sweetness. “Come on, now,” she whispered.

  They reached the farm without meeting anyone and it was with relief that Adelaide handed the little boy over to Marie who gave him hot food, something he hadn’t had for months, before they bathed him and put him to bed, where, like his twin the previous night, he fell asleep at once.

  In the morning Adelaide dressed him and did his hair. She taught him the “OK Olivier?” game, and although he still had a tendency to be tearful, she put him onto the back of the bicycle and set off. When they reached the station in Albert, they found there was a check being made on all papers. Adelaide bought their tickets and then waited well clear of the barrier in the hope that the checkpoint would be closed before she needed to go through. She was out of luck. The man in the ticket office had said that a train was due very soon, and she couldn’t risk missing it. Heaven only knew when there’d be another.

  She knelt down and spoke to Jacques. “We’re going onto the platform now, Olivier,” she said gently, and when the child didn’t react she paused. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Jacques,” he replied.

  “No, chéri, not today. Your name is Olivier, remember? Olivier.”

  “Olivier,” the child repeated obediently. Then he looked across at the gendarmes who were checking the papers. “I don’t like those men.”

  Adelaide felt her heart beat faster, but she soothed as calmly as she could. “They’re nice men. They won’t hurt you… but if they ask you your name what will you say?”

  “Jacques,” replied the boy, a note of surprise in his voice.

  Adelaide was at her wits’ end. They had to pass the barrier and the checkpoint, she could only hope they wouldn’t speak to Jacques at all. She gave him another piece of chocolate.

  She joined the queue and when at last her turn came she was faced with a bespectacled, elderly man who looked at her and addressed her gruffly. “Well, who have we got here?” He took her proffered papers and glanced at them.

  “Hold my hand, Olivier,” she said sharply, as she felt the little boy move behind her. “We don’t want you to get lost.”

  The man looked up, still holding their papers. “Where are you going, Mademoiselle?”

  “To Amiens, Monsieur,” Adelaide answered, and when he appeared to be waiting for more knew she must explain. “Olivier has to go to the hospital there.”

  “Why the hospital there? Why not the one here?” The man peered at her through his thick spectacles.

  “He has something wrong with his eyes,” she replied. “He has to see the eye specialist there.” She waited. The man still held their papers, but she could hear the train chuffing into the station behind her. When he didn’t hand them back she pressed him. “Please, Monsieur, we shall miss the train.”

  The man grunted and handed the papers back. “Go on,” he said, and removing his glasses rubbed his own red-rimmed eyes. “Get him to his eye doctor, or he’ll end up with eyes like mine.”

  Almost weak with relief, Adelaide dragged Jacques across the platform and bundled him into a carriage already full.

  “There’s no room for two,” someone grumbled, but Adelaide responded immediately. “That’s all right, Olivier can sit on my knee.”

  The journey to Amiens was uneventful. Adelaide sat crammed in between an old woman with a huge basket on her lap and a young thin man, whose elbow dug into her for much of the time. People got on and off at various stations, and by the time they reached Amiens, Adelaide had managed to secure a window seat and was able to amuse Jacques as she had Julien, pointing out things through the window. When the train pulled into the station, she clambered down with Jacques in her arms and moved towards the exit. There was no checkpoint there today and she was just breathing a sigh of relief that she was on the last step of her journey when a hand touched her arm. “Good morning, Mademoiselle. Here again?”

  Adelaide spun round to find herself facing the German captain she’d met the day before. She felt the colour drain from her face, but the captain was bending down to speak to Jacques. “Hello, young man. And how are you today?”

  Jacques simply stared at him, and the German went on. “Still too shy to talk, I see.” He turned his attention back to Adelaide, who was struggling to regain control of her features. “What did the doctor say yesterday?”

  “He… he...er… had a look and then he put some drops into Olivier’s eyes. We have to go back again today so that he can look again.”

  “I see, well let’s hope he can discover something this time, it’s a long way for you come each day.” He broke off, his attention diverted to someone or something behind Adelaide’s back. “Excuse me,” he murmured and strode off across the platform. Adelaide took Jacques by the hand and hurried him out of the station, only glancing back as they turned into the street. The captain was greeting another SS officer who had just got off the train. It was Colonel Hoch. He didn’t appear to have s
een Adelaide, would probably not have recognised her at this distance anyway, but it was all she could do not to gather Jacques up into her arms and make a run for it. The same sleek black car was outside the station, the same driver leaning against it. Adelaide, walking as unhurriedly as she could, turned down the first side street she came to, fighting the urge for a backward glance, a glance that might have revealed her face to Hoch as he emerged from the station.

