Greta smiled. “Why can’t he be like you?”
Flick shrugged. “Men,” she said with a grin. “Now, are you ready to try faffing from a standing position? We’ll do it the same way, holding hands.”
She took Greta through all the exercises Bill was doing with the others. Greta quickly gained confidence. They returned to the group. The others were jumping off the table. Greta joined in and landed perfectly, and they gave her a round of applause.
They progressed to jumping from the top of the wardrobe, then finally the stepladder. When Jelly jumped off the ladder, rolled perfectly, and stood upright, Flick hugged her. “I’m proud of you,” she said. “Well done.”
Bill looked disgusted. He turned to Percy. “What the hell kind of army is it when you get a hug for doing what you’re bloody well told?”
“Get used to it, Bill,” said Percy.
CHAPTER 18
AT THE TALL house in the rue du Bois, Dieter carried Stephanie’s suitcase up the stairs and into Mademoiselle Lemas’s bedroom. He looked at the tightly made single bed, the old-fashioned walnut chest of drawers, and the prayer stool with the rosary on its lectern. “It’s not going to be easy to pretend this is your house,” he said anxiously, putting the case on the bed.
“I’ll say I’ve inherited it from a maiden aunt, and I’ve been too lazy to fix it up to my taste,” she said.
“Clever. All the same, you’ll need to mess it up a little.”
She opened the case, took out a black negligee, and draped it carelessly over the prayer stool.
“Better already,” Dieter said. “What will you do if the phone rings?”
Stephanie thought for a minute. When she spoke, her voice was lower, and her high-class Paris accent had been replaced by the tones of provincial gentility. “Hello, yes, this is Mademoiselle Lemas, who is calling, please?”
“Very good,” said Dieter. The impersonation might not fool a close friend or relative, but a casual caller would notice nothing wrong, especially with the distortion of a telephone line.
They explored the house. There were four more bedrooms, each ready to receive a guest, the beds made up, a clean towel on each washstand. In the kitchen, where there should have been a selection of small saucepans and a one-cup coffee pot, they found large casserole dishes and a sack of rice that would have fed Mademoiselle Lemas for a year. The wine in the cellar was cheap viii ordinaire, but there was half a case of good scotch whisky. The garage at the side of the house contained a little prewar Simca Cinq, the French version of the Fiat the Italians called the Topolino. It was in good condition with a tank full of petrol. He cranked the starting handle, and the engine turned over immediately. There was no way the authorities would have allowed Mademoiselle Lemas to buy scarce petrol and spare parts for a car to take her shopping. The vehicle must have been fueled and maintained by the Resistance. He wondered what cover story she had used to explain her ability to drive around. Perhaps she pretended to be a midwife. “The old cow was well organized,” Dieter remarked.
St‚phame made lunch. They had shopped on the way. There was no meat or fish in the shops, but they had bought some mushrooms and a lettuce, and a loaf of pain noir, the bread the French bakers made with the poor flour and bran, which was all they could get. Stephanie prepared a salad, and used the mushrooms to make a risotto, and they found some cheese in the larder to finish off With crumbs on the dining room table and dirty pans in the kitchen sink, the house began to look more lived in.
“The war must have been the best thing that ever happened to her,” Dieter said as they drank coffee.
“How can you say that? She’s on her way to a prison camp.”
“Think of the life she led before. A woman alone, no husband, no family, her parents dead. Then into her life come all these young people, brave boys and girls on daredevil missions. They probably tell her all about their loves and their fears. She hides them in her house, gives them whisky and cigarettes, and sends them on their way, wishing them luck. It was probably the most exciting time of her life. I bet she’s never been so happy.”