The Eagle Trail

by Robert Rigby

Didier laughed. “As far as I know he’s not a mind-reader. And, anyway, by not walking home with him you have the pleasure of my company for a little longer.”

  Josette couldn’t stop herself from laughing as she turned to look at Didier. “And what makes you think I enjoy your company?”

  “It’s obvious,” Didier said with a shrug. He glanced around. There was no one nearby but he lowered his voice when he spoke. “Paul’s had a tough time, Josette.”

  “Yes, I know about his father,” Josette said, “it’s awful.”

  “It’s not just his father; his mother was taken away by the Germans too. And then…” Didier took another look around and moved closer to Josette. Speaking in little more than a whisper he told her about the fight with the man on the train. “It’s the truth,” he said. “Paul fought for his life and defeated an enemy of France. That’s a lot more than you or I have done in this war, so at the very least he deserves our respect.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  Paul soon settled into his new role at the factory. Over the next few days he proved himself capable at basic mechanical jobs, impressing Didier with his effort and attitude.

  “Keep your head down and get on with the job,” was Henri’s advice on day one and Paul was doing exactly as instructed.

  The factory foreman, Marcel Castelnaud, was slightly put out at not being informed earlier about the new member of the workforce, but a few soothing words from Henri quickly restored his usual good humour. As for the rest of the staff, their initial interest soon waned, to be replaced by a friendly indifference towards Paul. With one exception, Yvette Bigou.

  Ever-inquisitive Yvette seemed to want to take the new boy under her wing. And she had an uncanny knack of homing in on him whenever he was alone on the factory floor.

  Then the grilling would begin.

  “So, you’re living with Henri and Hélène?”

  “Yes, at the moment.”

  “Such nice people, and good friends of mine. Will you be staying on here, then?”

  “I don’t know, we’ll have to see.”

  “Oh, I do hope so. It’s so nice to have a handsome new face in the factory.”

  She was relentless, and Paul had to be inventive with excuses to make his escape. “I’d better get back to Didier, he needs me to hold the ladder.”

  “Which ladder?”

  “See you later, Yvette.”

  Paul was always eager to escape Yvette’s clutches, but Josette was a different matter. She came looking for him the day after her conversation with Didier and got straight to the point. “I’m sorry for the things I said when we went for that walk.”

  “It’s all right,” Paul replied, slightly surprised. “I shouldn’t have said what I said about the accent. And I didn’t mean—”

  “I know,” Josette said, interrupting. She hesitated and then smiled shyly. “We got off to a bad start, didn’t we?”

  Paul was momentarily lost for words. This was a new side to Josette. She was softer, friendlier and her dark brown eyes were warm and sincere rather than fiery and hostile. As Paul stared, he realized that her eyes were actually very beautiful.

  “Yes, we did,” he managed to say.

  “Maybe we could start again?”

  Paul nodded. “I’d like that.”

  “And I won’t ask you so many questions.”

  “You can ask me questions.” He smiled. “I might not answer them, but you can ask.”

  Over the next couple of days Josette did ask further questions, and so did Paul. Not about the war or dangerous secrets but about themselves; their likes and dislikes, their dreams and ambitions. Almost without realizing it they discovered that they wanted to know about each other because they liked each other. Liked each other a lot.

  The following Saturday morning, Josette suggested they take another walk into the town. “I promise it won’t be like the last time,” she told him.

  It was a fine, bright day. They looked in a few shop windows, Paul bought himself the sturdy pair of walking boots he would soon need and afterwards Josette suggested they stop for a drink on a café terrace.

  “Good idea,” Paul said. They had passed a café on the main street and he turned to retrace his steps.

  “No, not that café,” Josette said quickly. “I know a better one.”

  She strode quickly away and Paul had no option but to follow. Turning off the main street they arrived at a small, tree-lined square.

  “That’s the place,” Josette said.

  She led the way onto the café terrace and took a seat at a table beneath the awning, close to the wide front window.

  “We’re in the shade here,” Paul said. “Wouldn’t you rather be in the sun?”

