China Blue (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 3) by Madalyn Morgan (top 100 novels of all time TXT) 📕

‘Even so--’

‘You worry too much.’

‘Apologies for the delay, Miss.’ The waiter wiped the table before putting the coffee down. ‘This week we have suddenly become very busy.’ He flashed a sideways glance to the table nearest the door, where half a dozen Gestapo officers sat drinking beer and talking loudly. ‘The Hun on the left has been watching you,’ he whispered. Then in his normal voice he said, ‘Enjoy your coffee.’ Smiling, he collected the dirty crockery from the table next to theirs and made his way back to the counter.

‘So the influx of Boche happened a week ago?’

‘By the number of vehicles parked outside the hotels, they’ve taken them over. I’m going to check the back of the café, see if there’s an escape route,’ he whispered. ‘Will you be okay if I go to the toilet, China?’

Claire tutted. ‘Of course I will, but stop calling me China,’ she whispered. ‘I am Claire! Are you listening?’ She elbowed Alain in the ribs and he nodded. ‘If you’re overheard-- Well, it doesn’t bear thinking about.’

‘I know. I’m sorry. So excuse me, Claire, I am going for a pee.’

As Alain got up from the table, Claire saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. A second later the German officer who had been watching her stood up and walked across to her table. Pretending she hadn’t seen him, she took a book from her shopping bag and began to read.

‘Interesting reading?’ the German asked. Claire had to stop herself from showing surprise, his French was so good.

The nerves on the top of her stomach began to tighten. She looked up into a pair of cold, ice-blue eyes. ‘Er, yes … it is.’

The German moved to her side and looked down at the book, now on the table. ‘Delphine?’

‘Yes, Madame de Staël was my mother’s favourite novelist.’

‘Was your mother interested in politics?’

Claire forced herself to smile. ‘No, she just enjoyed reading historical novels. She wasn’t formally educated and said reading was a good way to learn.’

‘Do you know the book De l'Allemagne?’

‘No. I’m afraid I only read fiction.’

‘That is a shame. Madame de Staël’s book was a great influence on German literature. And your sweetheart? Does he read to you?’ the German asked suddenly, tilting his head in the direction of the toilets.

‘My sweetheart? Do you mean--’ Claire wrinkled her nose in disgust. ‘He is my cousin.’

‘Is she talking your head off?’ Alain asked, walking briskly to the table where the German officer was leaning uncomfortably close to Claire.

The German straightened as Alain sat down. ‘No. We were discussing literature.’ Clicking his heels, he bowed his head. ‘Goodbye,’ he said, and left. The men who had been sitting with him jumped up and followed him out of the café.

‘Learn anything?’

‘What? For goodness’ sake, give me a second to gather my wits. My heart’s pounding.’

Claire inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and slowly let the air out of her lungs.

‘He was that good, eh?’

‘He was actually. He asked me a lot of questions in a very short time.’

‘I think he’s sweet on you.’

‘You could be right, or making up to me could have been a smokescreen. I’ll tell you what he said on the way back to the farm. Let’s get out of here, I need some air.’

‘OK, but go to the toilet first. Give me a chance to have a look out front. Don’t rush,’ Alain added. ‘I’ll wait for you outside.’

Claire went to the back of the café and opened the toilet door. Instead of going in, she watched Alain stroll across the café to the counter and pay. Outside he lit a cigarette, shifted his weight from one leg to the other and looked at his watch several times. When she thought he had waited for long enough, she left.

As she stepped through the café’s front door, Alain blew out a cloud of smoke. He flicked the cigarette butt to the ground and stamped on it as if he was angry having to wait for her. In a raised voice he complained that she always kept him waiting. Claire argued back saying the toilet wasn’t vacant and she had to wait for ages, because someone was in there. Alain threw his hands up in the air and marched off. Claire ran after him.

On the road to the farm they discussed and dissected the conversation. The conclusion Alain came to was that the German officer was attracted to her. ‘He questioned you about me to see if you were available. You did well,’ he said, ‘especially using the novel. Well done, China.’

Claire tutted and smiled. For once she didn’t tell Alain off for using her code name, or at least half of it.

‘Shush! I can hear vehicles.’ Claire heard them too. ‘Drop back a few paces and stay behind me until they pass. You’re still annoyed with me for shouting at you, right?’

‘Right!’ Swinging her basket in one hand, Claire put the other on her hip in a defiant gesture. She kicked the grass verge in anger. Realising that she had scuffed her shoes, she stopped to look at them for a second. As the German vehicles got closer Claire pretended to hear them and looked back along the road, before running to catch up with Alain. She hadn’t reached him by the time the convoy drove by. In the short time it took the vehicles to turn the bend in the road, Claire had counted how many lorries of soldiers there were, and how many covered trucks carrying equipment and artillery.

When the last truck disappeared out of sight, Alain stopped and Claire caught