was of apprehension and fear and they all reflected back her own feelings. Vivi sat paralysed for a moment, not wanting to get off, and it took Terrier tugging on her arm to break the spell she was under. Raising to her feet her legs started to shake uncontrollably and all she could think was, what on earth had she been thinking of, believing that she could do this? Suddenly, it all felt so real and so very dangerous. In the little villages on the coast the Germans had been there, but on the whole, the atmosphere in the rural towns had been tense but casual. Here in Paris, it was extremely different. She was grateful for Terrier’s arm as he locked it in hers and hustled her off the train and along the platform. Once on the street he began his usual evasive walking course, taking them up and down streets and back alleys.
As they walked, she felt overwhelmed with the change to the city she had visited before the war. Remembering it as a lively town with a unique joie de vivre, now the streets were teeming with marching Nazis and angry-looking swastikas hung from every government building. And the fear on the street was palpable. Vivi repeated over and over to herself the address of the safe house she’d been given before she had left Britain as a way to calm her mind and quell the fear that was rising up from her stomach and tasting bitter in her mouth. Terrier had reminded her of it on the train, instructing her if there were any complications, anything at all, to go to the safe house.
‘Do you understand? Fifty-three Boulogne Street. Ask for Madame Mazella; she will provide a room. You tell her that Terrier sent you. Do you follow me? Is that clear?’
Vivi had nodded, hoping that she would never need a safe house.
As they finally reached their destination he tapped on the door of the home she was to live at and Vivi was grateful to get away from the desperate atmosphere on the streets of Paris. The house was in Boulogne-Billancourt on the outskirts of the city – a simple, unpretentious place – and though she hadn’t been completely sure of what to expect, this nondescript building hadn’t been it.
The door opened. An older woman played her part.
‘Ah, I’m overjoyed to see you. What a dear you are, to bring our sweet cousin Claudette all the way. Thank you so much. We have been anticipating her arrival.’
They headed inside, and the tiny woman with animated eyes and grey hair captured tidily in a tight bun shut the door behind them.
‘Are you sure you weren’t followed?’ she enquired in a hushed voice.
He shook his head. ‘No one ever follows me,’ he responded playfully as he kissed her warmly on both cheeks.
She then glared at Vivi, and Vivi could tell she wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Then making up her mind the woman shook her head. ‘You are too pretty. They need to send us plain girls. She will attract every Nazi in this town.’
Vivi didn’t know how to respond to that.
The Terrier laughed. ‘Which is precisely why they won’t suspect anything. They will be expecting the plain girls, but with the good-looking ones, they’ll only be thinking about one thing,’ he quipped with her, playfully, tapping her cheeks and continuing, using his nickname for her, ‘Come on, Maman, you are not to fret so much. This war will be won soon, and young Claudette here will help you win it.’
They made their way into the house and Vivi shivered. It felt dark and gloomy compared to being outside. This was an old gentleman of a house with heavy brown mahogany-panelled walls and a high white ceiling. The room she was led into was dominated by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and large pieces of older furniture. Vivi noticed everything was meticulously clean and polished but there were no frills. A solid oak dining table was at the other end of the room with a large blue-and-yellow ceramic bowl in the centre, which Vivi surmised had probably contained fruit in peacetime. A smooth veneered sideboard with family photo atop anchored the other wall. Around the dark-stone fireplace comfortable chairs were placed for optimum warmth with threadbare covers over the armrests and backs of the chairs. More books were stacked in a pile by the side of one of the chairs and the smell of strong coffee and pipe tobacco lingered