  Once he was reunited with Julien, Jacques became a different child. He became animated, smiling and chatting in some sort of private language.

  Perhaps, thought Adelaide as she watched them, they miss each other more than they do their parents. The close bond of twins. She hoped they did for she was pretty sure that they weren’t going to see their parents for a very long time… if ever.

  “I’ll get them moved on to the convent in Paris as soon as I can,” Father Bernard said. “I have contacts who can do that for me.”

  “I’ve only the one set of papers,” Adelaide reminded him.

  “I know, but they’re a start and I can probably sort out another set, given time.”

  “And when the parents come? If they come.”

  “I’ll get them moved to a safe house,” said the priest. “We’ll try and get them there right away, but really nowhere’s safe for them these days.”

  Adelaide slipped away without saying goodbye to the boys. They were sitting up at the table, prattling away to each other and she left them to Madame Papritz.

  “Here’s something for them,” she said to Father Bernard, and handed over the last of the precious chocolate.

  21

  Adelaide approached the station with extreme caution. She could not afford to be seen either by the captain, without “Olivier”, or by Colonel Hoch. It was early evening and the station was busy with people going home from work. There were plenty of German uniforms among the crowds on the platform, and so she slipped into a ladies-only waiting room, out of sight. She prepared a story about how Olivier had been kept in the hospital in case she had the misfortune to meet the captain yet again, but in the event she didn’t need it. When the train finally steamed into the station, she hurried out, keeping among the crowds, and although she kept a sharp eye out for either of the German officers, she saw neither. She reached Albert in safety, despite a document check on the train, and collecting her bicycle pedalled slowly to St Croix. The nervous energy she had expended taking the two little boys to Amiens left her feeling exhausted, and it was all she could do to make it back to the farm.

  “Safe?” asked Marie.

  “Safe,” replied Adelaide. “For the moment.”

  That evening she went to meet Marcel as planned. When she tapped on the back door of the café, it was Madame Juliette who let her in.

  “He’s in the bar,” Madame Juliette said. “I’ll let him know you’re here.” She disappeared through the connecting door into the café. Moments later there was another tap on the back door and Marcel was there.

  “Safe?” he asked. And when Adelaide nodded, he gathered her into his arms. “Thank God. Thank God you’re safe.”

  For a moment Adelaide allowed herself to rest against him, feeling the strength of his arms around her, and then she pulled away and dropped into a chair.

  “The children are safe,” she said, “but we still have to get the parents away.”

  “Tell me how it went,” Marcel said, sitting down across the table from her. “Any problems?”

  Adelaide had longed to tell Marcel the details of the two journeys, to share the relief of having succeeded, but now she held back. It was safer for them all if he didn’t know exactly where the children had gone. He knew they’d been on a train, so she contented herself with telling him how she had had to share a compartment with an SS captain.

  “They’ve been searching the village,” she added. “Taken people in for questioning, but so far they haven’t kept anyone.” She looked across at him gravely. “They’ve been out to us, but they didn’t find the well. Surely they’ll be looking for Fernand by now. They must realise that he’s disappeared.”

  “I shouldn’t worry too much about him,” said Marcel reassuringly. “They may guess what’s happened to him, but I doubt if they’ll pursue it. They’ll soon recruit someone else to take his place.”

  Madame Juliette reappeared with a carafe of wine and two glasses, which she set on the table before she left them alone again. Marcel poured them a glass each, and then, tasting his, pulled a face.

  Adelaide laughed at his expression of disgust, and took a sip of hers. “It’s better than nothing!”

  “I’m not sure it is,” Marcel groaned.

  “I’ll go back to the convent tomorrow,” Adelaide told him, “and make the arrangements to get the parents away. Reverend Mother will be glad when they’ve gone. She wouldn’t give them up, of course, but she doesn’t want them there. After Sister Eloise was arrested, Hoch threatened the convent with reprisals if he finds them hiding anyone else.” Adelaide was silent for a moment, thoughtful. “Will you get a message to London? Tell them I think I’ve done all I can here and ask what they want me to do next. I don’t mind staying if there is something else they need me to do, but we shan’t be able to use the convent as a safe house as we’d hoped.”

