“Why don’t you and your little one go have a nap,” Madeleine tells me once the meal is finished. “You two have a long night ahead of you.”
“Thank you.” I carry Anna to the bedroom and settle her in the drawer on the floor that Madeleine has transformed into a cot.
After a few minutes, I begin to drift off to sleep, but part of me is ever conscious of the dangers that still exist. If the Nazis have pieced together the role Madeleine plays in the resistance, they could descend on the farm at any moment. Or the plane could fly past without landing. Or it could crash with Anna and me in it. So many things could go wrong.
* * *
I gasp awake from a nightmare.My heart pounds in my chest and my body is damp with sweat. The remnants of the dream slip between my fingers, the ghost of an image I cannot fully grasp. But it’s enough for me to remember the dream was about Johann. It takes several seconds before I recall where I am and why I am here.
I am safe. For now.
I breathe through the grief like I’ve been doing since Johann’s death four weeks ago. It’s only then I realize my face is wet with tears.
I unfasten the pendant from my neck and clasp it in my hand. I conjure up the memory of when he gave it to me, bringing with it a fresh bout of tears. But I would rather cry than try to forget the man I love, the man whom I know without a doubt was my soul mate.
Anna stirs from her nap. I refasten the chain around my neck and pick her up from the drawer.
The next few hours are spent waiting and praying the plane will not only show up, but it will also land. This could be Anna’s and my last opportunity to escape France until after the war ends. We have no idea when that might be.
D-Day is coming. The day Baker Street has been gearing up for all this time. It’s supposed to be enough to turn the tides of the war, but we don’t know how long it will take before the Germans and Hitler admit defeat. A week? A month? Six months? A year?
Anna falls asleep again. I wake her shortly after midnight, and she drowsily nurses. I change her nappy and bundle her in her blanket. She drifts back to sleep, dry and with a full tummy. If I’m lucky, she will remain asleep for the rest of the night.
Lise gathers the supplies she needs for the reception party. I thank Madeleine for her kindness.
“Good luck to you both.” She kisses me on the cheek and plants a soft kiss on Anna’s brow. “I pray the next time I see you and your daughter, it will be under happier circumstances.”
I smile. “I pray that will be the case too.”
Lise and I step outside and slip into the night, guided by the light of the full moon.
The other members of the reception party are waiting for us when we arrive. They seem slightly taken aback by the sleeping baby in my arms but don’t say anything or flash me disparaging looks. Everyone gets into position and the next waiting game begins.
Our ears are tuned to the sky, listening for the familiar drone of an approaching plane.
Please come. Please come. Please come.
As if God is granting my silent prayer, the faint drone of the Lysander reaches us from above the tree line. The reception party lights their beacons, signalling to the pilot it’s safe to land and lighting up the landing strip. My rapid heartbeat is so loud in my ears, it’s a miracle I can make out the steady vibration of the plane’s engines.
I’m practically holding my breath as the pilot lands the silver plane on the stretch of field. I glance towards the road. No sign of the enemy.
As soon as the plane comes to a standstill, its propellers spinning, I lurch forward with Anna in my arms. My body is trembling, but I get it to move in the direction I need to go without too much effort.
Two female SOE agents are climbing out of the plane as I approach.
I kiss Lise goodbye on the cheeks. “Thank you for everything you have done for me and Anna.”
“You’re welcome.” She hugs me tightly. “I’m going to miss you both. I’ll see you on the other side of the war. Stay safe.” She kisses Anna on her brow.
“You too,” I say, reining back a torrent of emotions at leaving this place and the woman who has become a dear friend.
Then, without another word, I haul Anna and myself into the plane.
“Is that really a baby in her arms?” one agent asks Lise in French as I climb the steps. The shock in her tone almost has me smiling.
I sit on the seat behind the pilot, buckle the seat belt, and hold Anna close to my heart. “Alright, my love,” I tell her in English. “Let’s go home.”
The time between the Lysander landing and taking off is barely more than a few minutes.
