Section I, Next Section
Author's Note: Dedicated to the memory of Violette Szabo-in the month of the 57th anniversary of her first mission; and also the month of the 55th anniversary of the discovery Britain made of the tragic end to her quiet but valuable contribution-and based loosely on her story; lest we forget. What a woman.
"Oh, Lizzy, thank goodness you're finally home!"
Elizabeth ran into the arms of her elder sister, hugging her tightly. "Really, Jane, it can't have been that bad without me?"
"You simply can't imagine how worried I've been," Jane exclaimed. "Knowing that you - but I'm being selfish," she went on hastily when she caught Elizabeth's guilt-ridden expression. "How are you? Do come in - Charles will take your things."
Her fiancé stepped forward and took her bags, kissing her quickly on the cheek. "What a delight it is to have you home again, Lizzy; I trust you're quite well?"
"I'm better than you think - Jane, I met the most handsome man there. His name is - now don't laugh - his name is Fitzwilliam Darcy."
"Why would I laugh at that? I think it's a perfectly charming name - so quaint and old-fashioned." Jane found that her sister was looking at her with a knowing smile, and, feeling her own lips twitching, hurriedly continued: "But do tell me a little more about him, Lizzy - it's not often you meet a man who actually pleases you."
"I must meet the rest of my family first. Where's my papa? Not here to wish his daughter a welcome home?"
Jane's face became serious again. "Papa is - gone out."
"Where?" No answer. "Jane, where is he gone?" Elizabeth repeated as her sister looked away uneasily.
"He is - at the pensions office," Jane admitted at length.
Elizabeth understood her embarrassment - their family was not a rich one - far from it - but Elizabeth had refused the proposals of a man rich enough to put all their money worries far away. "How is Mamma?" she asked softly.
"Still angry that you are going away on these missions - "
"They can hardly be called missions, Jane," Elizabeth reminded her urgently: "carting a few loads of soup around for our brave boys at the front."
"Of course," agreed Jane, flushing, as she remembered that they were not alone; "but what I mean is that she is angry that you don't get a job at home instead."
"We must all do our bit for the war," announced her sister decidedly, as she hung her coat and scarf on the rack - "even if it is as humble a past as the one as I play."
"Dear Lizzy," murmured Jane admiringly, as she pulled her into another tight embrace. "Do come and have a seat and a cup of tea and some chocolate- Charles, would you be so good as to take those to Lizzy's room?"
Elizabeth's eyes glinted as she stared at Jane. "Real chocolate?"
"Things aren't that bad here, you know."
"Jane, where did you get it?" Elizabeth asked sternly in a low voice.
"I didn't - Lydia and Kitty did. They sent it up from Longbourn. Isn't that sweet of them?"
Elizabeth had her reservations about that - if they had got the chocolate honourably and sent it to their family in London, she knew that it could only be described as their first unselfish act in the course of their lives. Always more slanted to the suspicious side of a woman, their elder sister suspected that they had purchased the chocolate in a less than honourable way, and had been forced to get rid of it in a hurry.
"I shan't have any," she declared firmly. "Mamma, here is your Lizzy returned to you once more. How are you, mamma?"
"Oh, just as I always was - and ever shall be, now that you have been the cause of even more sorrow to our family. I haven't had a new dress all year, and there's no proper fish to be had - only these horrid things the government come up with. I declare, in peacetime I would never have eaten whale, and I shan't now."
"We must all do our bit, mamma," her daughter reminded her, kissing her cheek dutifully.
"You would say that - you who have gone off altogether to another part of the country, with no pay, to put food into other people's mouths while your family sits at home and starves."
"You're lucky to be 'sitting at home': I've seen things you can't possibly imagine. And that's what happens to our poor men gone to the front, while you sit at home in front of the fire with your chocolate complaining about the abundance of food you eat." Elizabeth always became passionate about the subject she most loved: that of the relative comfort of their family compared with the pain and agony that some people were suffering every day. "You ought to be thankful that papa is too old, and that we haven't any brothers to go to the front. Most every other family in England has had to let their menfolk go off like that - and many of those will not be coming back," she finished gravely with her head bent low.
"Exactly!" exclaimed her mother. "If all the men are gone, who's going to marry all of you? Jane has been fortunate in finding someone who hasn't had to go and help with the war effort, but the rest of you...I don't know what's to become of you, I really don't."
"No need to worry about Lizzy, mamma - she's found a nice young man where she works, haven't you Lizzy?" teased Jane.
Elizabeth shot her a dark look and replied: "Where's that tea you promised?"
"I'll just put the kettle on." And Jane hurried out of the room, her shoulders shaking slightly as Mrs. Bennet sat up straight in her chair and began to ask Elizabeth about her admirer.
"He isn't my admirer - rather, I am his. Don't let's talk about it any more." Elizabeth sat back in complete silence, remembering Mr. Collins' words: never answer any questions, and don't tell anybody anything - not even your family. She smiled as she thought of the urgent tone in his voice and wondered at Mr. Collins being a member of the SOE - the Special Operations Executive. It was a very clever disguise, and her respect for him had shot up when he had called her into the confessional that day and described to her the details of his plans for her. She had since learnt to admire him, and was very aware of what she had lost in refusing her old admirer - but though there was romance in his double-life, she knew that she could never really love him, and that took the sting out of her jealousy of Charlotte for being the wife of such a man.
Still - Mr. Collins, secret agent. Who'd have thought it?
(Only Lise! *grin*)
"How's Mary?" she asked to break the silence as her mother sat opposite her fuming.
"She's very well," Mrs. Bennet snapped. "Still working at the library for that inconsequential pay, but it keeps the family going." She glared at her daughter in triumph of her own wit, but Elizabeth didn't seem to have understood it. "How long will you be staying? - You realise that as long as you're here, you're just another mouth to feed, when you don't bring in any money."
"I know - and I don't know how long I'll be here. There are a lot of people to work for them, and they don't want all of us all the time. So I'll get a job and stay here and keep it for as long as I can. - That is, unless you want me to take myself - and my earnings - somewhere else?"
"No, no, you must stay here, my love. Where is Jane with that tea?"
"I was just answering the door. There's a gentleman to see you, Lizzy - a Mr. Darcy." Jane brought in the tall, handsome man with a worried smile at her sister.
"Darcy!" Elizabeth jumped up and greeted him. "As good as it is to see you, you know you oughtn't to have come here."
"I wanted to," he announced stiffly. "How are you, Elizabeth?"
"Exactly as I was when we left yesterday, thank you," she said, her tone softening a little: she knew how strongly he believed in sticking to the rules, but he had blatantly broken one by coming to see her like this. It was very flattering, and she couldn't help a little blush.
Mrs. Bennet spotted the pretty redness in her daughter's cheeks and immediately made Mr. Darcy very welcome, fawning over him in a manner that humiliated Elizabeth, particularly when she saw that he was displeased with her mother's antics.
"How good of you to come and visit us, Mr. Darcy! Are you in the same line of work as my dear Lizzy?"
"Yes, we - "
"Oh, how nice. Lizzy has already told me all about you - well, she mentioned one or two little things - but I wouldn't want to embarrass her forgiving anything away. Lizzy, you may be quite sure that your little secret is safe with me - I shall never let dear Mr. Darcy know. And where do you live, Mr. Darcy?"
"Derbyshire - "
"I have never been to Derbyshire - but I daresay it's a very pleasant area."
"The pleasantest. My house - "
"You own a house in Derbyshire? How I should love to have a house of my own! But recent financial difficulties have meant that Mr. Bennet had to sell our country house Hertfordshire and move here to this little - this little - place." Mrs. Bennet chuckled nervously. "Our house was called Longbourn - our two youngest daughters are there now, in accordance with the evacuation rules. Kitty is 17, and Lydia 15."
"Your eldest is rather old to be evacuated, surely?"
"My daughter Kitty is in - a delicate condition," she announced awkwardly.
Darcy started. "And she is rather too young to be married!" he exclaimed.
"Err - yes, of course. That is why it is so fortunate that she is - not married."
"How long do you intend to stay in London, Darcy?" Elizabeth interjected, turning her face away from him in mortification and praying that her mother would contribute no more to the conversation.
