Wild Lavender (49 page)

The train trip to Marseilles was supposed to be an overnight one, but we had been warned that with all the checks the journey could end up taking two or three days. At each stop, I would have to take the three dogs for a toilet break and Chérie when she needed it too. I could see why Mouse had objected to me bringing the animals, but I had to stand by my decision and find a way to manage. No
wagon compartments had been available but we were content to sleep upright as long as we weren’t disturbed. Madame Goux and Mouse shut the curtains. I posted Bruno near the door to warn us if anybody came inside. Princesse curled herself into my lap while Charlot remained at Roger’s feet. Chérie seemed happy to sleep in her cage on top of the luggage rack.

On a train crowded with Germans, we weren’t going to risk the dining car and my stomach rumbled as I drifted off to sleep to dream of policemen endlessly checking my papers. I must have been asleep for an hour or so when the train slowed down then came to a stop. There were shouts outside; the voices were German. I sat upright. The others did the same. The Judge peered through the curtains. ‘Another check. A German one.’

A few minutes later the conductor knocked on our door. ‘Everybody out. Leave your luggage in the compartment.’

‘Okay,’ Mouse whispered in English, ‘Mademoiselle Fleurier and I will go first with everybody’s papers. The rest of you stick close behind.’

I left Chérie where she was but took the dogs with me.

We stepped out of the carriage and found the platform overrun by German soldiers. Even though we had passed the demarcation line and were supposed to be in Vichy France, it appeared that the Germans were giving the local police some ‘assistance’ in checking travellers’ papers. To my horror, the control desks were divided by language and there was one for Czech citizens. We were done for.

‘Stay with us,’ the Judge whispered to Eduard. ‘Don’t allow yourself to be separated. Whatever happens, keep calm.’

We were directed to a table where an officer sat waiting to check the French first- and second-class passengers. He was the most fastidiously dressed man I had ever seen. His boots glistened under the dim station lights as if he had just painted them. His buckles and buttons sparkled and there was not a crease in his uniform where one shouldn’t be. While his colleagues were also neatly dressed, they looked
wilted by the heat. But this officer was as cleanly shaven and fresh-looking as if he had just started work for the day. He gestured for us to step forward. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure that he would hear it.

‘You are travelling on the train with these dogs?’ he said, in perfect French. ‘It is unhygienic.’

He looked like the kind of man who would call a dog hair on his trousers ‘filthy’.

‘They are clean dogs, I assure you. No fleas or worms,’ I said. On cue, Bruno rested his chin on the table, a string of drool oozing from his jaws. I brushed him away. ‘They are part of my act,’ I said, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. ‘For my upcoming show in Marseilles.’

‘Part of your act?’ The officer watched Charlot relieve himself against a post. ‘I have never seen you perform with animals.’

Jean Renoir had once told me that the best way to calm nerves was to act the opposite to what you are feeling. I did my best to act flattered. ‘You have seen me perform?’ I asked, tossing my head and smiling. ‘Where did you see me?’

‘In Paris in 1930. I saw your show sixteen times.’

‘Well,’ I replied, laughing, ‘I guess that means you liked it.’

‘We are travelling to Marseilles to design a new show for Mademoiselle Fleurier,’ Mouse said, sounding as slick as any Parisian manager. ‘You must come and see her perform there.’

The officer glanced at the two soldiers standing behind him and said to them in German, ‘Can you believe that I have Simone Fleurier standing in front of me? And her manager invited me to her show in Marseilles.’

‘You should search her,’ replied one of them, licking his lips. ‘You can’t let a chance like that go by.’

I felt myself pale. I wasn’t hiding anything on my person that could give the others away, but the thought of being searched by those men was terrifying. Then, an image of my mother flashed into my mind. I saw her staring down
Guillemette in the Parc de Monceau when she had tried to intimidate her. I found myself giving the same look to the officer. He shifted in his seat although he would have assumed that I couldn’t understand German. Nevertheless, he turned to the others and said, ‘I can’t search a French citizen of her standing without good reason. Besides, do you really think a spy would be travelling with such a zoo? I mean, look at them all. Especially that old woman. She has a face like a donkey’s arse.’

