Free Operation Kingfisher by Hilary Green Page B

letter and read:
    Chére Maman,
    I know you will be wondering why we have not been in touch before, but please don’t worry. We are both safe and well. It was not possible to reach our destination by the route we planned, because we were badly let down by the so-called friend who gave us a lift. But we have found another way to get there. It may take quite a lot longer than we expected, so don’t be alarmed if you don’t hear from us for a few days. I’ll write again as soon as I can.
    With love from us both,
    Luke.
    She carried the letter into the kitchen and sat at the table. Her legs were shaking. The letter raised more questions than it answered. How had they been let down? The ‘so-called friend’ must be Duhamel, but he had assured her that he had delivered them safely to the station. She gritted her teeth. That little snake! He had lied to her.
    ‘Just you wait!’ she muttered. ‘I’ll make sure you live to regret this.’
    But what were Luke and Christine doing in Digoin? It wasn’t even in the right direction. Why should it take them so long to get to Montbéliard? But at least they were safe. That was all that mattered.
    Her father’s voice, enquiring querulously what had happened to his breakfast, recalled her to the present. There were chores to be done, and the men who worked in the vineyard would arrive any minute. She put the letter in the pocket of her apron, then on second thoughts took it out and threw it into the fire under the kitchen range. Her children were safe. She must be calm and patient and get on with her work.

    Luke and Christine were woken early by Bernard.
    ‘Get ready to leave. It will be best if you mingle with the crowds on their way to work. There is less chance of being stopped and questioned then.’
    Marie hurried up the gangplank carrying her shopping basket.
    ‘
Mon Dieu
! The queues! And look at this apology for a loaf. I’m sure they are mixing sawdust with the flour. Still, it will have to do. I still have some of the cheese we got from that farmer at the market in Digoin. I’ll make you a sandwich to take with you. Here, Christine, take your ration book. You mustn’t go without it.’
    Bernard unearthed two old knapsacks from the bottom of a cupboard.
    ‘This was given me when I served in the army in the last war, and the other belonged to Philippe. You can stow your good clothes in them; they’re not suitable for a long cycle ride.’
    Christine looked at Marie. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind us keeping these things? I was thinking about what you said to that German sergeant.…’
    ‘Forget it! I just made that up on the spur of the moment. You’re welcome to anything of Philippe’s if it helps.’ She pursed her lips ironically. ‘Not that those overalls do you any favours, chérie!’
    ‘Never mind. They’re comfortable.’ Christine reached out andtook Marie’s hands. ‘I don’t know how we can ever thank you, and Bernard.’
    Marie squeezed her hands.
    ‘There is no need. Now, have you got everything? Take a bottle of water each. You’ll need it on that ride.’
    When the last items were packed, Bernard went up on deck. A moment later, he ducked back into the cabin.
    ‘All clear. Come along.’
    Marie kissed them both on both cheeks.
    ‘
Adieu, mes chéres
. I shall pray to the blessed virgin to keep you safe.’
    ‘And we shall pray for you, too,’ Christine told her.
    They crossed the gangplank and paused to take a last look at the barge that had come to feel almost like a second home, in the short time they had sailed on it. Bernard was already moving away, beckoning them to follow, and they turned away and hurried after him. He led them to a small shop at the end of the quay, which sold ropes and anchors and paraffin and other necessities. Madame Delahaie was waiting for them.
    ‘I have the bicycles ready for you. What will you say if anyone asks what you are doing?’
    ‘We decided to say we’re on holiday, doing a cycle tour of the