"As long as I am wanted," he announced with a hint of a smile. "My sister is here and I passed through on my way back to Derbyshire. However, she has decided that she wants to stay for just another day or so - shopping, or something. Women."
This was a little more like the Darcy she knew of old! - Elizabeth had seen him shrink up and say but little with pain, but here he was opening out again. She smiled and retaliated: "I wish you'd introduce me - she sounds like my kind of sister. There's nothing I love more than shopping."
"Shopping is always fun, but present circumstances have, of course, led to difficulties," agreed Jane sadly. "The rationing is so hard now. Charles had to pay 16 tokens for a new jacket the other day."
"What sort of a new jacket?" asked Elizabeth teasingly.
"It was quite nice - a dark tweed. Why?"
Elizabeth sighed. "Aren't you ever going to name a date, Jane?"
Her sister blushed. "Well - what with the war and everything - we weren't sure - "
"Nonsense, Jane. It's got to be done. Charles, when are you going to make that daughter of mine a respectable woman?" called Mrs. Bennet to her prospective son-in-law. "Not that she isn't respectable already, you understand, Mr. Darcy," she added hastily.
"As respectable, I imagine, as the rest of her sisters," Darcy commented dryly, regarding a wall with disgust. Elizabeth stood up quickly, irritated by this reference to Kitty's condition.
"Thank you, Darcy, for giving up your time so heroically to visit us. Please feel free to drop in at any time when none of us are home. Goodbye." She took hold of his arm and led him to the front door. "You needn't worry about our Kitty - she's quite happy down in Longbourn with her sister and our friends who bought the house. She is not the first of her kind, Darcy, and I doubt very much that she will be the last."
"If I've done anything to offend you - "
Elizabeth pushed him out of the house and slammed the door shut on his irritated expression, and went back to join her family.
That night, as Elizabeth prepared for bed, Jane came in with a blanket wrapped around her. "May I ask a humble question?" begged Elizabeth, eyeing it in confusion.
"My nightdress is see-through, and a new one would cost six tokens," Jane explained sadly. "I have to wear this when I walk around at night. It wouldn't be decent."
"Oh, Jane, don't I admire the way you can make such sacrifices?"
"Don't I admire the way you can make such sacrifices? I don't know if I could bear to have everyone against me if I were risking everything, the way you are."
"I'm not risking everything, Jane. I've only been in training since I went away. Oh - and you've already made me confess more than I ought! I never could keep anything from you."
"Don't tell me any more."
"I want to so much - "
"I know," Jane told her gently, taking her hand and sitting on the bed beside her; "but you mustn't. You made that quite clear when I guessed. I'm sorry I let slip about the missions earlier on, when Charles was there - "
"Think nothing of it - I know he will."
"Yes - he's the very soul of discretion. I'm so lucky," sighed Jane.
"No more than he is for having you - and no more than I. You have been a better sister than anyone could ever know. You've been so sweet, sending me all those letters when I barely ever answered them, and could never write anything when I did."
"It was enough to know that you had something from home to read. But it can't be as bad as all that - after all, you can talk to Darcy about it, can't you?"
Elizabeth's face fell. "Apparently not. He was so sweet at camp - witty, charming, and very flattering. But yesterday - it was like another person."
"Don't worry, Lizzy: he's just shy."
"'Shy'? He was plain rude - you must have seen that."
"Perhaps; but you should give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he came to see you when he knew he oughtn't to. He must quite like you."
"Yes." Elizabeth smiled dreamily. "Isn't he handsome, Jane? I was so sweet on him when I first saw him - I even gave him my address, which we aren't supposed to do. Terribly unprofessional. And he took it - which is even more surprising. He's awfully good with the rules - and so clever about hiding things. I'm afraid that they'll want him so often that I'll never get a chance to see him again - and, of course, there's the danger that - well, it's a dangerous job, is all."
"Oh, Lizzy, don't," pleaded Jane; "you know I hate thinking about it, when you'll be chosen soon enough."
"If I am, then I'll do as I'm told," Elizabeth announced bravely; "I owe that much to my country, and to - umm - the man I work for. Mentioning no names - you understand, Jane."
"Of course. I'd better go to bed now before you let anything else out - you're so tired after your journey, you don't know what you're saying. By the way - papa isn't home yet."
"I see. No prizes for guessing where he's gone. Does he still - have the old trouble?"
"More than ever," Jane admitted sadly. "Good night, Lizzy - it's so wonderful to have you home again." She kissed her sister quickly and scurried away. Elizabeth blew out the candle and slowly began to dress for bed.
Elizabeth woke up later that night with a strong hunger, and she thought wistfully of the chocolate that she had refused earlier on. 'Perhaps no one would notice if I just had a little bit,' she though guiltily as she stole downstairs. As she reached the bottom of the stairs she saw that the light was on in the sitting room and rushed in to turn it off, hearing the monotonous drone of the aeroplanes overheard and fearing that someone had left it on thoughtlessly. As she entered the room, though, she saw that her father sat there smoking listlessly. The blackout curtains were drawn, so that was alright, but she urged him to put the light out anyway.
Mr. Bennet glanced up at her, and she saw with pain that his pupils were dilated and his face flushed. "So you're back, are you?"
"As you see."
"Always the little heroine, giving us all advice on how to win the war in our own homes. If you're not careful, one day you'll turn around and spy your face on a wall somewhere, issued as a government warning to all the naughty people. I bet you'd like that."
Elizabeth had never been sure whether or not her father suspected her of being a member of the SOE, but his emphasis on the word "spy" seemed to suggest that he did, and she couldn't help a slight blush. "I'm sorry you think so."
"Why didn't you write more? Jane was worried sick about you."
"It wasn't allowed - waste of paper and ink, and all that. I've already spoken to her about it, and she's forgiven me. Won't you?"
"I would much rather you wrote more and came home less - and said more in the letters that you do write. 'Dear Jane. Haven't much time - all is well - write soon. Lizzy.' I don't call that a letter from a sister."
"What do you call it?"
"A waste of my time and money. I pay for your clothes and food and the travel expenses - Scotland is a long way, you know."
"We must all do our bit," Elizabeth announced again with a firm voice. "If any one British person gives up, then we may as well hand to whole world over to the Germans on a silver platter."
"You really value your work that much? - You really think that you make that much of a difference by driving vans and spoon-feeding soldiers soup? Is that why you joined the RAF?"
"Women aren't allowed to do any more than that - men are."
"Are you implying anything, Elizabeth?"
"I am implying that it's all very well for these people who sit about smoking and drinking to say 'what are you doing for the war effort that's so great?,' but I'd like to turn the tables and ask them what they're doing that's so great?"
"I am saving my family's money, that's what I'm doing," roared Mr. Bennet in a fury. "You, child, are growing too troublesome. I ask you once again: why do you earn my mistrust like this? Why don't you just tell me what it is that you spend so much time doing?"
"If I have earned your mistrust, it is by no action of mine; I have done all I can to make our relationship as happy as it once was. I can tell you no more than what I always do: that I work in the Women's Royal Air Force, and that I cook for them and drive them about an act as clerk - "
"Yes, yes, we've heard all about your precious sacrifices in the name of all that is good and self-righteous," grumbled her father angrily. "But I don't believe that you can possibly spend so much time driving around vans and writing other people's letters - and if you do, then I cannot credit it with as much self-sacrifice as you would have us believe you make."
"I can do no more than I am permitted," she snapped, hating the tears that welled up inside her and stabbed at her eyes; "I am a woman. I can't go and join the battle myself. But I do my best to make sure that you are not forced to speak German and be exterminated for your race or parentage. If you don't like my efforts, then I can only apologise for something that I cannot make any different: I have not changed. Look at yourself - it is you who have changed. You didn't start to drink like this until after we lost Longbourn - "
"Yes, and why did we lose Longbourn? Because you couldn't bear to be married to a man who was stout and stupid."
"I cannot regret that. I am not a horse to be sold in matrimony to the highest bidder - and you cannot blame me for the weakness that you have for alcohol. Excuse me." Elizabeth ran out, up the stairs to her bedroom, where she collapsed onto the bed with heavy sobs. She had never been so heartbroken.
