No Regrets: A Novel of Love and Lies in World War II England (The Thornton Trilogy Book 1) (2 page)

“Elise. This is beautiful. I’ll treasure it. I’ll keep it next to my heart. I’ll always remember your kindness. I’ll always remember
you
, Elise. You’ll be in my thoughts and prayers.”

She looked down at the floor and blushed. Her long lashes nearly touched her cheeks.

“I’ll remember you too, Lieutenant. What a strange conversation. I don’t even know your name.” She paused. “God speed and travel safely. I’ll pray for you.”

“I’m sorry. My name is Sloan. It’s an old family name,” he answered. He couldn’t take his eyes from her exquisite face and was concentrating on memorizing her features.

“Thank you so much for your help. Until we meet again,” he murmured, kissing her hand.

She looked at him, and their eyes met. Sloan knew he’d never forget her expression. Those stunning features sent desire through his heart.

“I shall see you again, Elise. There’s no question about that. Please remember me with fondness, and keep safe.” Then, he paused. Placing his arms round her, pulled her close and kissed her passionately. She was taken aback, but the emotion was so strong, she kissed him in return. Then, quickly turning, Sloan limped toward the entrance. He would have given anything to stay, or to take her with him.

Elise stood in the doorway, watching him go.

“Sloan,” she murmured to herself. “Sloan.” She felt exceedingly sad.

She would remember his name.

Soon after Sloan limped from the farmhouse, there was a second knock at Elise’s door. She hesitated a moment, thinking perhaps the handsome Lieutenant had come back. Gingerly opening it a bit, she peered out. Three burley, intoxicated Nazis forced their way inside. They reeked of Schnapps and were boisterous. Speaking French badly, they shouted at her.

“You’re in serious trouble. As representatives of the Third Reich, we’re here to enforce the law. You’ve aided and abetted the enemy. We saw an English airman leave this house. Do you know the penalty for such a crime?”

“I did nothing wrong. I couldn’t send him away. He was wounded by your guns. I bandaged his leg and sent him on his way. Anyway, you have no jurisdiction over me. I’m a French citizen,” Elise stood taller and tried to keep her composure.

“We’re taking control of this area. Soon we’ll rule all of France. The English airman should have been turned in to the Bergues police,” shouted one of the brutes. They all had swastikas on their shoulders. “You’ll pay for this,” he went on.

Elise didn’t know what to believe. She’d heard nothing about the Germans having seized control of France, or even her Province. But what good would arguing do?

“I couldn’t turn him in. I have no telephone in this house. I thought the best thing was to give him aid and ask him to leave.”

“You were wrong, and you’ll pay.”

“What are you going to do to me?” Elise asked, trembling.

“We’ll mete out your punishment ourselves. Be glad we aren’t going to send you to an internment camp.”

“What are you going to do to me?” Elise repeated.

“Come,” said another of the men – a blonde, heavyset swine. “Follow me,” he demanded, making his way toward the stairway.

“No. I’ll not willingly go up those stairs with you,” she answered firmly. Were they only trying to frighten her? Were they lying about her having broken the law?

“Then we’ll take care of you here,” shouted the third man, who was clearly, very, drunk.

He threw Elise onto the floor, and then, one by one, the disgusting creatures had their way with her. She’d never been touched by a man before, and what they did was savagery. First one, and then another ravaged her body, while two stood, watching and cheering. She was screaming and sobbing, but they had no empathy. On and on it went, until Elise wished she were dead. She willed her mind to a different place, hovering outside of her body, as if the assault were happening to somebody else. Finally, the attack ended. They buttoned their uniform pants and left. The last one out of the door kicked her in the ribs. She’d heard their names – Dieter, Wolfgang, and Pieter. She even knew which was which, if the time ever came to identify them. But what good could that do? They wouldn’t be punished.

She lay on the floor, bleeding and weeping. It was inconceivable that such a thing had happened. Just an hour before she’d been sipping coffee with a kind Englishman, and now she’d been mauled by disgusting, filthy Nazis. She’d never feel clean again. Slowly, she stood. Her legs were shaking. She felt faint. All that mattered was being able to soak in a tub - to wash away the remnants of her attackers. She climbed the staircase, holding tightly to the banister, pulling herself from step to step. At last, she reached the top, unsteadily making her way to the toilet. She stripped off her clothing, mostly in tatters, and threw everything into the waste. When the bath was ready, Elise stepped into the tub, letting herself sink into the warm water. She was in shock and was terribly frightened. If she remained in the house, the three monsters might return. She had to leave. But where could she go? Scrubbing herself until nearly raw, Elise formulated a plan. When the water began to cool, she stood, dried herself and left the bath, walking in the direction of her brother’s room.