  “No, this is fine,” Josette said quickly. “If you don’t mind.”

  Paul shrugged. Remembering Josette’s explosive temper he sat down without comment.

  A man emerged from inside the café. “Ah, Josette,” he said, smiling. “And how are you?”

  “Very well, Victor, thank you,” Josette replied.

  Victor nodded at Paul and then looked at Josette, waiting for an introduction. It didn’t come. Josette simply ordered their drinks and said nothing more.

  “He probably knows who you are anyway,” she said to Paul once Victor had gone. “Everyone knows everyone in Lavelanet.”

  Their soft drinks arrived quickly. They were alone on the terrace and just a few customers were sitting inside the café.

  “So, what’s so special about this place?” Paul asked. “It’s not very busy.”

  “This is where Jean-Pierre Dilhat came to talk,” Josette answered in a hushed voice.

  “To talk?”

  “To try to get others to join the … you know, the fight.”

  “But that doesn’t tell me why we’re here,” Paul said.

  Josette stole a quick look through the window to the dark interior. “My dad, Didier and Gaston are all concentrating on getting you over the mountains. But there’s a traitor in Lavelanet, the person who betrayed Jean-Pierre. And when you’re in Spain and on your way to England the traitor will still be here. So we have to find him.”

  “We?”

  “I,” Josette said. “But I’d like your help.”

  “I’ll be gone in a few days.”

  “Perhaps we’ll only need a few days. Lavelanet is a small place, and like I said, everyone…”

  “…knows everyone,” Paul said.

  “Exactly.”

  Paul thought for a moment and then nodded. “Tell me what you know.”

  Josette smiled. “I’m not certain of anything, of course, but maybe the people here weren’t as trustworthy as Jean-Pierre believed.”

  “Here? You mean at this café?”

  Josette nodded. “There’s Victor Forêt, for a start.”

  “The man who brought our drinks?”

  Josette nodded again. “He owns the café, but every time I was here I could see he didn’t agree with Jean-Pierre. It was obvious, and he always argued against taking action.”

  “That doesn’t make him a traitor.”

  “I know, but…” Josette fell silent before gesturing with her head towards the window. “You see those two young men sitting at the bar? Don’t let them see you looking.”

  Paul picked up his drink, took a sip and at the same time glanced through the window at the two men. “What about them?”

  “Alain Noury and Yves Besson. They work at the comb factory, but from what I see they’re always here. They let Jean-Pierre buy them drinks, but they didn’t join him in the fight.”

  Paul snatched another look at the two men. “Maybe they realized that if they listened to what he said they’d get another free drink.”

  Josette’s eyes flashed. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “No, I’m not, honestly, Josette,” Paul said. “But we need a lot more to go on than what you’ve told me. A few words from the café owner and few free drinks for the other two – it’s not evidenc
e, is it?”

  “No,” Josette agreed with a sigh.

  “Is there anyone else you suspect?” Paul asked. “Not necessarily someone at this café?”

  Josette sighed. “I made a terrible mistake over Papa and Gaston Rouzard.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “But there’s another gendarme officer, Bertrand Picou. I’ve never liked him; he can be a really nasty piece of work.”

  “But that doesn’t make him a traitor either. And, anyway, your father said Jean-Pierre was arrested by officers from … where was it? Another town near here…”

  “Mirepoix. Bertrand Picou could have tipped them off.”

  “You’re just guessing. Or picking on people you don’t like.”

  Josette stared stubbornly at Paul and then sank back in her chair with a sigh of frustration. “I was hoping you’d see something I’ve missed.”

  “You probably haven’t missed anything,” Paul said. “But you probably haven’t found the right person.”

  They finished their drinks, each deep in thought, and neither heard footsteps approaching on the pavement.

  “Hello, you two. What’s this, a secret romantic rendezvous?”

  Gaston Rouzard was standing at the edge of the terrace, smiling broadly.

  “Don’t be silly, Gaston,” Josette said hurriedly, blushing. “We just stopped for a drink. It’s hot.”