"Lizzy, you're pale. Didn't you sleep well last night?"
Elizabeth sat beside Jane with as warm a smile as she could muster. "Good morning. Not really, Jane - it was strange being in London again. The noise of the aeroplanes kept me awake." She did not mention that she had been unable to hear them under the sound of her own distress. "Pass the butter, Mary, please."
"Oh! Those pilots have no compassion on my poor nerves!" exclaimed Mrs. Bennet with a kind of a sob. Elizabeth found herself unconsciously looking at her father, expecting him to make some kind of witty response at his wife's displeasure - but, of course, he had not done that for a long time.
He met her gaze coldly, and asked her whether she had any intention of getting a job while she was staying with them.
"Yes; I was going to go into town this morning and try and find one. Can I get anything for anyone?"
"I don't think we need anything at present, thank you, Lizzy," murmured Jane, who had taken charge of the house-keeping after her father's "illness" began about a year ago.
"Nonsense, Jane! Lizzy, my dear, we'll need a nice bit of steak, I think - "
"Steak? Good heavens! Did the rationing end in the night, mamma? Where are you planning to get a steak?"
"You sometimes get nice bits going - there's a gentleman who sells them..." Mrs. Bennet's voice trailed off under her daughter's sharp stare.
"You buy it on the black market," Elizabeth realised. "Mamma, how could you? That's no less than a sin, I swear, and at the very least it's illegal."
"Everyone does it - "
"I don't," Elizabeth declared firmly. "Do you want anything legal from town, mamma?"
Mrs. Bennet returned to her breakfast sulkily.
"Right then. Anyone else?"
"I think we're all set, thank you, Lizzy. I'll walk in with you - I've got to get to work. Come on, Mary."
The three girls stood and left immediately; and as they walked, Elizabeth realised with pleasure that Mary seemed to be talking a lot about a certain man who worked at the library. When Mary left them, Jane informed Elizabeth that he often walked Mary home, and that he had occasionally called at the house itself and made himself acquainted with her family. "Wouldn't it be nice to get rid of another sister, Jane?" Elizabeth laughed. "You've already got rid of Kitty and Lydia by sending them to Longbourn; and you get rid of me by sending me away - and now you're getting Mary married off."
Jane paled. "Don't even joke about it, Lizzy - I can't bear the thought of you going away again - this time - "
"You sweet, darling creature! I shan't be going away for a long time. Make no mistake, I've got my claws in London now."
"This is the shop where I work. Good luck finding a job." Jane squeezed her sister's hand, and then went into a large jewellery shop, glancing at her watch. Elizabeth walked on, making for a little perfumery with whose proprietor she was acquainted. Her thoughts were far away from that little shop - rather, they were on Darcy, and she was thinking again about his altered behaviour with disappointment; and as a result, she didn't see the man walking towards her until she had bumped into him.
"Oh - I'm so sorry, sir," she murmured, blushing.
"Come now, Elizabeth - I may have been in the business longer than you, but there's no need for you to call me sir."
Elizabeth looked up to find Darcy, grinning at her, helping her up from the pavement where she had fallen. "Darcy, you absolute terror. Why did you walk into me?"
"Why weren't you watching where you were going?"
"I was thinking."
"Negative thoughts, I'd imagine, from the little frown on your pretty face." He traced the lines on her brow with a frown of his own. "It's very unbecoming, and certainly doesn't belong on your face. Goodness, you're pale. I didn't give you that much of a fright, did I?"
"Don't flatter yourself - I'm rather tired, and I've had a bit of an argument with my father about my going away so often."
Darcy's expression became very serious. "I suppose he wants you to say at home from now on."
"Yes; and as there's very little danger of his wishes not being complied with, he'll get happier as time goes on."
Darcy sighed, and beckoned to a bench. "Sit down, Elizabeth - I've something to tell you that you won't want to hear. You've been assigned to a - excuse me, this is perhaps not the best place to arrange such matters. Is there anywhere we can go that's private?"
"Come on." She took his hand and led him away, her heart falling as she realised that her flattery at his breaking the rules in coming to see her was completely pushed aside by this new development. "I know the perfect place. So did you not come into London to see your sister?"
"Do I have a sister?"
"So you said, yesterday. Don't confuse matters, Darcy, I'm confused enough as it is."
He smiled. "Yes, I have a sister; and no, I didn't come to London to take her home. I followed you - not on personal matters, but on official business. I suppose you can guess what I have to tell you."
"I think I can." They arrived at the local public air-raid shelter, and she led him in. "No one will be here now. We can talk freely, if quietly." She took a deep breath. "You were saying that I've been assigned to a...?"
"A mission in France. Should you choose to accept, you'll come with me to Rouen, where I'll need you to check out how many members of my Resistance ring are still operating."
"'Your' Resistance ring?"
"Yes; I told you I'd been in this business longer than you. I formed it. There were 98 men and women before, but since the Germans took hold of Rouen, there have been huge sweeps to get rid of my agents. Collins and I agree that we have to check, but I'm too notorious there - my face is on every wall."
"Bet you enjoy that," Elizabeth commented.
"You love to hurt me, Miss Bennet," he exclaimed in a tragic manner, clutching his heart and wiping away a tear.
"You love to act, Mr. Darcy. You ought to have been on a stage."
"Rouen has been my stage - and it'll be yours, if you'll just see that you're the only person who can do this job. We need you because you're such a linguist, and because they won't suspect a woman - particularly not such a pretty one."
"So I'll just go in, find out how many there are left, and then...?"
"Rendezvous with me in Paris one week later."
"That doesn't sound so dangerous."
"Don't be fooled into coming, Elizabeth - I won't allow that. The place will be crawling with German soldiers, and we have our reservations about one or two of the agents. And I won't be there in Rouen to help you - you'll be on your own."
Elizabeth nodded. "I understand. I'll do it."
"You're sure?"
She nodded again.
"Good. I thought you would. I'm so proud of you!" He drew her into a warm embrace, and Elizabeth entered it willingly, all thoughts of berating him for his earlier behaviour disappeared in a wispy haze of fear and determination. The time was here. She was finally going to do her bit for the country. She was only going to get one shot at it - after that, they wouldn't use her again - and she was going to do her damn best, if she possible could.
"We'll meet with Collins twelve o'clock sharp in the church. Don't be late, or I'll shoot you."
"Don't even try it, mister - I'm a crack-shot with a rifle. Won't you escort me home? I have to prepare my family for the terrible news that they're getting rid of me again. Honestly, you'd think they'd be happy - after all, weren't you delighted when I finally left Scotland?"
"On the contrary - I...was rather hoping you'd want to walk around until then, get something to eat perhaps: we'll be in there for quite some time, organising everything. In a week's time, if all goes well, we'll be two completely different people, alone in France. You in Rouen, me just outside. Make the most of merry old England now."
"That sounds so horribly morbid. Don't you expect me to come back?"
"Of course I do! But it's going to be a long two weeks from now until we return - a time of hardship and fear and uncertainty. And, above all, bravery." He smiled down at her, and touched her cheek. "So you'll do great."
Elizabeth gave a short, humourless laugh. "And here I am, supposed to be looking for a bit of ready money."
"Well, we're getting £600 expenses to take with us, in French Francs - if you economise, it should last you till you get back."
"Six hundred? Good Lord."
"Good, isn't it?"
"I'll say!"
"Well, it's a dirty job, and somebody's got to do it." He took her arm and walked her to a little café, where they each ordered a drink. "I like this place - so quietly modest - not flamboyant, like some of these expensive places. It's great."
Elizabeth saw the prices on the menu and didn't pass comment. It was not the first time that she'd realised the huge differences between her world and his. She hoped that he'd offer to pay - she realised, with some embarrassment, that she didn't have any money in her bag.
"Here." He handed her a cigarette.
Elizabeth pushed it away. "No thanks - I don't."
"High time to start then - you'll find that it's a wonderful relief after all the stress of our kind of life. Doctors say that it's good for you. Go on - take it. Here, take the whole packet. I've got some matches you can have too."
Elizabeth timidly took the cigarette, lit it, and inhaled deeply - and spluttered and choked in a rather undignified manner. "That's disgusting," she wheezed.