  “I’ll get Bertrand to send that on his next transmission,” Marcel promised. “Now, tell me what you need me to do.”

  “I’m not sure yet,” replied Adelaide. “I have all the help I need while they are in the convent, it’s getting them to Albert so that they can catch the train that is the difficult bit. I know they could walk, but they’d almost certainly be picked up. We really need some sort of transport to get them out of the village.”

  Madame Juliette came in and they told her their problem.

  “You can bring them here,” she said. “If you can get them to me under cover of darkness, they can catch the weekly bus into Albert in the morning. No one will look twice at a nun and a priest on the bus.”

  “That’d be very dangerous,” Adelaide said dubiously.

  “It is better to be bold, as you were with the children,” Madame Juliette asserted. “You’re less suspicious if you’re moving about in the daylight, with nothing to hide.”

  “But hiding them here overnight?”

  Madame Juliette shrugged. “Who will look here?”

  “It’s probably the best we can do for them,” Marcel said, and Adelaide reluctantly agreed.

  On her way to meet Marcel, Adelaide had been to the convent. Entering by the courtyard gate she stopped by the grating, and while retying her shoe had pushed a note through the grille, telling the Auclons that their children were safe. She also warned them to wait for her signal on the inner door the following evening.

  Sister Marie-Marc was in the kitchen when Adelaide arrived at the back door, and was delighted to see her.

  “Are you coming back to work?” she asked. “Is your aunt better?”

  Adelaide smiled at this enthusiastic reception and said that she was. “That’s what I’ve come to say. I’ll be back tomorrow morning, but Sister,” Adelaide lowered her voice, “please could you tell Reverend Mother that I would like to speak to her when I get here.”

  Sister Marie-Marc nodded conspiratorially. “Yes, I will tell her.”

  Next morning Mother Marie-Pierre sent to the kitchen and summoned Adelaide to her study. When Adelaide entered the room in answer to the bell, Mother Marie-Pierre had one simple question. “Have they gone?”

  “The children, yes. The parents, tonight if you’ll help me.”

  “What do you want me to do?” asked Reverend Mother.

  Adelaide outlined her plan. “When the sisters are all in bed, I will come to the back door and you must let me in. We’ll go down to the cellar and move the furniture away from the door so that the Auclons can come out that way. I will bring the cassock that Father Bernard has given me, and you said you could provide a nun’s habit for Madame.”

 
Mother Marie-Pierre nodded. “Yes, I can do that. Then what?”

  “Then we get them dressed and I take them out of the back door and they’re gone.” Adelaide smiled across at her. “Then you can relax, the convent will be safe.”

  “Where are you going to take them in the middle of the night? How will they get to Amiens?” asked her aunt.

  “Better you don’t know. We’ll try and get the habit back to you later.”

  “I’ve still got these.” Mother Marie-Pierre opened the door of her desk and produced some documents. “These are Sister Marie-Joseph’s papers. Of course she is much younger than Madame Auclon, but up until now the soldiers have only looked at the habit and not the person inside it.”

  Their plans made as far as they were able, Adelaide returned to the kitchen and finished her morning’s work. Sister Marie-Marc looked at her speculatively, but Adelaide merely smiled at her and went down to fetch the coal. They had agreed they would need someone else to help, and the obvious choice was Sister Marie-Marc.

  “I’ll speak to her nearer the time,” promised Mother Marie-Pierre. “She can leave the back gate unlocked for you, and keep watch while we get them changed and ready to go.”

  Adelaide knocked gently on the back door of the convent that night and it was immediately opened by an excited-looking Sister Marie-Marc, who beckoned her in and then closed the door behind her. The kitchen was in darkness, except for a crack of light edging the cellar door.

  “I’ll go back to keep watch,” the nun whispered. “Mother’s already down in the cellar.”

  Adelaide nodded and went down the cellar steps. Below she found Mother Marie-Pierre carefully removing the furniture from the outside of the hidden door. She greeted Adelaide with a tired smile and a kiss on the cheek, the first sign of affection she had shown since she learnt that Adelaide was using the convent cellars for her own purposes. Together they shifted the larger pieces of furniture and then Adelaide tapped the agreed code on the door. They heard the bolt being drawn back and then the door eased open to reveal the two scarecrows that were Joseph and Janine Auclon.