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she looked out of the back window and waved until Bernard faded into the distance.

‘So,’ the driver of the Citroën said, ‘you have lost your Canadian again.’

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

‘Thomas Durand?’ The driver of the car that was going to take her to Paris had been the leader of the Paris Centre, Maquis Resistance cell, during the war. ‘Oh my God,’ Claire said, ‘it is you.’

‘Yes, it is me,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye. And you must be Madame Belland?’

‘For the time being.’ Thomas Durand laughed. ‘It is not funny,’ Claire said.

‘No, it is not,’ Thomas Durand agreed.

Neither spoke for a while, and then Thomas said, ‘I know something of the Canadian and, for what it is worth, I do not think he is a traitor. A womaniser?’ he said, laughing, ‘that is another thing. He is a man after all.’ Claire began to protest, but Thomas cut in, ‘I joke.’

‘Again, not funny,’ Claire said, as casually as her aching heart would allow.

As they drove through Paris’s southern suburbs the two ex-Resistance members talked about the war; the successful missions to stop the trains transporting German troops to Normandy, the friends they had worked with, and the brave Resistance fighters that they had lost.

‘I know Antoinette Marron,’ Thomas Durand said, ‘from the University. Through her, I met your friend Eddie.’

‘Eddie,’ Claire said, tears welling up in her eyes, ‘was the best friend anyone could have. We were young WAAFs together. We learned French together, trained together, the SOE put us through our paces at the same time,’ Claire said, sniffing back her tears. She shook her head. ‘Eddie was killed in Paris after she and Antoinette had smuggled Mitch out of the city in an ambulance. Those two brave women drove him all the way to Orléans.

‘When they got back to Paris, Eddie insisted she took the ambulance back to the hospital on her own and dropped Antoinette off at the house where she lived with her parents.’

‘Why did she risk driving the ambulance back to the hospital? She could have left it in a street nearby.’

‘Antoinette told me Eddie was worried that if there was an emergency during the night the depot would be an ambulance short, which could cost lives.’

‘So she took it back to the depot on her own?’

‘Yes. Apparently, everything had gone to plan. The ambulance was back in its bay when a side door leading into the hospital opened and one of the medics, who Eddie knew really well, came out wielding a gun. He shot Eddie at point blank range. After saving Mitch’s life, Eddie was murdered by someone she thought was a friend.’ Claire didn’t try to stop her tears, she let them flow. ‘That murdering-- was a Frenchman who was born and brought up in Paris.

‘But paid by the Germans,’ Thomas added.

Claire nodded and wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. ‘Poor Eddie. She was so full of life.’

Thomas put his arm out of the window to indicate he was turning left and brought the car to a halt in a side street. He pulled on the handbrake but left the engine ticking over. ‘There’s a café,’ he said, pointing to the opposite side of the road. ‘I think you could do with a drink. I suggest brandy?’ he said, grinning.

‘But I need to get to the Metro or I won’t be at Antoinette and Auguste Marron’s house on time. They’re expecting me for dinner and I don’t want to be late.’

‘I’ll drive you to their house. Then you’ll be there in plenty of time. Come on,’ Thomas said, ‘what do you say?’

Claire reached behind her and grabbed her handbag from the back seat of the car. ‘Okay, you win. It’s been a long day, I could do with a drink.’

Weaving in and out of the slow moving traffic, Claire and Thomas ran across the street. ‘Mm…’ Claire said, entering the café, ‘smell that coffee.’

Thomas ordered two coffees and two brandies and led Claire to a table next to the fire. ‘Are you hungry?’

‘Yes, ravenous, but I’m not sure I could eat anything. My stomach feels like a coiled spring. Besides, Antoinette will have made dinner. I think I should wait but thank you.’ Thomas nodded, took a sip of his coffee, and began to laugh. ‘What now?’ Claire asked.

‘I was thinking about the first time we met. Do you remember?’

‘Of course, I do. I don’t remember the exact date, but it was outside Le Park Café on the Champs Élysées.’

‘You had an old map of the Metro underground and I had to ask you if you were a visitor to Paris.’

‘And my reply was something like, “Not exactly, I am visiting my grandmother, but I want to see the sights.” Then I asked you if you were a visitor and you said--’

“‘No, I’m waiting for a friend, but she has not arrived.’”

Claire hooted with laughter. ‘And that was my cue to leave. But before I could, I had to take the money for my coffee from my purse and leave it on the table. Then I had to put my wallet on the table, under the newspaper, without drawing attention to myself. It was the first time I’d delivered money to a Resistance cell and I was petrified I’d get it wrong.’

‘Is that why you waited on the other side of the avenue for such a long time?’

Claire’s mouth fell open. ‘You knew I was there? You knew I was watching you?’

‘Well… yes.’

‘And there’s me thinking I was blending in with the crowd, that I was invisible. You must have thought I was stupid.’

‘Not at all!’ Thomas sat back in his seat pretending to be shocked. Nor do I think you would blend in with a

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