already pulling on her coat. ‘I’m going. We have to at least try to warn her. You don’t have to come. Just give me the address.’
Mireille shook her head and now it was her turn to lay a restraining hand on her friend’s arm. ‘I’ll go, Vivi. I know the route she’d have taken. There’s no point us both risking it. You know that – probably better than I do.’ She hugged Vivienne tightly for a moment. ‘Thank you. For telling me. Now stay here and wait. Claire is my responsibility. The network couldn’t afford to lose all three of us.’
Reluctantly, Vivi slumped against the door frame. Mireille knew that this was the right thing to do, although she was also aware that the other members of the network would have disagreed and told her to stay put too. Better to minimise the risk, they would say. Better only to lose one of you. But this was Claire. She couldn’t sit there in the apartment and do nothing, knowing that she’d sent her friend into the danger zone. She had to go and find her and bring her back safely.
Claire had to wait ages for a connecting train. The Métro only ran sporadically these days and there were frequent cancellations and station closures. But, in the end, one rattled into the station and she boarded it, praying that the Billancourt stop would be operational this evening. Otherwise she’d have to walk back from the last station on the line at the Pont de Sèvres and that would make her even more late for her rendezvous with Christiane. The train jolted and swayed and the dim carriage lights flickered repeatedly. At least she felt safe underground, even if it was a false sense of security. Everyone knew the Paris Métro tunnels weren’t deep enough to offer protection if there were a bombing raid. She glanced at her watch and sighed. It was taking longer than she’d hoped. She’d have a long walk back to Saint-Germain if she missed the last homeward-bound train, and would run the risk of being caught out after the curfew.
Frustrated by delays along the line, it was already late as Claire climbed the steps out of the Métro station at Billancourt. An official began to lock the gates behind her.
‘Was that the last train tonight?’ she called to him.
‘Yes, miss.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘And you’d better be getting home now – it’ll be the curfew in ten minutes.’
Now that she’d come this far, Claire knew she had no choice but to go on. It wasn’t far to the rendezvous point. She should have been there an hour ago, so perhaps Christiane would have given up and left, but she had to try at least. There was nothing to lose, in any case – she was already in trouble for being out late if she was stopped by the police or a road block.
The café on the corner, opposite the new apartment blocks that had been built to house the local factory workers, was closing when she reached it. There was no sign of Christiane, only a couple of waiters wiping down tables and stacking chairs. She stood outside, uncertain what to do next. Should she risk waiting in case Christiane came back, or should she cut her losses and start to make the long journey back to Saint-Germain? It was miles, and she’d need to navigate her way through back streets to try to avoid being caught.
As she hesitated, the lights were switched off in the café and the street was plunged into total darkness. The windows of the surrounding homes and businesses were blacked out and many had tightly closed shutters to seal their inhabitants inside – and shut her out.
Nothing moved on the suburban street. There were no passing cars and no latecomers hurrying home. She was too late.
Just as she turned to go, a tiny movement in one of the windows of the apartment block opposite caught her eye. It was almost nothing. Perhaps she’d imagined the glint of light, as if a corner of the blackout had been lifted and then hastily dropped again. She felt uneasy at the thought that someone might have seen her, but decided to wait another minute to see if anyone came.
In the shadows on the silent street, there was an almost imperceptibly soft click as a door was opened. Then a young woman, who fitted the description of Christiane that Claire had been given, slipped