her tongue to keep from gagging at the oversized picture of Helmut Knochen, the German senior commander of the security police in Paris. He’d rounded up more than one hundred Jews last week in a single swoop, according to the British paper she’d read before coming to Paris. The headlines back home were filled with the dreads of war, yet to read the French news one might believe it was a pure garden party under occupation.
Her fingers crushed the paper over the ugly man’s face. “I found your day planner and noticed you have an appointment at three with a minister of music.”
Ellie’s white satin sleep mask slid higher as her brow wrinkled in concentration. “Oh, yes. We’re supposed to go over the music list for Goebbels’s new film premiere.” She swiveled in her chair. “Pierre! Coffee, tout de suit!”
Kat frowned. “Are you not rationing?”
Turning back around, Ellie waved a manicured hand in dismissal. “Eric is head of Culture and Social Movement. He’s given allowances, like most of the other top officials.”
And Eric’s allowances transferred to Ellie. Sourness knotted in Kat’s stomach. Her baby sister, mistress to a Nazi. When had their lives veered off course and come to this?
Creasing her paper in half, she laid it on the table and took a small bite of her buttered toast. A true luxury. Back home they were allowed a single pat per day, enough to thinly scrape across mealy slices of bread. Were Parisians given the same allotment, or did they find themselves feasting as their occupiers did? “When do I get to meet this mysterious Eric?”
Ellie’s face clouded. “Probably tomorrow. His . . . obligations keep him rather busy.”
A lifetime of sharing sisterly secrets, braiding each other’s hair after lights out, and hiding together from their governess whirled through Kat’s emotions. She longed to reach out and hold her sister’s hand just like she used to when the latest boy broke her heart. Instead, Kat curled her fingers, digging her nails into her palm. Those boys had never been Nazis.
“Does he have many obligations?”
“Too many to count now that Paris is fully under the Third Reich. He’s been tasked personally by the Führer to oversee all the museums, gardens, theaters, and galleries and bring in German influences.”
Kat swiped the crumbs from her fingers to the floor and ground them under her toe. “By Herr Hitler personally. My, my.”
“His family has been friends with Eric’s for years. They’re invited to the Berghof each summer, and Eric is supposed to take me later next month.”
The Berghof. Hitler’s private escape in the Bavarian Alps. One had to be a member of the Nazi Party to gain access to the surrounding towns. If Kat had her way, they’d be safely back home long before Ellie could step foot near that atrocious place. A contact waited in Calais to smuggle them on board a Red Cross ship scheduled to leave for England next week. Screaming or compliant, Kat would have her sister on that ship.
Kat took a sip from her tea, washing down the now soured taste of toast. “Quite important, this man you’ve snagged. However did you meet?”
“At the Garnier for a performance of Salome. He sat in the box next to mine, but he kept watching me instead of the stage the whole night. He introduced himself at the intermission, and we’ve been inseparable since. Well, nearly inseparable. Pierre! Where’s my coffee?”
Pierre hurried to the table and slid a silver tray with a steaming cup of coffee and a plate of croissants in front of Ellie. Black circles ringed his eyes as he blinked slowly like an owl up past its bedtime. The man had probably never seen his pillow last night. “Excusez moi. I could not find the coffeepot this morning. One of the guests had stuffed it on the top bookshelf.”
Leaning back in her chair, Ellie lit a cigarette and puffed between coffee sips. She closed her eyes and tilted her face to the warm sun. Without all the heavy makeup from last night she looked like the sister from years ago.
How many days as children had they spent lying in the far fields of the estate, gazing up at the blue sky to see who could count the most fluffy white clouds? Kat always let Ellie win. Hard to believe they had once been so young and innocent.
The longing crumbled to sadness. Kat had grown to accept her duties, but Ellie still chased clouds. Only this time they bore the