She saw through the tears in her eyes that Darcy was trying not to laugh. "You only found it disgusting because you don't know how to do it. You don't need to breathe it in - just let the smoke swirl around in your mouth (not in your lungs) and then let it go."
Elizabeth had another go, this time without the coughing and suffocation. "It still tastes disgusting."
"It always does at first. Here, you take this packet, and these matches, and keep trying. You'll get it. You know, you look so refreshing in London," he announced with a charming smile.
"Really? Do tell." Elizabeth was slightly confused by this sudden change in topic.
"Your clothes. Pleats aren't to be had for love or money these days - waste of material; and the loose sweater with long sleeves: likewise, sweaters are tight now and don't have sleeves."
Elizabeth blushed. "I have to use my rations for more practical things, not fancy new fashions."
"No, no, I don't mean that - I mean that I don't like these new fashions of women wearing trousers and tight clothes, so it's good to see someone attired in the pleats and modest clothing that I admire."
"Women wear trousers these days? I thought that was only we members of the WRAF?"
"No, it's commonplace now - what with women being admitted into the factory, and all that. I know I'm old fashioned - "
"To say the least!" laughed Elizabeth.
" - but I do like to see a woman looking like you." He smiled. "Not that there can be many women who look quite like you - personally I've never seen a prettier one."
Elizabeth coyly took a sip of her tea to hide her face, and then looked up after collecting herself a little. "I'm glad you think so - sometimes I wonder if you like me at all."
He looked at her anxiously. "You mean - that business yesterday at your house?"
'What am I doing?' she asked herself. 'This man is wonderful, and we're going to be each other's strength and support alone in a hostile nation in a week.' "No, I'm sorry about that - I was exhausted after the journey, and not at my best. Mamma was so - " She bit her lip and took another sip of her tea.
"Your mother was delightful. I'm sorry I wasn't more forthcoming, but - I just - I find it difficult to - "
"Will there be anything else, sir?"
"I'm sorry? Oh - yes. Elizabeth, I think we ought to have something to eat now if we want to be on time for our friend later on."
"We have lots of time. It's only - oh." Elizabeth checked her watch, and found that is was just before eleven o'clock, meaning that they had less than an hour in which to eat and get to the church. "Perhaps we'd better order something. Where did the time go?"
"I was enjoying it too much," Darcy assured her, smiling and taking hold of her hand over the table. Elizabeth returned the smile with a little blush, but thought of the waitress, and turned to her to make her order. Darcy did likewise, and the rest of the meal and the journey to see Mr. Collins were composed entirely of chat and flirtation. Whatever Darcy had intended to say, about finding something difficult, was lost forever with that magic moment.
They found, when they finished, that the church was closer than they had thought; and it came out that they arrived twenty minutes before the scheduled time. Elizabeth, remembering that the shop where Jane worked was very nearby, promised to be back in a few minutes, and went to see her sister. She quickly found her sister unoccupied, and went straight into the matter at hand.
"Jane, I've found out why Darcy came into London."
"He said he came to get his sister, I think?"
"He hasn't. Jane, he - he's come for me."
Jane paled, and clutched the desk tightly. "How long do you have?" she asked quietly.
"This time next week, I'll be in - umm - I'll have reached my destination."
"Oh God..." Jane sank into a chair, and Elizabeth held her hand protectively, willing herself not to cry. "But - you've just come home."
"I'm a linguist. They need me," Elizabeth explained simply.
"I - won't stop you. They need you. You're so good to do this, Lizzy."
"No, I'm not. I'm only doing it because Darcy's going too. And he's described it, and it sounds easy as pie - honestly, Jane, my first reaction was that they'd given me one which was very safe and easy! Of course, I can't tell you what it is, but...well, it really is...very...straightforward," Elizabeth finished awkwardly.
"I'll take your word for it, Lizzy." Jane pulled out a handkerchief and began to cry noiselessly.
"Oh, Jane...Jane, you mustn't, you really mustn't. I'll be back before you know it - two weeks from today, I'll be back, Jane - and then I'll never have to leave again - and we'll be together for the rest of our days, I swear. Please, Jane, no one must know - you must be brave. I'm relying on you."
"Jane! What's going on?" snapped a snooty woman, coming out of a back room. Her authoritative air told Elizabeth that she was the owner of the shop.
"This young lady seems to have been overcome by a dizzy spell," she explained. "There, there, my girl. You're alright - you just need to sit down and rest for a moment."
"I'm so sorry, madam. Jane, what on earth is the matter with you?"
"Oh no - please, don't be cruel to her - I couldn't bear it," cried Elizabeth as she saw Jane's state worsen, and feeling pretty close to tears herself.
"I'm alright, Mrs. de Bourgh. I just felt a little faint for a moment. I've just received some rather awful news from home. - This lady brought it for me."
"Well, I'm sorry about that. Return to your duties in five minutes. And you, madam; are you interested in buying anything in my shop?"
"Oh, no: I'm far too humble for this shop, ma'am," announced Elizabeth, dropping a deep curtsey; for the condescending attitude of the woman irritated her. "I'd better vacate it at once, so as not to pollute it any further. Good day, ma'am; and I hope the young lady feels better in five minutes." She left the shop with a cold backward glance at Mrs. de Bourgh, and was soon back at the church, with plenty of time before their meeting with Mr. Collins in his private room was due to begin.
"Elizabeth. Darcy. It's good to see you both. I wish it were under more felicitous circumstances, but - " He sighed briskly, and went on: "How much has Darcy told you about your mission?"
Elizabeth explained all that she had heard; and Collins nodded in satisfaction. "That's good. That's basically it. And you've accepted?"
"Of course."
"Good. Good. Well. Let's get down to business. One week from today you and Darcy will travel separately to Rouen. Darcy will have to be parachuted into the nearby countryside, but you can go by train - First Class." He smiled. "You'll be pretending to be looking for some French relatives - two friends of Darcy who have been informed of the impending arrival of a new relation. They aren't in the ring, so you needn't worry about suspicion falling on you for associating with them - they're just friends. We'll give you a new identity and new papers and ID. Be out in a week to rendezvous with Darcy in Paris the following week, at twelve o'clock sharp midday." He regarded her with a critical eye. "Of course, you'll have to have new clothes, and what not. Do you have enough rations yourself?"
Elizabeth bristled up. "What's wrong with my clothes?"
"You're travelling First Class - you can't be seen wearing old clothes like that. We'll get you some expensive new ones, don't you worry."
"Darcy likes my old clothes, don't you?"
"You know I do."
Collins looked up and stared, with some misgivings, at the speaker of these words. Tall, dark and handsome. Damn it. He still had feelings for Elizabeth, though he was married to a young lady who was totally unawares of his secret occupation; but Darcy was an old and dear friend. They had his blessing. But it was never pleasant when two people in the same utterly perilous job got together like that.
With a concealed sigh, he sat down at the desk and gestured for them to take a seat in front of it. "Now here's what's going to happen..."
"I thought you said you were going to settle down here and get a job."
"Once this is over, they won't need me again."
"All the more reason for you not to go, if they need you so little."
"Mamma, it's quite settled. They're paying for my fare, and you don't even have to take me to the station - Darcy's going to do that."
"Oh. You're going with Mr. Darcy, are you?"
"Yes. We work together, mamma. I saw him today in town, and he told me that we would have to return to Scotland."
"More learning to cook?" growled a voice from the doorway.
Everyone looked up - there stood Mr. Bennet glaring at his daughter, a half-empty bottle in his hand. Jane stood up and gently attempted to pry it out of his hand. "Come on, papa, give it to me," she murmured softly.
"Shut up. Elizabeth, I will not let you go."
"Why not? You aren't paying for me to go, and it doesn't put you out at all - in fact, it's better for you that I do go - one less mouth to feed, and all that," she added pointedly.
Mr. Bennet's speech was slurred, but his wits were as sharp as ever. "It does put me out. When you're at home you could make yourself useful - get a job, practise those wonderful cooking skills on your family - but when you're away, I'm getting no feedback from you at all. Did we raise you - clothe you - feed you - just so that you could go off and do someone else's cooking and washing for them?"