  Gaston winked and tapped the side of his nose with an index finger. “Yes, and I’ll be certain not to mention to young Didier that I saw you.”

  He laughed and then continued on his way.

  Paul and Josette sat in embarrassed silence, both staring at their empty glasses.

  “I … I, er, didn’t know,” Paul said eventually.

  “Know what?”

  “About Didier.”

  “What about Didier?”

  “You and… Is he your boyfriend?”

  “No, he is not my boyfriend,” Josette snapped. “Didier is my friend. Probably my best friend, but that’s all.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  “And for your information, I’m not interested in boyfriends. I told Didier and now I’m telling you.” She got to her feet. “Understood?”

  Paul nodded. “Understood.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  “Everything is arranged; we’re ready to move.”

  Paul glanced quickly at Josette and then back at Henri. “When?”

  “Tomorrow night.”

  Paul’s eyes widened. “That soon?”

  “It must be tomorrow,” Henri said. “We free Jean-Pierre Dilhat from the camp at midnight. You’ll be at a safe house here in Lavelanet and when we return from Rivel we’ll take you both to the team waiting to lead you over the mountains.”

  They all stared at Paul – Henri, Gaston, Didier, Hélène and Josette – waiting for his response. The final phase of the operation was to commence in little more than twenty-four hours, but for a few seconds he didn’t know what to say.

  “How will you get Jean-Pierre out?” he asked eventually.

  Henri glanced at Gaston, who nodded. “We’ve bribed one of the guards,” Gaston said. “I’ll see him tomorrow to give him his first payment. He gets the rest when you and Jean-Pierre are safely in Spain.”

  Paul’s mind was racing. For some reason, which he couldn’t quite grasp, he didn’t feel elated by the news. He felt confused, but there was no time to work out why.

  “There’s more you need to know, Paul,” Henri said. “Jean-Pierre has just been released from solitary confinement. And he’s in poor shape, according to Gaston’s contact.”

  “It’s his own fault,” Gaston snapped angrily. “He should have kept his mouth shut, but instead he got himself punished for insubordination and inciting the other prisoners to protest. Bloody fool!”

  Henri placed a hand on Gaston’s arm. “There’s nothing we can do about it now, my friend,” he said softly. He turned to Paul. “It means that your journey across the mountains could be more difficult than we anticipated. You may need to help Jean-Pierre.”

  Josette had been biting her tongue, desperate to join in the conversation but certain that her father would not welcome her comments. But she couldn’t stay silent any longer. “Wouldn’t it be better to wait until Jean-Pierre has recovered and is stronger?”

  “We can’t wait,” Henri said. “The mountain team is ready now and this will almost certainly be the last opportunity before the weather breaks. Once that happens a crossing is impossible.”

  “And it’s not only the crossing,” Gaston added gruffly. “They won’t put up with troublemakers in the camp; another spell in solitary and Jean-Pierre…” he paused, his eyes going from Josette to Hélène, “…well, it might be more than he can take.”

  Hélène gasped, putting a hand to her mouth.

  “Don’t worry,” Henri said quickly to his wife, “we’ll get him out, I promise.”

  Despite his brave words the atmosphere in the room was suddenly thick with anxiety.

  Paul looked at the three men seated opposite. They were ordinary men, not trained soldiers or highly skilled covert operators. They were stepping into unknown and uncertain territory, their first real taste of action. Organizing and coordinating his escape across the mountains was risky enough, and the planned freeing of Jean-Pierre Dilhat from the internment camp only added to the danger.

  They were all heroes as far as Paul was concerned. “I’ll do everything I can to help Jean-Pierre,” he said to Henri. “I won’t let you down.”

  Henri smiled. “I know that, Paul, thank you. Now, tomorrow we must all act as though nothing is different. At the factory, it’s a normal working day – we must not arouse suspicions.”

  “And when work is over?” Hélène asked.

  “We’ll return here as usual, and before I leave for Rivel I’ll take Paul to the safe house.” He turned to Paul. “I’ll be giving you a lot of money. Enough to pay your guides the remainder of their fee when you reach Spain and more to use as you need it, to make certain you and Jean-Pierre reach England safely.”

