by Lily Baxter
Elsie stood up and stretched. ‘It’s been busy. The Germans seem to be throwing everything they’ve got at our boys. I hope to God it ends soon.’
Marianne hesitated in the doorway, a worried frown creasing her brow. ‘Are we still friends?’
‘Of course, but you know what you have to do. You have to put an end to this business with Dieter.’ Elsie brushed past her. ‘I’m going downstairs to get something to drink. D’you want anything?’
Marianne shook her head. ‘I’ll think about what you said, but I’m not making any promises. I do like him a lot. He makes me feel special.’
Elsie said nothing. She would give Marianne until morning to decide whether or not to end her involvement with the German, and if all else failed she might have to seek Valentine’s help. She hated the thought of revealing Marianne’s ill-judged affair, but all their lives were at stake. She was halfway down the second flight of stairs when she heard footsteps coming towards her. Someone was in a hurry. She reached the landing at the same time as Valentine. ‘What’s the matter?’ Elsie asked anxiously.
‘We’ve got a seriously injured man and I need someone level-headed to assist me. I’m afraid that excludes Anouk.’ Valentine brushed a stray lock of hair back from her forehead. ‘I know it’s your rest period, but …’
‘You don’t have to ask. Of course I’ll do anything I can.’
‘Hendrick is with him.’ Valentine turned on her heel and retraced her steps with Elsie following close behind.
In the kitchen Hendrick was standing over a soldier who was stretched out on the table as if he were in an operating theatre. The stench of blood and suppuration filled the room, and even by candlelight Elsie could see that the man was barely breathing. Hendrick looked up and his expression was grim. ‘I’m surprised he made it this far. He’s in a bad way.’
‘Stoke the fire, Hendrick,’ Valentine said briskly. ‘We’ll need plenty of hot water.’ She turned to Elsie. ‘Go into the parlour and fetch my sewing box. I want a darning needle and thread and scissors. All of which you must sterilise in carbolic. It’s fortunate that I persuaded the doctor to give me a fresh supply.’ She started to unbutton the soldier’s mud-encrusted tunic.
Looking for something in almost complete darkness was not easy but eventually Elsie found the polished rosewood box and took it to the kitchen. Hendrick and Valentine had managed to peel off the man’s clothing, which now lay on the floor in a muddy heap. A clean towel covered his legs, one of which was roughly splinted, but the sight of the gaping hole just below his left shoulder made Elsie want to retch. If the smell was anything to go by infection had already set in and his condition was critical. ‘Sterilise the needle, thread and scissors,’ Valentine said calmly. ‘Hendrick, tear up my last tablecloth. I don’t know what we’ll do when this one is gone, but perhaps some kind soul in the village will sacrifice some of their linen.’ She started to clean the flesh surrounding the wound, working swiftly and methodically.
Elsie’s hand was shaking as she poured carbolic into a dish. ‘What else do you want me to do?’
‘I’ve a small amount of chloroform left. I keep it for the most serious cases and this is one of them. I’m going to have to probe the wound to make sure there are no fragments of the shell left in it before I begin suturing. If he starts to come round I want you to pour a little of the chloroform onto a pad and hold it over his face. I’ll tell you when to do it and when to stop. We don’t want to send him to meet his maker before his time.’
Hendrick placed a pile of clean linen on the table. ‘Is that enough?’
‘For the moment.’ Valentine probed the man’s flesh, uttering a cry of triumph as she retrieved a sliver of metal. She glanced at Elsie. ‘Don’t you dare faint, my girl.’
‘I’m all right. He doesn’t seem to need anaesthesia, so is there anything else I can do?’
‘Thread the needle and pass it to me. I’m going to swab the wound with carbolic and sew him up.’
‘Have you done this before?’ Elsie asked anxiously.
Valentine gave a short bark of a laugh. ‘I’ve trussed many a capon and turkey. Flesh is flesh whether it’s animal or human.’ She turned to Hendrick. ‘I’ll need the hot water to wash him when I’ve finished my bit of expert darning.’
‘Yes, madame.’ Hendrick nodded and grinned. ‘He’s a lucky fellow.’
