She’d let go of her bitterness toward Marcel’s cousin, but for this first time, she felt the cool rush of forgiveness for him. What he did was despicable—but he could have undone them completely. Instead, he’d left intact just enough of their foundation for them to rebuild on.
Julie leaned close to give her an awkward hug. “I’ll speak with my husband. Surely mercy can be extended to you, if you promise not to do anything so foolish again.”
Oh, she’d definitely determined not to be foolish any longer. Zelie let a sob shudder through her. “I won’t. Never.”
“There, now. I’m sure we’ll get this all settled. Louis? Louis?”She raised her voice, though Rollin waited a long moment before answering, as if he’d had to travel nearer.
“Yes, darling? Oh! What’s this? I meant for you to make her feel at home, Julie, not to reduce her to tears.” He rushed in, dropping to a knee before Zelie’s chair.
Julie’s hand returned to its circling. “You’ve frightened the life out of her with those threats of yours. But it’s as I’ve told you—she was deceived. And now is being used as a patsy, the poor child. She was just a secretary, left holding the bag, as it were.”
“I thought it must be so.” Rollin sighed and patted Zelie’s shoulder. “Iamsorry to have frightened you,madame. I only meant to get the names of those you’d answered to.”
“It was that officer arrested in Algiers,” Julie said, “for conspiracy.”
“Ah. Now it’s all coming together.” Another patronizing pat. “Rest easy,madame. No one will expect you to pay the price for his sins. You have turned over what money you could, we’re already in possession of the paperwork left behind. I think if you promise to avoid any more Resistance work, we can safely let you go.”
She looked up, blinked her wet eyes, and instilled a bit of wonder into the quivering of her lips. “Truly? Oh,monsieur. I was afraid I was leaving my children orphans, that—”
“No, no.” He chuckled and stood. “I daresay you’ve been frightened back onto the straight and narrow, haven’t you? And you’re ready to leave the work to those of us who know what we’re doing?”
Oh, without question. They just had very different definitions about who, exactly, knew what they were doing. And what the straight and narrow demanded of her. She nodded enthusiastically. “Yes,monsieur. Of course. I am done with that disorganized network.”
And ready to build one neither Vichy nor Germany could shake again.
Twenty-One
4 JANUARY 1942
ANNECY, FRANCE
TWENTY MILES FROM THE SWISS BORDER
Zelie gave them each another long embrace—her mother, her daughter, her son—and forced herself to take a step away, open the back door of the car they’d be driving into Switzerland. Tears wanted to blur her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them. Wouldn’t let this final vision of them be distorted.
This could be the last time she ever saw any of them. She knew that. She wanted the memory to be perfect.
Elise pouted, but she didn’t understand yet that this was anything more than their usual separation, so she slid into the back seat and clutched the doll Mathilde Laurent had given her to her chest. Zelie smoothed a hand over her daughter’s silky blonde hair, pressed one last kiss to the top of her head. “I love you. I’ll miss you.”
Elise barely glanced at her. “I want to stay with you. At Tante Mathilde’s house. I want Marcel to keep teaching me piano.”
“I know,mon chou.” How had he done it? Burrowed his wayinto her children’s hearts in a few short weeks? She’d tried to tell herself it was the piano lessons for Elise, the way he treated Blaise as an equal, but could that really account for the way her daughter always attached herself to his side, how her son had begun to look to him for approval when he said something during a family meal?
She didn’t blame them for liking him. How could she? She liked him too. And she didn’t blame him for being his usual caring, encouraging self around them. Was that not why she’d known such relief when she realizedhehad been the one to go in search of them?
Even so, her chest ached, because that meant one more loss her children would have to suffer. Marcel wasn’t going to be a permanent part of their lives. When she got back to Marseille tonight and collected the last of her things from his aunt and uncle’s house, she intended to tell him that someone else would be meeting him weekly. That she had to focus on rebuilding, expanding, gathering exactly what MI6 needed from her. There was no more time for music in bistros, heartfelt conversations, or dinners at wherever she next set up Alliance.
And by the time the war was over, he’d have moved on. Which was exactly as it should be, even if the thoughtdidsend a pang through her.
“We’ll find you a piano teacher in Geneva,” Maman said to Elise. “Not as talented a one as Marcel, I grant you. But think how you’ll impress him when next you see him and you can play so many more songs!”
Despite the grin Elise flashed her grandmother, Zelie sighed and sent her mother aWhat are you doing?look. That wouldnothelp disentangle her baby’s heart from Marcel.
Maman kissed Zelie’s cheeks, wiped at her own, and pulled her in for a tight embrace. “I’ll take care of them, Zee. With my life.”
“I know. Thank you, Maman.” She hugged her close. Therewas so much yet to say. No time left for saying it. So she settled for, “I love you.”
With a sniff, Maman turned to the driver’s door.
