was in a different league entirely. Then she met his frank gaze and swallowed her fear. ‘I can do it. I’m sure Mademoiselle Vannier would give me some leave since I haven’t taken any for ages. Besides, ever since my “accident” I still get dizzy sometimes and she’s been urging me to try to get a travel pass and go and see my father for a bit of sea air. But I’ll need to see if the Germans will give me a permit to travel. And what about Fréd, he’ll need one too? I don’t know how long it will take to apply for them . . .’
‘It’s already sorted,’ said Monsieur Leroux. ‘I have the papers here for you both.’ He set down the official-looking documents from the Préfecture de Police, headed ‘Ausweis’ and stamped with the two-headed eagle and swastika of the German administration. ‘You can leave tomorrow afternoon. Get yourselves to the Pont de Neuilly by four o’clock, where there will be transport to take you as far as Chartres. You’ll each have a room there for the night and then they’ll take you on to Nantes. It’s not exactly the most direct route, but it’s the only one we’ve been able to organise at short notice. From Nantes you’re on your own, though. You’ll need to use public transport, if you can find any, or ask for a lift. You have to make it to Port Meilhon by Friday night. It’s crucial that the boat makes it out on the tide when it’s too low for the larger German vessels to patrol close in.’
Claire glanced around the table at the faces that were watching her intently. Mireille’s dark eyes were filled with fear; Vivi’s clear hazel gaze was as calm as usual, but a flicker of concern betrayed her anxiety. Fréd smiled at her, encouragingly. And then she turned to Monsieur Leroux. His eyes were kind, but an added warmth shone from them that she hadn’t noticed before. It was a warmth that made her heart beat faster and brought a flush of colour to her cheeks.
‘Okay,’ she said, pushing back her chair to cover her confusion. ‘I’d better go and pack my bag then.’
As she was folding a couple of things she’d need on the journey, Monsieur Leroux appeared in the door of her bedroom. ‘I have one more item for you to take, Claire.’ He held out a small, flat package which was wrapped in oilskin, the edges of which had been sewn together tightly. ‘It is vital that this goes with Fréd when he leaves, but it will be safer if he doesn’t know about it until the last minute. Carry it with you at all times. They’ll be less likely to search you than him if you are stopped. Do everything you can to keep it safe, but make sure you give it to Fréd as he leaves the French shore. Do not trust anyone else with it. Do you understand?’
She nodded, and as she took the package from him, he folded his other hand over hers and held it tightly for a moment before letting go. Claire met his gaze and thought she read a question in his eyes, but it was one that she couldn’t answer now.
She looked at the package he’d handed her, taking in the neatness of the stitches that sealed it shut. Suddenly some things made sense. She couldn’t help asking, ‘Is this what Vivi was working on earlier?’
He put a finger to his lips and then laid his hand over hers again, squeezing her fingers, and she took comfort from the touch. He always seemed to have this air of quiet assurance, she told herself, trying to ignore the other things she’d begun to notice about him, like the way he looked at her and the way his chiselled features made her want to spend more time with him than she had. It was just his calmness and confidence that she found so attractive, she thought, as if – whatever came along – he knew he could take it in his stride.
She only wished she felt that same confidence herself.
Harriet
Just when I was starting to feel a bit more admiration for Claire, being brave enough to agree to become a passeuse and take the Free French airman on the dangerous journey to escape through Brittany, she seems to be falling in love with another womaniser. I can only hope Monsieur Leroux isn’t going to break her