Swim Until You Can't See Land (28 page)

‘
Une femme
.’

‘Not now, Sabine.’

She hadn’t felt so brave earlier. God, when she’d heard Monsieur Simon whistling that tune.

La Madelon

Her finger stopped tapping instantly. Even though her hands shook, she took off her headphones, packed the wireless away into the suitcase and hid it behind one of the wicker crates of cheese that had been left to ripen.

Her suitcase would stink of cheese now.

Monsieur Simon let her out the back door and she cycled through the woods back to Madame’s, had a fit of nervous giggling on the way. Laughed so much, she hit a tree stump, fell off her bike. Then she lay on the ground laughing even more.

All that manoeuvre training: how to traverse a room without touching the floor, how to cross a pool of sulphuric acid. She couldn’t even navigate her bicycle around a tree stump.

God, I’m hysterical, she thought. My first close encounter and I’ve had a nervous breakdown. Her stomach ached by the time she managed to compose herself and get back on her bicycle.

Madame Poirier met her at the gate, pulled leaves and twigs from her hair and cardigan.

‘Have you been rolling in the hay with Alex?’

That set Sabine off again.

PM  FC  DO  OA  PF  MU  BJ  BD  JU  PM  FD  BT  AR  UA  FG

‘If only you knew, Madame, if only you knew.’

Just thinking about it now, back in the safety of Madame’s house, Sabine felt like she was about to lose control again. She bit the inside of her mouth, nipped her thigh under the table. Alex would send her straight back if he knew how she’d behaved.

Sabine took her place in the field. The stars were so clear out here. All around her, sinking down on either side, as if she was locked inside a snow globe.

- .... . / -.- .. ... ... / -... ..- .-. -. - / .- --. .- .. -. ... - / .... . .-. / -.-. --- .-.. -.. / ... -.- .. -.

She’d never seen so many stars before, it made her dizzy and she had to look down at her feet.

She could hear the Lysander approaching, then she heard Alex’s whistle.

She switched on her bicycle lamp, saw the others lighting torches around her, remembered her training. The model of a field, split up into grids with pins and string.

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*      *      *      *     

Drop here!

Sabine held the light steady, looked up as the plane came closer, closer. Saw it drop the containers, parachutes open, as they fell to earth.

The lights in the field began to sway, dissipate, as people moved towards the falling packages.

She counted the parachutes, shining in the night sky. They whistled as they fell.

Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf
.

There was a crash to the right of her.

‘
Merde
,’ she heard someone say, ‘that one’s ruined, damn parachute.’

The Lysander continued overheard, back home to Britain. Sabine listened to the hum of the engines diminish. She blew it a kiss.

- .... . / -.- .. ... ... / -... ..- .-. -. - / .- --. .- .. -. ... - / .... . .-. / -.-. --- .-.. -.. / ... -.- .. -.

It made her homesick to think of it leaving her behind.

She missed Mama, Father.

Cath.

Were they being sent the carefully timed letters, written months in advance?

Did they believe what she’d written?

Hello from London, not much has changed in the last week or so. Still driving the top brass around.

Coffee dripped from the spout of the pot, staining the white tablecloth.

‘I’m sorry it tastes so bad,’ said Madame Poirier, ‘it was the best I could do. I’ve had to use that ground coffee five times now, it’s more like coloured water.’

‘Maybe Merle could make a request in her next sked. Send more coffee
vite vite
,’ said Sebastian.

TD  JF  GT  DF  BT  DZ  IF  IY  EO  IY  EO  DY

‘They have less coffee than we do, besides it’s tea I miss,’ said Sabine.

‘Tea! You have been living in Britain too long,
mademoiselle
.’

Sabine smiled, sipped at her coffee, tried not to let it show on her face just how rotten it tasted. She would have preferred plain old hot water to this brown concoction, but Madame Poirier did her best with the rations she had.

‘Right, lights off, containers on the transport, get rid of the parachutes.’

There was something in Alex’s voice. Something that told her not to waste time. She felt it herself – tonight didn’t feel right.

Madame Poirier had asked Sabine to bring her home the parachutes before they were spirited away to be sold, or made into shirts for the résistants. Sabine would have to disappoint her.

Keep your wits about you and learn to trust your gut. Usually the first hunch you have about a situation will be the right one. If something, no matter how trivial, feels wrong then it probably means that you’re in danger.

She flicked off the light, put it in her pocket, ran over to the container closest to her. She took one end of the vertical cylinder while Sebastian took the other.

‘Do you think Alex is mad at me?’ Sebastian asked as he walked backwards towards the transport.

‘Should he be?’ She tried to catch the look on his face but it was too dark. She stumbled, lost her grip on the container.

‘Careful,’ said Sebastian.

‘You need to be careful too.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘We need to get the field cleared.’

‘Sabine.’

Alex stood behind them.

‘Less talk, more work.’

They dumped the container and she ran back into the field to help with another.