The two soldiers laughed and the officer shuffled through our papers. He stamped them and handed them back to me. ‘Till Marseilles then, Mademoiselle Fleurier,’ he said, appraising me with the eyes of a man, not an officer.

I tucked the papers into my handbag and turned back to the carriage, calling the dogs to come too. The men and Madame Goux followed but we said nothing to each other until all the passengers had been checked and reseated. I felt in some way that although we were travelling together, each one of us was making this treacherous journey alone.

By some miracle we arrived in Marseilles on schedule and without further incident. It was strange for me to be back in the city where I had first dreamed of becoming a star. The smell of salt and the screeching seagulls brought back memories of Aunt Augustine’s house. I had travelled a long way since then.

I had reserved a four-bedroomed suite at the Hôtel de Noailles. After the waiter had delivered us a breakfast of omelettes, cheese,
croissants
, melon and champagne, we blocked the air vents and keyhole then toasted the success of the first part of our mission.

‘Here’s to getting out of occupied France,’ said the Judge.

‘I could have done just as well with bacon and eggs,’ said Eduard, eyeing the feast set out before us. ‘But this is splendid.’

It was the first time I had heard him speak and he didn’t sound like a Czech at all. He had a high, lilting voice.

‘You must have been bursting to say something,’ I told him. ‘I don’t think I could have gone that long without saying a word.’

Roger laughed. Even Mouse and the Judge allowed themselves to smile. Madame Goux demanded to know what we were talking about and Mouse translated our conversation for her.

‘I am impressed with your
sang-froid
, Mademoiselle Fleurier,’ said the Judge, buttering a piece of bread. ‘You are a remarkable woman.’

I turned to Mouse, keen to rub in what the officer had said about the animals. ‘Bruno, Princesse, Charlot and Chérie turned out to be an excellent cover story.’

‘All right then,’ chuckled the Judge. ‘We shall toast our animal friends too. But I had no idea that you could speak German. Where did you learn?’

I explained about my time in Berlin and about my lessons there. I had everyone laughing again when I told them about Doctor Daniel, who used to make me jump over chairs and sing high Cs.

‘You must have had some bizarre teachers in your time too,’ Roger said to Eduard.

The Scotsman put down his knife and fork. ‘None to match that one,’ he said. ‘At least with the piano no one expects you to be able to run around and play it at the same time.’

‘I hope I will hear you play before you go,’ I said. ‘I am curious to know how a concert pianist ended up in the RAF.’

‘Ask the Squadron Captain,’ he answered, nodding at Roger. ‘I’m just an officer. He’s the fighting ace. He shot down a number of the Luftwaffe before he got hit himself.’

Roger blushed and, because he was embarrassed, dropped his guard. ‘I flew quite a bit in Tasmania,’ he said. ‘My grandmother told me that my very first word was “airplane”—’

Mouse coughed and we fell into an awkward silence. I realised we weren’t supposed to go that far. It was hard for me to get used to the secrecy. It was still early in the war and our spirits were high. The thought of being thrown into prison and tortured, let alone executed, didn’t seem real. But then, none of us knew anyone who had died that way yet.

‘What is the next step in the plan?’ asked Madame Goux. If Mouse had praised me on my coolness in the face of danger, then she deserved to be complimented too. Madame Goux had shown restraint the whole journey and had played the part of an efficient secretary well.

‘We have a contact in Marseilles,’ Mouse explained. ‘Once we have spoken to him we are going to leave either by sea or cross the Pyrenees into Spain. But I’m afraid I can’t tell you which one.’

The sea would be easier than the Pyrenees, which were rugged mountains and difficult to cross. Roger, Eduard and Mouse looked fit enough to make it, but I worried about the Judge.

‘Please, gentlemen, eat up and rest well while you are here,’ I told them. ‘I will spare no expense for you. You must be strong for your escape.’

Roger lifted his champagne glass. ‘I should like to propose a toast to Mademoiselle Fleurier,’ he said. ‘For being a good sport.’

I saw that Roger had the kind of energy that I had admired in André. When a job needed to be done, he was a machine, but in personal moments, he was soft.