"I thought that was the point of having a daughter," Elizabeth said archly: "it's exactly what you wanted me to do with Mr. Collins."
"Mr. Collins is completely different. He has nothing to do with this."
"No - because Mr. Collins could give our family money and security. What you really hate is that I'm doing all this to offer my services to a body of men who can only repay me by saving my country from a monstrous enemy. You are quite right to be angry - after all, what's freedom and life, when you could have ill-gotten money?"
"None of that, young lady, none of that. You're barely more than a child, and off you go, out into the world. I know what happened last time I let my daughters do that - one of them ended up pregnant - "
"James!" cried Mrs. Bennet. Until that point she had been nodding wisely, agreeing with her husband - but this was one step too far. "That's quite enough about Kitty. Poor girl. She should have support at this time. Off you go to bed, James - you're not fit to be up."
"Really? What's the matter with me? Have you noticed yet?"
"James, please."
"I asked you if you'd noticed yet."
"And I asked you - "
"I am an alcoholic, Mrs. Bennet! I'm going to disgrace you if anyone ever finds out! How will you feel about Mrs. Long and Mrs. Lucas, when they start to chide you for letting me drink so much? Will you still be so...kind to them? So...affectionate? You deluded old - "
"That is enough, sir," Elizabeth spat. "There is no need for this asperity. I suggest that we ladies retire, before we hear anything that we shouldn't. Good night, mamma. Good night, Mary." She gave them both a quick kiss, and then led Jane away by the hand.
"That's right," agreed her father's uneven voice from down the hallway, "you do your martyr thing and save the family from my sinning ways. God bless you, Lizzy."
Elizabeth did not stop or turn round until she had reached her bedroom. Then she collapsed onto the bed, sighing deeply.
"Not quite the farewell I would have liked, but..."
"Lizzy, he isn't usually this bad," Jane said humbly. "I blame myself, of course, for not listening to you when he first started to drink - "
"You? Who could blame you, Jane, for his weakness and vice?" A fleeting image of the cigarettes in her bag flashed through Elizabeth's mind, but she continued: "You are no more to blame than I am for not marrying Mr. Collins."
"I wonder if he is happy with Charlotte?" Jane mused. "And if Charlotte is happy with him?"
"You need wonder no more," Elizabeth announced with a secret smile. "Let me just say that they are quite content, I believe, though one of them holds a lot of secrets which the other can never know."
"Good heavens! - I will not ask you any more. And yet - it seems so clear now. Charlotte is just perfect for that line of work."
Elizabeth laughed. "She is indeed. She makes him a proper wife. No questions asked, you understand."
"Of course. Mr. Collins must be a very good sort of man if he can put up with that."
Elizabeth laughed again, more loudly this time. "Better than anyone knows. I must get to bed now - I'm so tired, and I have a lot to do tomorrow. But one thing more, before you go - Jane, dearest, were you really so unwell in the shop?"
"Oh." Jane flushed. "Well, it was just the shock of it all...but, if you're going to be back within two weeks, then I suppose..."
"You try and keep me away. Good night."
Jane took her sister's hand and pressed it for a moment. "Good night."
Elizabeth waited only for her sister to leave before pulling her secret treasure out of her bag. She lit one of the cigarettes carefully and lifted it to her lips, and sank back, exhaling deeply; and thoughts of Darcy drifted her off into peaceful sleep.
Elizabeth awoke. For a single moment, she kept that blissful sensation of heady uncertainty - who was she? Where was she? A gentle whirl of questions. She stretched extravagantly and began to pull herself out of bed with a smile on her face - when she remembered a lot of things that she soon wished she hadn't.
Elizabeth Bennet - alias Diana Briggs.
April 15th, 1943
She was going to France today.
She was going to take on the German army.
It was still dark - perhaps she could delay the inevitable just a little longer. In a panic, she caught up her watch. Half past four. She had another hour in which to sleep before she would have to get up and get ready for Darcy's arrival.
Thoughts of Darcy, and of her upcoming mission, pushed any hope of sleep right out of her head. Where had the week gone? She thought of last night, and the fun she'd had - and she wondered if she'd ever have fun like that again - ever go out with a man - ever have a drink with her sister. It was too, too much.
The evening had been such fun. Darcy, knowing from experience that she was going to be a nervous wreck that night, suggested that they go to that favourite café of his and dance the night away. (Apparently it became rather less formidable by night, when local people would come in and dance by the music of a professional pianist and singer.) She had agreed, and had persuaded Jane to come along, with Bingley...
"Elizabeth, you look lovely." Darcy smiled and kissed her hand. "Good old English beauty - you can't beat it, can you?"
"What about all those French beauties that are going to turn your head?" she asked in a low voice and a faint smile.
"Don't think about that now. For the next week you'll think about nothing else but the task at hand - so let's think no more about it now. Will you dance, Elizabeth?"
"Certainly." He whisked her off onto the dance floor, entertaining her with stories from his childhood to the extent that she completely forgot her fear - rather, she was glad that she'd have this wonderful creature all to herself for seven whole days.
A more romantic song began, and Darcy smiled and slowed their dancing. "I'm so glad I finally got you somewhere romantic and intimate," he laughed, remembering how all week they had been forced to meet up either at Collins's office or the air-raid shelter, and had never been alone. "I can't tell you how I've waited for this..."
"Oh - umm." Elizabeth thought awkwardly of her sister and her fiancé as she saw them entering the café just at that moment. "Well, I sort of invited two other people along."
Darcy stiffened. "Whom?"
"My sister Jane, and Charles, her fiancé. They're going to spend the whole night in each other's arms, so I wouldn't worry about their interrupting us." She smiled impishly. "After all, that's what you're worried about, isn't it?"
Darcy swore under his breath and moved away from her. "Miss Bennet. Mr. Bingley."
Bingley stuck out his hand and pumped Darcy's up and down for longer than was necessary. "I wish you'd call me Charles - I've told you enough times. And Jane's Jane, not 'Miss Bennet'."
Darcy said nothing, merely looking at the man with enough irritation that Bingley got the hint, and asked his fiancée if she wouldn't dance.
"Actually, I'd like a drink, if you don't mind, Charles."
"By all means, my love. Elizabeth, Darcy, can I get you anything?"
"Thank you, no."
"Yes, we'd love one, thanks," Elizabeth announced in a determined voice. She flashed Darcy a look that forewarned him that he had better agree, and murmured that she really needed a drink. He stifled a sigh and, taking her arm, followed the other two to the bar.
Elizabeth was beginning to be something of a nervous wreck again: all her fears and neuroses were returning with a vengeance. She was far too uptight to notice Darcy's cool behaviour, and was at any rate too wrapped up in her own worries and fears to confront him about it. She wondered vaguely why he wasn't comforting her when her unease must be obvious - but it was all one to her as she sipped her drink miserably.
The four sat together in stiff silence, any attempts at conversation on Bingley's part being squashed by Darcy's stern replies. Eventually he asked his fiancée to dance, and they left Darcy and Elizabeth alone together.
Instantly Darcy murmured, "Let's go outside and enjoy a little fresh air, eh?" He took her hand and led her out onto the balcony. She leant over the edge and, unable to repress her feelings any longer, burst into tears. Darcy took her in his arms and pressed her against him, making gentle crooning noises and comforting her. "There, there, it's alright. I'm here. I won't let you go. You're alright."
"I'm so scared," she whispered to his chest. "What if I can't cope and let you down?"
"You won't," he assured her. "I know that you're strong enough to do that. Look at you. You're so exhausted, you're getting emotional. You've been working too hard this last week - I should've helped you more."
"I wanted to work - it took my mind off what we were about to do. Oh, Fitzwilliam, I think I could do it if you were going to come with me, but - I'll be all alone on the boat, and in the train. If you were there, I'd feel so much safer."
"If I was there, you'd be so less safe. My poor Elizabeth - so scared on her first time - so alone. But don't worry - soon I'll be with you in Paris, and then you can go shopping, safe in the knowledge that you've done your bit for your country." He squeezed her tighter. "And I'll be so proud of you."
"So - I won't see you until the rendezvous time?"
