planned, Vivi hoped that her modest part in the war effort would save lives.
Terrier’s smiling face swam into her memory, and tears filled her eyes as she thought of his words, ‘I want to go out in a blaze of glory. I would rather live a short but exciting life than die of boredom in obscurity.’ Is that what she was choosing? To die in a blaze of glory? It sounded so much grander in word than the reality of this cold dark cell where she would spend her final hours. Vivi was pretty sure there would be no monument erected in her honour as Terrier had suggested for himself. No one but God and Marcus knew what she was doing, and things had happened so fast she had been unable to follow up on the wireless transmission she had sent to England. She thought of Anne-Marie, wherever she was, probably in hiding, mourning the death of her brother. She thought of the Renoirs in Paris and how they had given her a place to live and a family. Where were they now?
Vivi was convinced of what she needed to do. She needed to die to pay the price of so many people who had been killed because of her. She may not have always been courageous, but she could be now.
Suddenly her thoughts returned to that time on the boat when Mr Thompson had turned to her and told her she would find the courage when she needed it. She knew more than ever she needed it now, and she hoped with all of her heart that she could go through with it so that Marcus could finish the work they’d started. One thing she knew: no matter what transpired, she would die today.
When they came for her that morning, her whole body was shaking, betraying her relentless inner courage, but she was ready. It amazed her she’d survived this long. Many operators barely lasted weeks. If she were still with SOE, she’d probably have been dead by now, anyway. At least this way she could help the Allies, by keeping Marcus’s cover. As they marched her to the square, there was considerable commotion around her, and she overheard two of the soldiers talking to another as they positioned her in front of a wall. They were saying there was a substantial advance on the Normandy beaches taking place. Vivi felt relief. It had started. The Allies had made it to France.
Marcus needed to stay alive even more now, to continue the confusion that needed to take place so the invasion would be successful. Vivi felt a sense of pride. She had put her country first. She had done the right thing for Britain. She found those feelings of patriotism washing away the dread that was throbbing through her body.
When Marcus arrived he looked terrible, as if he hadn’t slept all night. Two other soldiers flanked him and also Weissman. Vivi knew the Germans always executed people with more than one person armed, just in case one of them lost their nerve.
Marcus walked to the centre of the courtyard. She saw him stealthily touch his breast pocket – the suicide pill. He had meant what he said. If for some reason it went wrong, and they killed her, he would take his own life. Vivi knew the capsule had to be cracked between his teeth to release the cyanide.
He strode up to her, the two guards by his side. It appeared by their scrutiny that Weissman had told the others to maintain a good eye on him. As he looked to her, he signalled with his eyes to the gate at the end of the square, informing her that his plan was in place. She nodded, going along with what he was suggesting, but she had her own plan now.
‘Do you have any last words?’ he said loudly so Weissman could hear him. The major stood to the side of the square watching the proceedings.
‘I am sorry, Major Vonstein, for deceiving you and making you believe that I loved you.’
Behind Marcus, Weissman sniffed, as though he was confirming he had been right all along.
Marcus looked confused, and then seemed to realise that she was playing a part for the soldiers.
‘Yes. It was most regrettable. Fortunately, I didn’t believe your lie, so there is no harm done. You have betrayed the Reich, and you must pay the price for that. Do you have any last requests?’