The others held up their glasses and gave me a cheer.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I have known you all only a short time and I don’t even know who some of you are, but I think that I shall miss you.’

I looked up, directly into Roger’s eyes. He held my gaze for a moment before turning away. He was smiling.

The Judge stressed the importance of maintaining our cover stories to avoid suspicion. While he and Roger went about finding their ‘contact’—which I had gleaned enough to guess was actually two people, someone high up in the French navy and an Allied soldier who had escaped from Fort Saint Jean—the rest of us were to keep up appearances. I had a piano installed in the suite for Eduard to play, which also gave us an excuse to leave the ‘Do not disturb’ sign on the door.

Meanwhile, Mouse and I went to see the artistic director of the Alcazar. ‘Mademoiselle Fleurier, we have been trying to get you to perform here for years!’ Franck Esposito exclaimed. ‘And now you have come to us!’

As it turned out, Raimu was about to perform a show with the theatre but they were interested in having me do a few guest shows and spoke about putting together a special production for the next season. To my surprise, despite the war and his lack of experience, Mouse managed to negotiate a good contract for me.

Whenever we could, our party ate together in fine restaurants along the Canebière so as not to draw attention to ourselves by always hiding away in our suite. Marseilles had been bombed by the Italians but apart from that, the war and the Germans seemed far away. Something about the toughness of the Marseillaises told me they would put up more of a fight than the northerners had. One evening, a Spanish woman came into the restaurant to sell bunches of lavender. She looked so much like my mother that I was taken aback. I am homesick, I thought. With all the upheaval and fear, I longed to be with my family. But for the past few weeks I had put my country first. Had they known, my family would have implored me to do just that; but they didn’t know where I was or what I was doing and it pained me to think I was causing them worry.

A week later, when we were gathered in the hotel suite, the Judge announced that Mouse, Eduard and himself were leaving that night on the train for Toulouse.

‘What about Roger?’ Madame Goux asked.

‘He is staying,’ said the Judge.

My heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Roger. I had no idea who he really was, but being near him had become important to me.

‘What for?’ asked Madame Goux.

‘There are hundreds of downed airmen in France,’ said Roger, standing up and moving to the window. ‘There are also escaped prisoners of war trying to make their way south on their own. Many are being recaptured. It’s a waste of skilled men for the Allies. My contact is setting up a series of safe houses from Paris all the way south to get the men to the Pyrenees. But he needs help and people he can trust. I’m going to stay in France to assist with the network.’

I was in awe of Roger’s bravery. There was so much self-seeking cowardice amongst the French and here was a foreigner prepared to risk his life to fight the enemy.

‘I want to help,’ I told him, ‘in any way I can.’

‘Me too,’ said Madame Goux.

Roger’s face lit up. ‘Neither of you can imagine how valuable you are to the Resistance. But I’m afraid to ask any more of you ladies than you’ve already done.’

‘Ask,’ I urged him. ‘What could be more important right now than saving France?’

Roger sat down next to me. ‘The apartment in Paris—can we use it?’

‘Of course,’ I told him. ‘I also have a house in Marseilles that I inherited. It is down in the Vieux Port. It is nothing grand but it has been done up inside and isn’t in any way conspicuous.’

Roger clapped his hands. ‘You speak German and English, and you have a house in Marseilles! What a find for the Resistance!’

He turned to Madame Goux. ‘I am also impressed with you, Madame. I’d like to get you back to Paris so that you can keep watch over the building. We’ll leave for Paris tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow!’ I cried. I thought of my plan to visit my family once the escape party had left. I was anxious to find out whether Minot and Madame Ibert had arrived safely, and also whether Odette and her family were there. I explained my situation to Roger, who was enthused by the news.

‘So you don’t just rescue abandoned animals, Mademoiselle Fleurier,’ he said. ‘You’re already practised in rescuing and hiding people!’

My face burned. Why was it that every compliment he gave me made me feel like a little girl? A Frenchman could never do that.

‘Where is Sault?’ he asked, unfolding his map of France. ‘How do you get there?’

I showed him the train line to Avignon. Although the journey was about six hours with all the connections, he was excited. ‘Would your family be willing to hide Allied servicemen? It’s a secluded location if ever we need to wait things out.’