  “But how will we know they’ve got there safely?” Josette asked her father anxiously.

  “We’ll know,” Henri replied. “A message will come through on the radio. And then we will celebrate, eh?”

  He laughed, but it was forced and artificial. Henri looked pale and weary, and Paul could see that the strain of planning the operation and the responsibility it brought were beginning to tell.

  Hélène had noticed it too. “You look tired, Henri.”

  “Me? No, I’m fine,” Henri said with a smile and a shrug of his shoulders. “But now, Gaston, Didier and I must talk about Jean-Pierre and Rivel, so if you and Josette and Paul…”

  “Of course,” Hélène said.

  Josette took a deep breath, about to demand that they be allowed to stay, but she saw Didier watching, silently suggesting she say nothing. He gave her a wink, and reluctantly she got to her feet and followed her mother from the room.

  Paul was about to leave too, but Henri signalled for him to wait. “One more thing, Paul,” he said, when he was certain Hélène and Josette were out of earshot. “There was a radio message broadcast last night. It seems that your friend in Antwerp has been released by the Germans.”

  “Jos Theys?”

  “I think so. Although no one is using real names on the radio now, just code-names, so I can’t be certain. But I believe it’s him.”

  “So … so what does it mean?”

  “It can only mean he managed to convince the Nazis he’s not part of the Resistance movement. I thought you should know.”

  “Thank you,” Paul said. “And there was nothing about my mother?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Paul nodded and turned to leave, but at the open doorway he stopped and looked back. “Thank you,” he said again, but this time it was to all three men sitting at the table.

  He stepped from the room and pulled the heavy door shut. As he
turned around, out of nowhere, there was Josette.

  “Come with me,” she whispered.

  They were lying face down and side by side on the floor of Josette’s bedroom, ears pressed to the floor.

  “Something tells me you’ve done this before,” Paul whispered.

  “Shh,” Josette breathed, “I want to hear what they’re saying.”

  In the room below, Henri, Gaston and Didier were speaking quietly as they discussed the plan for freeing Jean-Pierre Dilhat from the camp at Rivel.

  “So, tomorrow afternoon,” Henri said, “Gaston takes the train to Chalabre to meet with his Rivel contact and confirms that he must have Jean-Pierre ready by the fence at midnight – away from the road, on the south side, where it’s darkest.”

  “And I give him half the money,” Gaston added. “He gets the rest later.”

  “But the other guards,” Didier said, “I’m still worried about them.”

  “I told you before,” Gaston said, “we don’t need to worry. No one has escaped – or even tried to escape – from the camp. The guards hardly bother to check the huts and never patrol the fences at night. They’ll sleep through the whole thing.”

  “Maybe it will change after tomorrow night,” Didier said.

  “After tomorrow night doesn’t concern us,” Gaston said irritably. “So can we move on, please?”

  “All right,” Henri said, “let’s all keep calm, eh?” There was a moment of silence before he continued. “We take two vehicles to Rivel. Didier takes his motorcycle by the back roads, while Léon Anglade and I drive there in the truck, using the main road.”

  In the room above, Paul caught Josette’s eye and mouthed almost silently, “Who is Léon Anglade?”

  “From Foix,” Josette whispered. “A friend of Papa’s.”

  “Once we have freed Jean-Pierre,” Henri continued, “Léon and I return to Lavelanet by the same route…”

  “While I take Jean-Pierre to the safe house on the bike, using the back roads again,” Didier said.

  Paul was trying to figure out why this man named Léon Anglade had suddenly joined the operation. The answer came from Gaston Rouzard.

  “I’m sorry I can’t be with you,” he said, “but it’s too risky. An off-duty trip to see an old colleague in Chalabre is easy enough to explain. But these days, even when I’m off duty the station has to know where I am. The new regulations tell us it’s in case of an emergency.” He laughed. “When did we last have an emergency in Lavelanet?”