"You know I can't come into Rouen," he reminded her gently. "I'll be just outside it the whole time, and will then go to Paris. You understand?"
"Yes." Elizabeth's heart fell, and she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed anew. "I'll miss you so much!"
A strange look came into his eyes. "I'll miss you too."
Time to get up. Elizabeth had been busy all week - absolutely everything was prepared for her journey this morning. At six o'clock Darcy was to arrive at her door, ostensibly to walk with her to the station, but really he had a car waiting to drive her to the port. Elizabeth hadn't been in a car for years, and had never been in a boat, so was determined to enjoy the journey.
In a week's time, it would all be over, she thought as she sat in deathly silence eating breakfast with her elder sister. A single week. Suddenly, that wasn't enough time. How could she check up on 98 people in that amount of time? It was ludicrous. The toast in her mouth turned to sawdust. Jane sensed her turn in emotion and clutched her hand.
All too soon, six o'clock came. Darcy knocked at the door, and waited outside for Elizabeth to come wither her small suitcase and handbag. "That's all your taking?" asked Jane. "Do you have everything you need?"
"Dearest, there's no need to mother me," Elizabeth said with a brightness that was totally alien to her at that time. "I'll be fine. I won't be able to write, of course - but I'll bring you back a present to make up for that."
"You're a darling creature," exclaimed Jane, hugging her. "Oh, do take care - watch out for German officers, and - and - and have a good time!"
Elizabeth sniffed. "Don't I wish I could tell you everything!"
"Don't, Lizzy, please don't. Just - just go."
Elizabeth gave her sister a last parting kiss, and went to greet Darcy outside. Jane watched them walk away together, neither one saying anything, and shut the front door with a stifled sob.
« Mademoiselle? Comment ca va? »
"Mademoiselle? How are you?"
Elizabeth awoke. "Where am I?" she murmured.
« Je ne parle pas l'anglais. Je suis désolé. »
"I don't speak English. Sorry."
« Ce n'est pas rien. Je suis en Rouen? »
"That's OK. Am I in Rouen?"
Something wasn't right. Why did his accent sound so strange?
« Oui. Je m'appelle Commandant Hurst. »
"Yes. I'm Commandant Hurst."
He was German! - Of course! « Je suis désolée - je ne parle pas l'allemande. »
"I'm sorry - I don't speak German."
« Ne vous en faissez pas. Mademoiselle, comment ca va? »
"Don't worry about it. Mademoiselle, how are you?"
« Ca va bien, merci, » Elizabeth lied, rubbing her head. « Qu'est-ce qu'a fait? »
"I'm fine, thanks. What happened?"
« Vous êtês tombée en train. Vous vous êtês fait mal a la tête. »
"You took a fall on the train. You hurt your head."
« Ca me fait mal, » Elizabeth groaned.
"It hurts."
« Je vous aiderai. Ou restez-vous? »
"I'll help you. Where are you staying?"
« Avec mon oncle et ma tante. »
"With my uncle and aunt."
« Je vous aiderai y aller. » Commandant Hurst helped her up.
"I'll help you get there.."
« Merci, Commandant. Voici est l'addresse. »
"Thank you, Commandant. Here's the address."
The man helped her up, and Elizabeth quaked under his grip. This man was a high-ranking German officer - and here she was, being escorted by him to the house of two French sympathisers of the Resistance! He must know - he must be taking her to HQ. She barely heard his attempts at light conversation, and could not have repeated her answers later on.
At last they reached the correct address, and she knocked at the door. The Commandant put down her luggage and smiled engagingly. « Mademoiselle, j'espère que vous mangeriez avec moi ce soir? On se retrouve ici à 8 heures. »
"I hope, mademoiselle, that you will eat with me tonight? Let's meet here at eight o'clock."
« Merci, Commandant. Je l'attends avec impatience. »
"Thank you, Commandant. I look forward to it."
He kissed her hand gallantly, and was off immediately, turning once to smile at her. Elizabeth willed herself not to look around as the door opened and a kindly faced lady opened the door. « C'est moi, madame. »
"It's me, Madame."
The old lady made a huge fuss over her, exclaiming things in French that even Elizabeth, with all her abilities, could not understand. She found herself pulled into the house and her luggage dragged along with her, and before she knew it she was seated in front of a glowing fire. The woman, whose name Elizabeth remembered was Ellen Brouiller, brought a cup of tea for her, and asked sharply:
"Your name?"
Elizabeth was so relieved to hear some English that she forgot to notice the woman's harsh, unfriendly manner. "Diana Briggs, here."
"Did you speak to anyone?"
"One man: Commandant Hurst. Apparently I had an accident on the train, though remember nothing of it; and he insisted on helping me and escorting me here."
The woman breathed in sharply. "You must not play with the Commandant. He is a dangerous man. Even now you are in danger. You must get on with your business quickly and get out as soon as possible. What are your instructions?"
"I am to find out how many are left of the Resistance ring."
"Go to M. Dumand, the mechanic. You will find him at the garage. His English is more good than mine. Go at once. There is no time to be lost."
Elizabeth hastened away, leaving her cup of tea behind, and feeling utterly miserable. She admitted that her idea of her experience had been heavily romanticised, and the reality was a let-down. The couple with whom she was to stay was supposed to be old and wizened, but very affectionate and brave - but she had only met the old woman so far, who had been very inhospitable in her welcome. Although the Commandant was exactly as she had imagined - young and handsome and gallant, with a spicy whiff of danger - the suggestion of the old woman that he was only interested in her because she had already revealed that she was a spy, was not very flattering.
She found her way to the garage easily, and saw that there was only one man there, his head buried in the front of the car on which he was working. "Good morning, M. Dumand."
He looked up and gave her a quizzical stare. "Good morning, mademoiselle. How can I help you?"
"I was hoping to hire a bicycle," she said: "the spring is so beautiful. It's good that it's finally here."
He looked at her cautiously as she casually threw in the code. "Yes," he agreed; "it's been a long winter."
She smiled and nodded. "I come with the compliments of Madame Brouiller." She stepped closer to him and went on in a lower tone: "I need to know many of the ring are left?"
He led her over to the bicycles, ostensibly showing her his stock, but murmuring, "Very few. You know that there were 98 when Wickham was last here?"
Wickham? - Of course: Darcy's code name. "Yes. How many are left?"
"The Germans, they have swept through Rouen. There are but three remaining: myself, Mme Levick, and M. Radford. This is if you discount Mme Brouiller herself, who is not a proper agent."
"So few?"
"I fear so: the Germans, as I say, have hit us hard. The damage done to the ring is insurmountable. It can never be rebuilt."
"Are you quite sure?" she urged him, remembering Darcy's caution that not all the agents were to be trusted. "Is there anyone else to whom I may go for brighter news?"
"You can try the names I just gave you: Mme Levick and M. Radford. Mme Brouiller has refused all participation since her husband was killed in connection with our last job before the sweeps. You will find her more willing to hand you over to the authorities than to help."
"Great. So not only is the Commandant on to me, but I also have my supposed mentor working against me as well."
"The Commandant is on to you?" Immediately M. Dumand's voice was sharp and authoritative.
"Well - he seems to be taking a great deal of interest in me, which I can attribute to no other cause. He invited me out to dinner tonight"
He relaxed. "You're a very pretty lady. He can't help it. Here - I recommend this bicycle. That'll be fifty francs for the day - I suggest you get out of Rouen tomorrow, or sooner, if possible. You're in danger every minute the Commandant thinks about you - and as for dinner with him tonight..."
"Thanks. And thank you for the information. I suppose we'll have to rely on neighbouring rings for jobs to be done here." She rode away quickly on the bicycle, and was just making up her mind to return to the house to inquire about Mme Levick when she became aware that she was being watched. She pretended not to notice, but stopped cycling and got a small mirror out of her handbag. Checking her hair in it, she caught sight of two men standing a way behind her. They began to advance. Elizabeth calmly pulled out a lipstick and touched up her makeup. As they approached, she whirled round, and, smiling, put her things back into her bag. "Lovely day, isn't it?" she offered, smiling at them.
They remained silent. She pretended to be surprised, and after a moment laughed and said: « Je suis désolée - j'ai oublié que j'était en France. J'ai dit que c'est un journée trés belle. »
"I'm sorry - I forgot I was in France. I said it's a lovely day."
