At this they both laughed, but Yvette knew that despite her jokes, Estelle had wanted badly to succeed, to prove she could do it, they both had. ‘Do you regret it? You know, doing what we do.’
‘No, not for one second.’ Estelle’s voice sounded resolute. ‘Dear Lord, can you imagine what it would have been like at home with mother? Rolling bandages in the village hall and being paired off with every suitable captain or officer of high rank that came home on leave. I only just survived the season in London and coming out, the war rescued me from one fate so I owe it a debt of gratitude, even if it might end in tears, or worse.’
‘Is that what you’re scared of, it ending in tears?’
Estelle nodded. ‘Yes. The idea of facing a firing squad I have somehow managed to accept, or perhaps come to terms with by telling myself it will be quick. It’s what comes before that haunts me; the torture, and worse, I suppose, not being able to hold out. They say if you can hang on for two days they give up, then that’s it. The wall or a camp. I think I’d prefer the wall.’
Hearing Estelle speak like this, so unlike the gung-ho attitude she was known for, rattled Yvette, but if there was ever a time for truth, it was today. ‘If it’s any consolation I have the same fears, have considered the same fate, but you never know, that could be what keeps us alive. Once we realise we’re not in a school play, the fear kicks in and the adrenalin spurs us on, making us more alert and effective. We should harness it and use it to our advantage, not allow it to eat us alive. What do you say?’
Estelle began to laugh, then cupped Yvette’s face in her hands and planted a kiss on her nose. ‘Oh, you are a tonic, Dottie Doolittle, and I love you for it, I really do. In fact, you’ve given me an idea.’
‘Oh no, why does that worry me slightly?’ Yvette’s heart had lifted simply because Estelle’s mood had done the same.
Estelle tutted. ‘If ever I am questioned by the Boche I’m going to give them all the names they desire, each and every one of my monstrous school-teachers, one by one. That should keep them occupied.’
Yvette brightened. ‘And I’ll work my way through the offices in Whitehall and start with all the really snooty miserable ones, I’ll even give them descriptions. Send the Boche off on a wild goose chase.’
They both sniggered like schoolchildren and then Estelle brought them back to real life.
‘But promise me you will be careful, darling. Use up all that adrenalin to stay safe because the Boche are getting twitchy now. Word has it that they are taking heavy losses and something big is planned on the Atlantic Wall, this is why we need to disrupt the troop movements and anything that the Nazis send that way.’
‘I promise but I’m always careful, Estelle. Or is there something you’re not telling me?’
Estelle twisted her fingers around Yvette’s. ‘No, it’s nothing, just a feeling I can’t shake, like something is creeping up on us, or we’re running out of luck.’
‘You told me you don’t believe in luck so there has to be more to it, come on, tell.’
‘I heard something that’s all. I don’t want to rattle you. We have enough to think about without rumours.’
Yvette gave Estelle a look that told her to get on with it. ‘One of the girls in the brothel told me that she was entertaining a group of Gestapo officers and they were bragging about bringing the Maquis to heel. She said they didn’t give away anything specific, but they sounded confident, as though they knew something.’
Despite the grip of dread that squeezed her heart, Yvette refused to give in to it. ‘They will have been drunk and showing off and more than likely saying it on purpose, planting the seed and hoping the rumour would spread. The SS are evil and insidious, we know this and it’s precisely the type of thing they’d do, propaganda, that’s all.’
A loud persistent knocking at the door made both of them jump, and Estelle placed a finger over her lips before sliding off the bed and picking up Yvette’s coat and dress along with two more that were draped over the armchair. Listening as she chatted and thanked the laundry woman, Yvette exhaled but remained hidden from view.
When Estelle returned Yvette sensed she wanted to forget about their conversation. ‘Now that’s taken care of what shall we do? I still haven’t done your hair so let’s start there and then we’ll decide, but maybe we shouldn’t stray too far tonight. I know a nice little bar that’s not frequented by the Boche, we could go there and pick up some bread on the way home, to go with the rillette, does that sound okay to you?’
She was rifling through her drawer, pulling out combs and hairpins but Yvette was still curious. ‘Why shouldn’t we stray too far, is something wrong? You were going to show me the sights, remember.’
‘Yes, yes I will, but tomorrow, when we can take a stroll along the river and not frequent places where the night monsters prowl. I’m not in the mood for making small talk with the enemy tonight and I’d rather them not see us together. They’ll only ask questions and I don’t want to put you in danger. If there is any chance they are onto me, we mustn’t lead them to you and the circuit. Now come along, Miss Fifty Questions, get a wiggle on.’
Yvette knew her friend was speaking sense, but she couldn’t shake off that feeling she was hiding something, not in a bad way, more shielding her from the unsavoury world beyond the apartment. Reminding herself that she was only allowed to stay for two nights, Yvette shuffled off the bed, determined not to allow the shadow of the night monsters to ruin her time with Estelle.
It had been the most wonderful two days that flew past. They made the most of every single second, getting outrageously drunk, hardly sleeping, dancing to the same songs over and over, laughing until they cried, sharing secrets that wouldn’t have them tortured and when they gave in to exhaustion, clung on tight to each other beneath the eiderdown.
They had walked along the banks of the Loire River and enjoyed the fresh air, but little else, because Yvette found the sheer number of grey uniforms overwhelming and unsettling. They’d taken fake coffee in the same café where they’d lingered on the first night, before scurrying back to the apartment. Yvette had agreed that it was best to keep a low profile and, after all, they had so much to catch up on all they needed was each other, not the threat of prying eyes, even if it was their imagination, or a whiff of tension in the air.
Inside the apartment, Estelle had reverted to the vivacious and effervescent young woman who’d brightened everyone’s Highland days and chivvied Yvette through the toughest tasks and homesickness. But even though she admired her dear friend’s ability to act the part, she saw beneath the mask. It was killing them both, the imminent departure and inevitable goodbye.
It was with the heaviest of hearts that Yvette put on her shoes and the clean dress that had been returned that morning, the coat was not included in the neat pile that was passed through the door. When she emerged from the bathroom, she found Estelle fussing and folding clothes, keeping busy.
‘Ah, there you are. Now, I want you to take these back with you, a few rather lovely bits and bobs to make you feel human again. And you can get dolled up for Vincent; he won’t know what’s hit him. I don’t know what they wear out there in the sticks but if it’s anything like that dreadful coat I really do fear for your sanity and sex life.’
Yvette laughed and made her way over to the bed, then touched the soft cotton of the pale-blue dress Estelle had been wearing the day Yvette had arrived and another, speckled with tiny polka dots. There was a skirt too in a soft lemon.
‘They’ll be far too long but you’re a clever thing so you can take them up and here, have this lipstick and rouge, there’s almost all the powder in the compact, I noticed yours had gone. What about some scent too, here take this.’ She placed a small glass bottle in Yvette’s hand, not catching her eye as she continued. ‘Come along. Let’s pack them away and I’ll walk you to the station.’ She maintained the mother hen routine, too bright, too cheerful.
Yvette let her have her way but not about the make-up. ‘I can’t take this. I know how hard it is to come by and you have more need of it than I do, so please, keep it.’