‘Stand by his head, Lotte,’ Valentine ordered. ‘This will hurt and might bring him round before I’m done. Be ready with the chloroform. He might need it after all.’
Elsie moved into position. She watched in admiration as Valentine closed the jagged edges of torn flesh with neat sutures. ‘Where did you learn to do that? I’m sure no one uses such expertise to truss poultry.’
Hendrick looked up. ‘Madame’s father was a doctor,’ he said proudly. ‘She is as good as, or maybe better than the one we have now.’
‘I did two years in medical school.’ Valentine snipped the thread. ‘Then I met the man I was to marry and gave up my career to be his wife.’ She met Elsie’s questioning gaze with a smile. ‘I’ve never regretted my decision. I was lucky to marry such a wonderful man.’ She tossed the needle into the antiseptic. ‘Now I will clean him up before Hendrick takes him up to the attic.’
Elsie abandoned the chloroform with a sigh of relief. She had not wanted to risk killing the soldier with an overdose of anaesthetic. ‘I can help with that.’
Valentine wrung a flannel out in warm water and tossed it to her. ‘Wash his face, and check his head for lice.’
Elsie took a deep breath. Searching men’s hair for parasites was one of the things she hated most when helping care for the injured soldiers, but it had to be done. After a cursory examination she smiled. ‘He’s clean,’ she said, breathing a sigh of relief. The man’s face was in deep shadow and he had several days’ worth of stubble covering the lower part. ‘He needs a shave,’ she said, dipping a flannel in warm water and wringing it out. She was about to start washing the dirt off his face when he opened his eyes. He stared at her dazedly. ‘Elsie? Is it really you?’
‘Guy?’ She leaned closer. ‘Is it really you?’
Valentine stopped what she was doing to stare at Elsie. ‘Do you know this man?’
A gurgle of hysterical laughter escaped Elsie’s lips. ‘It’s my friend Guy. We knew each other in London before the war.’
‘Where am I?’ Guy whispered. ‘Am I dreaming?’
‘You’re safe.’ Elsie held his hand to her cheek. ‘It’s a miracle that brought you to us. I can hardly believe it.’
‘Don’t tire him,’ Valentine said sharply. ‘He needs to rest.’
‘I’ll look after you, Guy,’ Elsie said softly. ‘You’re safe now.’
His eyelids fluttered and closed. Elsie experienced a moment of panic, thinking that he had slipped away, but the gentle rise and fall of his chest proved that he was still clinging to life. It was only when she felt the tears rolling down her cheeks that she realised she was crying.
Valentine drew her aside. ‘I want you to go to the attic room and make up the bed. Hendrick will bring the young man up when we’ve finished here.’ She lowered her voice. ‘You do realise that this is a dangerous situation, don’t you?’
Elsie sniffed and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. ‘No more so than all the rest, surely?’
‘You’re obviously involved in some way with this man, and he knows your true identity. Such knowledge if it got into the wrong hands would cause irreparable damage.’
Elsie glanced anxiously at Guy, but he had lapsed into unconsciousness. ‘He would never betray me.’
‘We can’t take that risk. He will have to be moved on and you must go with him.’
‘But we’re doing good work. You won’t be able to manage without us.’
‘You and Anouk have done a wonderful job, but now you’ve both become a danger to us all.’
‘You know about the German officer?’
‘It is my house. I h
ave to know everything that goes on within its walls. I was going to speak to her about it in the morning.’
‘Are you sending us away?’
‘Yes, but you will have to travel separately. I haven’t made a plan as yet, but I will.’
Next morning Valentine insisted that Marianne and Elsie came down to breakfast together. She sat at the head of the table, pouring coffee as if it were an ordinary day. She waited until they were seated. ‘Lotte knows why I wanted to see you together,’ she said calmly. ‘Has she said anything to you, Anouk?’
‘Nothing.’ Marianne shot a dagger’s glance at Elsie, who shook her head.
‘I knew about your affair,’ Valentine added hastily. ‘Lotte didn’t tell me, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
Marianne shrugged her shoulders. ‘Nothing you say will make any difference, and nothing will stop me seeing Dieter.’