« Mademoiselle, venez avec nous s'il-vous-plaît. »
"Come with us, please, mademoiselle."
« Ou? Qu'est-ce que c'est la problemme, monsieur? »
"Where? What is the problem, sir?"
« Venez avec nous, mademoiselle. »
"Come with us, mademoiselle."
They pulled Elizabeth away, she dragging the bike along behind her and complaining bitterly about this treatment, trying to keep up an aura of innocence as she felt her heart plummet. She knew where they were taking her.
They took her to the German HQ, where she was pushed into a room where she met -
« Mademoiselle! C'est un plaîsir. Pourquoi avez-vous venue ici? »
"Mademoiselle! It's a pleasure. Why have you come here?
Commandant Hurst smiled benignly at her and gestured for her to take a seat.
« Ce n'était pas ma choix, Commandant. »
"It wasn't my choice, Commandant."
After barking a few words at the two men, he turned to her, evidently displeased. Elizabeth willed herself not to tremble, though she was sorely tempted.
"Why did you go and see the mechanic?" asked one of the men in awkward English.
"I wanted to hire a bicycle," she announced with a hint of impatience, "and, as you saw, I did so."
The man repeated this in German to the Commandant, who smiled at her and gestured for him to continue: "Why were you talking to him for so long?"
"He asked far too much to begin with." She let her expression become triumphant as she added, "I managed to haggle him down to fifty francs. Pretty bloody good, if I do say so myself." The oath that left her mouth astonished her, but it just seemed right somehow.
"Where are you staying in France?"
"With my aunt and - no, not my uncle." She bit her lip, and let the tears of panic that were brimming just below her casual façade cascade over her face. "I have just discovered that my uncle is dead - my aunt didn't tell us."
When this had been translated to the Commandant, he expressed his sorrow, and patted her hand gently over the desktop. Elizabeth thought of Darcy's touch as he held her hand that day in the café, and smiled dreamily, unwittingly at the Commandant rather than at her absent friend. He murmured something to German officer, and she sat waiting for his verdict.
"The Commandant says that you are free to go, and that he hopes you remember your dinner arrangement tonight."
Elizabeth let her face relax into a smile. She'd done it. "Yes - thank you. Tell him I look forward to seeing him. No hard feelings, sir, I hope?" She extended her hand. "I understand that you have to check on these things - this beastly war, and all that."
The man looked as if he didn't quite understand. "Yes, of course. Goodbye, mademoiselle."
"Goodbye." She hurried out and, finding her bicycle, rode away quickly. She had to get out as soon as possible - something told her that the two men were not quite as willing to believe her as the Commandant, and in him it might only be a front. She returned to the house where she was staying, and began by explaining to the old woman that she had heard of the difficulties concerning her husband, and was sorry.
"That is well," the woman murmured, embarrassed. "Have you had a successful morning?"
"Not really. I must leave Rouen as soon as possible - hopefully by eight o'clock tonight. I am to have dinner with the Commandant, but I cannot - he suspects."
The woman was at once her old sharp self. "You must, or he will suspect me."
"When he comes here to collect me, you can explain that we've had a row. Please, there's nothing else for it. He suspects me, and wants to interrogate me. I've only just now escaped arrest."
The woman sighed. "Very well. Is there anything else you hope to accomplish before you go?"
"I received rather unfortunate information from M. Dumond, and I want to see the other two people he mentioned. I hope that the reality is not quite as bleak as he has presented it to be."
"It is very bleak: there are but three members of the ring left. Luckily, they are all very trustworthy."
"Are there really only three remaining, from 98?" asked Elizabeth sadly.
"There is nothing left for you in Rouen - the Resistance is but a petty handful. The Germans have seen to that."
"Then there is little else that can keep me. Thank you for your help, Mme. Brouiller - I hope you would do me one last favour by returning this bicycle. I paid fifty francs to have it today, and all it did was get me arrested. What a waste."
The woman hesitated, then reached into her pocket and pulled out fifty francs. "Here."
"I couldn't - "
"You could. You will. Consider it payment - I want you to do one last thing for me, before you go. There are but three people left, and the Germans think they have us licked - but I do not want them to think that. Would you organise something - anything - to remind them that they still need to keep their eyes peeled for trouble?"
Elizabeth smiled. "Of course. Is there anything that would be particularly useful?"
"The railway," she announced immediately and with no hesitation. Elizabeth wondered how long she had been considering this. "When there is a train full of ammo on it - that would be the most good."
"Then it shall be done. Goodbye, Madame, and thank you." She took the money, and, after asking for directions to the other two remaining agents' houses, she was off again, this time on foot.
"Twelve o'clock exactly. Good girl. I heard about your success in Rouen - your incredible success. You've done a wonderful job."
Elizabeth sank down onto the bench beside Darcy. "I am utterly spent with worry," she sighed, closing her eyes and leaning against him. "You're sure I won't have to come again."
"You're kidding. You? Come again? After that explosion on the railway? They won't hear of it, believe me. That was some good work with the trains. Why'd you do it?"
"I was asked to by your friend - Mme Brouiller. Did you know that M. Brouiller was killed in the sweeps?"
The muscles in Darcy's arm clenched beneath her, and he murmured: "No, I didn't."
"I'm sorry. She's not open to assisting us any more - quite understandable, really."
"Do you want to do some shopping?" he asked abruptly. His face softened. "What am I thinking? As if you won't have done a load already. Women."
Elizabeth giggled. "I have, actually. I bought the most bloody gorgeous dress on the black market - absolutely beautiful."
"So, you swear now, do you?" he commented with an amused grin. "And where did you pick up such a filthy habit, young lady?"
Elizabeth blushed. "I'm not sure, actually. It just suddenly - happened. I've been cursing fluently since I arrived, almost. Anyway, about this dress: I know it goes against all my principles, but - oh, you should have seen it, Darcy! Jesus, it was so - so lovely, just lying there, willing me to buy it!"
"I'm sure," he agreed dryly. "And have you bought gifts for your family?"
"To placate them because of my leaving? Of course. I bought Jane a very beautiful dress - also black market, I'm afraid - and Kitty and Lydia each some perfume, and mamma a pearl necklace, and Mary a certain book that she couldn't find in England. And papa - I bought papa a bottle of the finest champagne," she announced, her voice dropping.
"How much of your money did you use? That huge amount that you swore was too much - how much of it is left?"
"Just enough to pay my hotel bill at the end of today," she announced with a blush. "I know I went a bit mad, but it's not often that a girl finds herself in Paris with £600 to spend, and I've never been abroad before."
Darcy smiled. "So I suppose I'm paying for lunch, hey?"
"I think so," she said ruefully with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Darcy."
"For what?"
"I don't know. For being so f***king perfect." She pulled a box of matches and a packet out of her handbag. "Cigarette?"
Darcy nodded, and she placed one in his mouth and lit it, and he did the same for her. "I'm going to miss all this, in a way, now that it's over," Elizabeth said meditatively.
"You're going to miss that nausea that you feel when you wake up, an the impending sense of doom you experience every time someone approaches you?"
"No, no, not all that, of course - and yet - yes, all that. It's marvelous, isn't it? To think that there are so few of us doing what we're doing - and yet, here we are, doing it. There's one for the old Huns, and all that. We're pretty f***king lucky, Darcy."
"I know," he said quietly, looking at her.
Not understanding him, she continued: "And now we're going to go home, and no one's ever going to know. They're going to think that we served people soup and drove vans for a week, and that I came back with an armful of French presents. Hmm. Perhaps that wasn't such a good idea. Well, mamma will be pleased, at any rate. Papa will be furious - but how can I help that, if he refuses - " Elizabeth shook herself, and went on with what she had been saying before: "How many people can boast what we've experienced? Very few."
"No one can boast of it," he reminded her sternly: "no one's supposed to know about it. We won't be able to tell this story for many years."
"Still, we'll know that we've been through something pretty amazing. And I promise always to praise you for it, Darcy."
There was a short, comfortable pause. Presently Darcy said in a low voice, "You know, once we get back to England, I'm never going to let you go again."
