Free The Tiger Claw by Shauna Singh Baldwin Page B

when necessary like any frugal Indian or Parisienne, but …
    “We need your services—we don’t expect you to starve.”
    A gentle reminder of the four weeks Noor went without pay when she first joined the SOE . Went without pay for four whole weeks because she couldn’t bear to mention to Miss Atkins that His Majesty’s War Department had mistakenly failed to pay her salary.
    “I appreciate that, marm.”
    “Continue to use the code name we chose during training: Madeleine. In France, be most careful to avoid anyone who could recognize you from before the war or call you Nora.”
    None of Noor’s friends in Paris would call her Nora. Miss Atkins had forgotten Noor Khan, though the name was on Noor’s records; Noor had played Nora Baker quite well.
    “Letters to your family can be sent in care of the War Office at Whitehall. Urgent personal messages are to use our prearranged code; these will be read over the BBC for you to receive. For instance, Prosper’s team will be alerted to expect your arrival with the phrase
Jasmin is playing her flute
, and you will use the phrase
Jasmin has played her flute
to tip us off that you have arrived safely. You will identify yourself to Phono with the phrase
The sky is blue
. The correct response is:
But the bread will rise.”
    “Très drôle,”
said Noor.
    Gimlet eyes bored into Noor’s. “Yes, very funny. Only, Nora, this is no game. All of France is occupied by the Germans now. SOE agents and the Resistance are risking their lives every day. It’s quite possible you will be there when the invasion comes, if not on this assignment then on another. If captured, you know the rules: Deny all knowledge of other members of the network and the SOE . Hold out twenty-four hours before divulging any information so your contacts will know something is wrong and have time to destroy incriminating evidence and save themselves.” Miss Atkins barely paused; she must have given the same instructions to other agents many times.
    Could Noor resist for twenty-four hours? Of course she could. And they’d never catch her to begin with. And it was torture to be safe in England. And now to have this rare chance to be nearer to Armand, somehow get a message to him …
    Out loud Noor asked, “Do members of the Resistance completely support the return of General de Gaulle, as the BBC says?”
    “Pish, de Gaulle! Vichy court-martialled him
in absentia
for desertion, yet the BBC calls him General. He’s not an elected head of state, after all.”
    To be court-martialled by Vichy sounded like an accolade. That Miss Atkins, weather vane of official opinion, was so disparaging could mean that General Charles de Gaulle wasn’t as compliant as Mr. Churchill would like foreign leaders to be. His voice on the BBC, though—so inspiring. De Gaulle ran his own resistance networks too, the Free French.
    “Miss Atkins, why have some French refugees joined the SOE and some the Free French?”
    “Contacts, mostly. It’s not always a matter of choice. If you ask me, de Gaulle’s Free French are a ragtag lot, given far too much importance.”
    “Ragtag because they’ve lost everything,” said Noor. “But they do inspire me, and each other. I mean people like Jean Moulin and others who refused to collaborate with the Germans.”
    “Oh, be very careful to use Moulin’s
nom de guerre
—Max—in France. He’s larger than life to the French resistants, perhaps larger than de Gaulle or his General Delestraint—but we don’t mention that. He could become France’s next president, if Mr. Churchill and Mr. Roosevelt so decide.”
    Miss Atkins pushed her chair back. Noor rose too.
    “If you have a choice, the SOE is far more attractive. General de Gaulle doesn’t have state coffers at his disposal to fund his little projects in France, you know. Anyway, your allegiance is to England and the SOE , my dear. But we do co-operate with the Free French. When we have to.”
    “Yes, marm.”
    The waiter