‘And you must continue to meet him,’ Valentine said smoothly. She raised her hand as Elsie was about to protest. ‘Things have changed overnight. The young soldier in our care is known to both of you and that will endanger all La Dame Blanche agents on the escape route. Lotte and the soldier will be leaving tonight, but you, Anouk, will have to remain here until I think it is safe to move you on.’
‘That suits me,’ Marianne said smugly.
‘This is only a brief reprieve.’ Valentine fixed her with a stern stare. ‘If you disappear suddenly it will make the German suspicious. You will continue your sordid little liaison until I tell you to bring it to an end.’
Elsie stared at her in surprise. ‘Isn’t that putting Anouk in a dangerous position? What if Dieter reports her to the authorities?’
‘He’s hardly likely to do that. The German army disapproves of fraternisation as much as we do. His whole career would be in jeopardy.’
‘And what if I refuse to go?’ Marianne demanded angrily. ‘You’re playing with my life as well as his.’
Valentine fixed her with a hard stare. ‘Perhaps you would rather face the firing squad?’
Elsie sent a warning look to Marianne. ‘Don’t be a fool. You know that there’s no future in such a relationship. How would you feel if they sent him to the front and he was killed? It would be your fault.’
‘It won’t happen that way. We’ve been careful not to attract attention.’ Marianne raised her cup to her lips and drank thirstily. She stood up. ‘Say what you like, Aunt Valentine, I won’t stop seeing him. I’m going to bed.’ She stormed out of the room.
Elsie half rose from her seat but Valentine motioned her to sit. ‘Let her go. She’s got to realise that she can’t always have her own way.’
‘She thinks she’s in love with him,’ Elsie said earnestly. ‘Let me talk to her and make her see sense, and then we can move on together. I don’t want to leave her like this.’
‘Hmm.’ Valentine frowned. ‘I know very little of your past, but it won’t hurt her to be on her own for once. She might not be so foolhardy without you there to pick up the pieces.’
Elsie was genuinely shocked. ‘No, I can assure you that she’s done a lot for me.’
‘And she’s traded on it ever since,’ Valentine said shrewdly. ‘It’s none of my business, but I’d say that time spent apart will do you no harm. From what I’ve seen of you two, it’s Anouk who is the dependent one. She relies on you more than you know.’ She folded her table napkin and laid it neatly on the table. ‘Anyway, you and your soldier friend will be leaving tonight. I need you to take the first four-hour watch, and then you must get some rest.’
‘I don’t think Anouk will be able to cope with a double shift.’
‘I don’t expect her to. I’ve done it before and I’ll continue until Louise Tandel finds me suitable replacements.’
‘And then you will send Anouk to safety?’
‘I will, and the sooner the better, but my first concern is to get you away. Now enjoy your breakfast, such as it is.’ Valentine was silent for a moment, staring into her coffee cup. ‘There is one thing you can do for me, if you will.’
Elsie swallowed a mouthful of the coarse rye bread which she had smeared with a little apricot jam. ‘Anything.’
‘My sons, Jens and Yannick, are in England somewhere. I’d be grateful if you could give them a message from me, should you be able to trace them.’
‘That shouldn’t be too difficult. I used to work with the Belgian refugees in London.’
‘Just tell them that I am well and thinking of them constantly, and that I can’t wait to see them again. God willing, the war will soon be over.’
‘If I ever get home safely it’s the first thing I’ll do. I promise.’
Chapter Fifteen
IT WAS DARK and bone-chillingly cold. The moon and stars were obscured by a thick blanket of clouds. Guy had been dosed with one of Valentine’s herbal concoctions and was heavily sedated, but somehow Hendrick managed to carry him to the riverbank where a fishing boat was waiting to take them on the start of their journey. Elsie followed, praying silently that no one would see them making their escape. They were breaking the curfew, but Hendrick had made this trek many times and knew all the short cuts. When they reached the jetty he carried Guy onto a boat, aided by the skipper and his mate. Hendrick stepped ashore, proffering his hand to Elsie. She squeezed his fingers and stood on tiptoe to kiss his whiskery cheek. He mumbled something unintelligible as he helped her to board the vessel. She whispered her thanks and he shambled off, his ungainly outline blurring until he was just a shadow and then he was gone. Her last link with Marianne and Valentine and the Merchant’s House had vanished into the night.