Madame opened a tin of peaches, tipped them into a bowl then siphoned the syrupy juice off into a glass. She handed the glass to Sabine.

‘
Non
, you have it Madame.’

‘I’ll have it,’ said Sebastian, holding out his hand.

‘Sabine is recovering from a terrible illness,’ Madame winked. ‘Besides, you boys have her running all over France on your errands.’

Sabine pushed her coffee away, put the glass of juice to her lips. It was warm and sticky, sweet against her tongue. She finished it in two gulps, then wished she’d savoured it in smaller sips, made it last longer.

‘I’ve sent Sebastian with the containers, changed the plan though, told him to go to Monsieur Thorozan’s barn,’ Alex took Sabine to one side.

‘
D’accord
, because of Natalie?’

‘
Oui
, I’m going to see her – something doesn’t add up.’

‘I agree.’

‘I’m worried about her motives.’

‘He’s a good looking boy…’

‘Yes, but she’s an even better looking girl.’

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‘You don’t think she would betray us though?’

‘That’s what I’m going to find out.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘I need you safe, just in case something is wrong. No point both of us getting caught.’

‘Then I’ll go, she might be more likely to speak to me, and, well… if you get caught… they know you. I can bluff my way out.’

‘
Non
, I’m going, I won’t argue about this.’

Alex sat in the corner of the room in an armchair, staring at a small radio balanced on his knee.

Sabine could hear the faint broadcast he listened to through the crackled reception.

ICI LONDRES

‘Ssshh,
fermez-la
.’ Alex held up a hand and the room went quiet.

ET VOICI QUELQUES MESSAGES PERSONNELS
.

TP  TM  TP  EP  UI  BT  EF  DO  OS  SP  TD

This was the moment of truth. Had her skeds been heard by London? Had she made sense?

Sabine lit her bicycle lamp briefly, got her bearings and began the walk back to Madame’s. Alex was right to send the containers to a different hiding place. Natalie knew too much about tonight. He was right about Sebastian too. He was young and romantic. Reckless.

It didn’t matter if they were betrayed on purpose or by an accidental slip of the tongue. The outcome would still be the same.

Sabine pushed her way through a hedge, scratched her hand on some brambles. She was quicker following the road home, but she wanted to be out of sight. It was safer to trample along the verge. Her shoes and the hem of her skirt were covered in mud – if she was caught she’d have to come up with something good to explain the state of her clothes. Her back ached and she had blisters on the heels of her feet.

Natalie.

Was she really a traitor? That sweet girl who smelt of vanilla and whispered in Sabine’s ear as she sat outside the café?

A shiver ran down Sabine’s back as she remembered the way Natalie’s breath had tickled her ear, her hair brushing against her face.

- .... . / -.- .. ... ... / -... ..- .-. -. - / .- --. .- .. -. ... - / .... . .-. / -.-. --- .-.. -.. / ... -.- .. -.

Une querelle d’amoureux
.

That day at the café, had she missed anything?

The German soldiers sitting on the opposite side of the square, talking about Natalie. What had they said? If only Sabine’s German was better, she might have picked something up.

Should she have told Alex there were German soldiers sniffing around?

Non
.

Knowing Alex, he’d have suggested Natalie seduce them for secrets then kill them while they slept.

Maybe one of them got fed up looking, wanted more? Flattered her into bed? The German soldiers could offer many things that the men left in France couldn’t.

A young girl, surrounded by old men, young boys, injured
résistants
. Perhaps the attentions of a man in uniform was too much to resist?

Did it mean she would talk?

Perhaps.

If she fell in love.

PM  FC  DO  OA  PF  MU  BJ  BD  JU  PM  FD  BT  AR  UA  FG

ANNIE LE BLANC, THE CANDLE IS LIT.

Sabine felt something tickle her ankles, looked under the table to see Pacha licking her leg.

‘Come on,’ she whispered under the table and patted her lap, ‘up
, lèves-toi.’

THE BIRTHDAY CAKE WAS STALE
.

Pacha stretched, pulled back on his front paws, then sprung up into Sabine’s lap. He settled himself there, purred while Sabine stroked his head and scratched him behind the ears.

THE COW HAS ESCAPED FROM THE NORTH FIELD.

Pacha was warm, she could feel him breathing, his heart beating against the inside of her thigh.

RACHEL TREMBLAY, THE BICYCLE IS CHAINED TO THE GATE.

Sabine stopped petting Pacha, he leapt from her lap and slunk away under the table.

Sabine stumbled over tufts of overgrown grass at the side of the road. Eyes glowed up ahead, then vanished as the rabbits bolted into hiding.

The drop had gone to plan. No ambush. It would have been a perfect opportunity to get them all together.

Unless of course.

They were waiting to get them on their own.

Oh God, she hoped Alex was wrong.

In a group a fight would break out, people would scatter, escape.

If they were targeted individually…

What if they were at home now, waiting for her, tired, unaware, on her own?

Do not return to your quarters if you believe you are in danger.