"I don't want you to," she murmured, smiling up at him from where she rested her head on his shoulder.
Slowly, gradually, they leant closer towards one another in an embrace that finished with a tender kiss.
Darcy drew away from his girlfriend with a smile meant only for her. "I'll call you tomorrow," he promised.
"Ssh! My family must be asleep," she whispered.
"Well they're about to be woken up anyway - we may as well do it in style." And Darcy promptly began to sing a serenade to her. Elizabeth laughed almost hysterically as she attempted to silence him.
The door opened - it was Jane. "Lizzy, you're back! I've been waiting up all night for you!"
"Jane!" Elizabeth rushed into her sister's arms, still laughing with joy that she couldn't contain. "Jane, Jane, my dearest Jane, it's all over - it's forever over - I'm back now, back to stay, just as I swore to you."
"Elizabeth," murmured Darcy reprovingly.
"No, no, it's alright - Jane knows. I didn't tell her - she guessed. Jane, I've brought you all presents. Do let's all go in. Fitzwilliam, are you coming?
"I have to get back to my sister," he announced coldly. "Good night." He walked away quickly.
Elizabeth barely looked at him. "Jane, let's go inside - I've all sorts of presents for you all."
"Lizzy, it must have been terribly expensive. Here, let me carry that - "
"By no means - I'll carry it. You dear, sweet creature, I had quite enough money to buy you all presents - I bought the most terribly expensive one for myself, after all! Everyone, do wake up - I'm back! And I've got presents!" She ran into the sitting room, checked the blackout curtains were closed, and turned the light on. "Here, Jane, this is for you." She gave her the dress, and Jane tried it on - it was very long, down to her ankles, and deep grey in colour, with a delicately embroidered lace trim around the high neckline. The silk swept over her décolletage and stopped at the shoulders, leaving her long arms bare, but for two elbow-length gloves in a matching colour.
"Lizzy, it's lovely! Truly, I don't deserve it."
"Yes, you do - no one deserves it more. Enjoy it - and wear it on every possible occasion. I didn't bring that all the way back just so it could gather dust at the back of the wardrobe. Ah, Mary, you have a present too. Look - the volume you couldn't find. I hope you like the edition."
Mary picked up the book with astonished rapture. "I couldn't find this anywhere! Where on earth did you...?"
Elizabeth smiled sideways at Jane. "Ask no questions, Mary, and you'll be told no lies. Understood?"
"Yes, of course." Mary looked at Elizabeth wonderingly. "Thank you Lizzy." She glanced at Jane, and back to her other sister. "I wonder - you wouldn't tell me, of course - but - are you, perhaps, involved in a little more - just a little - than that for which you take credit?"
Elizabeth laughed gaily, and threw her arms around Mary's neck, much to that sister's astonishment. "Not any more," she exclaimed. "It's over! I never have to do it again, so long as I live!"
"Wow," breathed Mary. Elizabeth knew that she could trust her quiet, retiring sister, and smiled knowingly. It occurred to her vaguely that she had broken the rules once again in letting another sister find out her secret - but she didn't care any more. She was free from all that now! Her first, last, and only mission was completed - and her life and freedom were safe once more.
At that moment, Mrs. Bennet joined them, nervously enclosed in a faded dressing gown. "Lizzy, why on earth have you arrived now? It's so late! I thought we were all to be murdered in our beds! And who was that man outside with you?"
"That was Darcy. We were just celebrating being home again. Look, mamma - I've brought you a string of pearls." She extended the hand that held the beautiful little jewellery box, and the sight of it made her smile anew as she thought of Mrs. de Bourgh's jewellery shop, where Jane worked. 'So much for being too humble to shop there,' she thought triumphantly; 'these are better than anything she could have had.'
"Why, Lizzy, these are lovely!" exclaimed her mother with some surprise. "They must have been so expensive. And Jane's dress! Did you bring that back from Scotland, Lizzy?"
Elizabeth exchanged a slight smile with each sister. "Yes, mamma. Black market, of course. Utterly diabolical stuff - but I had so much money, I didn't know what to do with it."
"It looks distinctly French," she announced, regarding it carefully. "Parisian, I'd say.
Elizabeth blushed. "Yes, mamma."
"Well! Jane has her dress, and I have my jewellery, and Mary has her book - and what have you got for yourself, Lizzy?"
"This." Elizabeth pulled out her own dress, and her family stared at it in dumb appreciation. It was as long as Jane's, but had a neckline that dived down, and full-length sleeves. It was black silk, with a length of glitter that ran along the swooping neckline in a blur of sparkling grandeur. "Isn't it heavenly? I know it's wrong to buy off the black market, but - I simply couldn't resist!"
"So you're not an angel after all, Lizzy?"
Elizabeth looked up - there in the doorway stood her father, his face expressive of irritation and displeasure. "I never claimed to be one, papa," she announced calmly. "In fact, I'm so far from being angelic, that I brought you this present." She held out the champagne with a resolute stare. "Glad to be home."
He took it, and smiled dryly. "Expensive presents - a good vintage - what don't I know about your salary, Elizabeth?"
"You know that it's none of your business, and that I won't be receiving it any more - I'm here to stay now. And as you've been recompensed for the discomfort of having another mouth to feed - " (letting her eyes wander from his fleshy face to the bottle in his hand with a hint of an amused smile) - "I'll leave you to rejoice at my return in private. I'm tired after my journey, and I have to get up early tomorrow morning to seek work. Good night, all."
"'Good night'? Not at all - we have to celebrate your return," announced her father cheerfully, taking a steely hold of her arm. "I see Jane is already wearing her gift, but you run and put yours on, and I'll open the champagne, and your mother will put her pearls on, and we'll make a proper little party of it."
Mrs. Bennet chuckled delightedly and bade Mary fasten her pearls around her neck, but Elizabeth merely smiled and went to Jane. "We can't let him stay up and drink," she murmured. "What can we do to prevent it?"
"Nothing, except urge everyone to go to bed. - But, really, Lizzy, why shouldn't we celebrate? Our parents may not know it, but you're finally safe from all the dangers of the war - finally returned to me! Are you quite sure you won't have to go again."
"Quite sire - Darcy told me it'd be too dangerous." She flashed a grin as she went on: "I gave the Germans a little extra parting gift for which they won't like me, and for which I'd suffer if I went back."
"We have a lot of celebrating to do!" Mrs. Bennet was exclaiming. "Lizzy, you won't know this, of course - but Kitty has had her baby. Get the good glasses, Mary. - I'd like to propose a toast - to Daisy Mariah Bennet."
Elizabeth was overjoyed. "Then Kitty will be coming back? - With her baby?"
"Well, we're not sure - about the baby, I mean - but she and Lydia will be returning very shortly."
"That's worth a celebration, I think, Jane." Elizabeth touched her sister's glass with her won. "To absent friends."
"Absent friends," Jane returned with a smile.
"James, won't you look at Elizabeth's dress? Isn't it beautiful? Parisian, I was saying it must be. Yes, definitely French - and only in Paris could one buy dresses like hers and Jane's. It's very becoming, my child - isn't it, papa?"
"Very," he repeated, staring at his daughter intently as she blushed under the scrutiny of his gaze, and the unwitting truth in her mother's comments.
The strain of the night, and of the previous week, overcome her in a moment - and Elizabeth's head (where she had sustained the injury on the train) began to throb painfully. Feeling a dizziness waft over her, she let the glass in her hand drop and clutched her hand, attempting to restrain a groan. The dizziness almost immediately passed, but she could feel her temples throbbing as the stress mounted, and she begged to be excused.
"What's the matter, Lizzy?" asked Jane in alarm, as Mrs. Bennet mourned for the loss of one of her crystal goblet set.
"Oh, it's nothing. - I fell over on the train and suffered a little concussion - that's all. The excitement made my head throb again. I'm sorry about your glass, mama. I'd better go to bed now. Good night, everyone." Elizabeth made her way upstairs with painful slowness, each step accentuating the throbs that pounded at her. She found Jane supporting her and helping her, and with her help was soon tucked up in bed, waiting for the inevitable arrival of the dreams she'd been having all week of the Commandant's face when she stood him up.