She turned to see the skipper standing at her side. He pointed to where the mate was making Guy as comfortable as possible on a pile of sacks, and she made her way across the deck to sit beside him. The smell of fish was overpowering, but Guy was in a drug-induced stupor, and unlikely to complain. She cushioned his head on her lap and prepared herself for a long night as the boat glided away from the shore. The limp sails caught a sudden gust of wind, filled and billowed and the vessel scudded along as silently as a swan on a glassy lake. The landing stage and the village houses dissolved into the darkness, and Elsie breathed a sigh of relief. For the moment at least they were safe. She leaned back against the gunwales, closing her eyes.
She was awakened by a rough hand clamped over her mouth and a gruff voice close to her ear. ‘Don’t make a sound.’
She opened her eyes, acknowledging the skipper’s order with a nod of her head.
He took his hand away. ‘German checkpoint,’ he whispered. ‘Keep quiet and don’t move.’ He reached for a sheet of tarpaulin and spread it over them.
Elsie dared not move a muscle. She curled up beside Guy, wrapping her arms around him. It was dark and stuffy and the fishy smell made her feel sick, but the smallest sound might give them away. She froze, hardly daring to breathe. She could feel the boat tacking and slowing down until the wooden hull ground against what she assumed must be a landing stage. She could hear a voice shouting orders in German, and the skipper’s monosyllabic responses. There was a sudden lull and then, to her immense relief, the boat rocked gently into motion. She lay very still, but Guy was stirring and she whispered words of comfort in his ear, hoping that they would register in his fevered brain. There was no way of knowing what was going on above them or how long they must remain concealed. She was hot and thirsty, and it seemed as though they had been forgotten when suddenly the tarpaulin was lifted. The winter sunlight was cold and white, and the fresh air had a bite that made her cheeks tingle. She struggled to a sitting position.
‘We got away with it,’ the skipper said, grinning. ‘If they had decided to search the boat it would have been a different matter, but they must have been eager to change shifts and were careless.’
‘Thank God for that,’ Elsie said, sighing with relief. ‘Thank you, captain. We owe our lives to you and your crew.’
He shrugged his shoulders, and glanced down at Guy who
was mumbling incoherently. ‘How is he?’
‘He’s feverish, and the sedative is wearing off. He needs proper medical attention.’
‘We’re only taking you as far as Ghent, where you’ll be transferred to a barge. It will be more comfortable for you, but until then you must keep your head down. You must not be seen.’
‘I understand.’
He nodded. ‘We’ll put ashore soon.’
‘Why? Won’t it add unnecessary time to our journey?’
‘We all have to eat and you need to keep your strength up. You have a long way to go and it’s better to travel on a full stomach.’
Elsie glanced anxiously at Guy who was now babbling and tossing about on his makeshift bed. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said reluctantly.
‘Don’t worry. We’ll be in good time to make our rendezvous. Things move slowly on the river, but we get there all the same.’
An hour later the flat-bottomed boat was hauled up on shore in a narrow inlet. The shingle beach was sheltered on three sides by woodland, and there was no obvious sign of habitation. Elsie made Guy as comfortable as possible before climbing out onto the shingle. Her limbs were cramped after a long night sitting on deck and it felt wonderful to walk about, taking deep breaths of fresh air. A shout from the skipper made her stop and turn to see him beckoning to her. ‘Breakfast,’ he called. ‘Hot coffee and fried eel.’
She walked back slowly, wondering how she could refuse to share their food without offending the mate. She had eaten and enjoyed the waterzooi prepared by Hendrick’s expert hands, but this was different. The mate had been fishing as the boat glided over the water, but seeing live eels slithering about on the wooden planks reminded her of the grass snakes that were a common sight on the rolling Dorset downs. No one at home would dream of eating a snake, she thought, as she eyed the soot-blackened frying pan with a sinking feeling. She had made herself scarce while the ugly process of killing and skinning the slippery creatures was in progress, but now she must try to eat the cooked flesh, which the skipper assured her was a delicacy.