Sorting through his clothing, she found everything she needed - one of his caps, a pair of over-all’s he’d outgrown, a shirt and a jacket. Her own riding boots would suffice. Elise also packed a small bag – just enough for a few changes of clothing after she arrived in England. Having gathered all of the items, she took them to her own room and dressed. Pinning her hair into a knot, she tucked it beneath Josef’s beret. When everything was complete, she looked into the mirror. If one didn’t look too closely, she could pass for a male refugee. Darkness had fallen, and that was an advantage. If she could make it to the beaches, Elise was certain she’d be able to board one of the watercraft plucking people from the sand and water. It didn’t matter if it was discovered that she was a woman once on British soil. Her camouflage was only necessary to prevent being accosted while in France. She moved outside to the yard and removed the dirt covering a hole. Josef had dug it, near the small stable. He’d hidden money and valuables there. Elise removed everything, and put it into a bag. Glancing toward the road, she saw that it was less crowded than it had been earlier. There were still many people, but the throng had thinned quite a bit. Then, she thought of her brother. What if he returned and found her missing? Shouldn’t she tell someone her plan? Thinking for a moment, she ran to the farm adjacent to her own. An elderly lady lived there with her husband. Knocking on the door, she waited impatiently for a response. Brigitte, the owner of the farm, opened the door. When she saw Elise, dressed as she was, her hand flew to her heart, and she looked astonished.

“What in the world....”

“I know I look strange, Brigitte. I haven’t time to explain. Something dreadful has happened. I’m going to try to get aboard one of the ships in the Channel and escape to England. I have to get away from here. I only wanted to let you know. If my brother should return, he won’t know what’s become of me. Please tell him where I’ve gone. “

“What – what’s happened? Why are you leaving in such a rush?” Brigitte asked.

“Three German beasts crashed through my doorway. Need I say more? I was assaulted. It was the worst experience of my life. I have to leave. What if they come back? They may even tell their mates that a young woman is living alone at the farmhouse. I know it’s supposed to be strictly forbidden for German soldiers to assault French women – in fact, the penalty is hanging – but what woman in her right mind would take the chance of reporting such swine to the police? I don’t trust the authorities. I’d be terrified. And, of course, the monsters would deny everything anyway.”

“Yes, yes, of course. I understand. Oh, God help us. What next? You poor girl. Is there nothing I can do to help you?”

“No. Nothing. Just watch for my brother. Oh, and please take my horse, Sasha. She’s in the stable. You can take anything you want from the house, too. Now, I have to go. Pray I can board one of the vessels rescuing soldiers and refugees.”

“Elise. When you reach England, go to Brighton. It isn’t far from Dover. I have a dear friend who operates a boarding house there. Her name is Violette Beaulieu. I haven’t seen her for years, but we knew each other in Paris, long ago. Give her my name. She’ll help you. Can you remember that?”

“I can remember, yes. Violette Beaulieu. But where will I find her?”

“The name of her establishment is
Maison de Violette
. It’s on the beach. God bless you, my dear Elise. You’ll be in our prayers.”

Brigitte hugged her. Elise turned and ran toward the Dunkirk beaches.

***

She didn’t try to hide that she was a young lady. Although dressed in her brother’s clothing, Elise knew her voice would give her away. But, she didn’t advertise it either. She didn’t expect to speak often, and her appearance blended with the multitude of others standing on the beaches, or wading into the water. Miraculously, it was only a short while before she was picked up by a large fishing trawler. Rescued people were packed in like sardines. There were about fifty others, but she found a corner and curled up, keeping to herself. Guns were being fired from Luftwaffe planes circling above, but because it was dark outside, there were less than there’d been earlier. What was, in reality, a rather short crossing, seemed to take forever.

Finally the vessel docked at Dover, and she set foot on English soil. She was so overcome with relief that tears fell from her eyes. Thank God she could speak English. That would make it much easier to navigate. People were being guided to trains. She boarded one intended for Brighton Beach, which she learned was less than 100 miles. It was very dark outside, as she climbed up the steps and entered the carriage. She pondered what to do about changing her clothing. Arriving at the boarding house dressed in such an odd way would look very strange. The answer was obvious. She stood, grasping her small valise, and made her way to the ladies’ toilet. As the train rocked to and fro, she quickly took a frock from her bag. She stripped off her brother’s clothing. Next came the boots, which would have to be abandoned, since there was no place to stow them. She had packed two pair of shoes -white sandals and black, patent slippers. The sandals would be fine with the floral print of the sleeveless chemise. Elise knew Brighton was a beach town, so the clothing would blend in perfectly. Looking in the tiny mirror, she saw that her hair was a snarled mess. There was a small brush in her bag, and she ran it through the tanged curls. They were damp from the sea breeze. Brushing the locks up into a knot, she secured them with a clip. She looked a bit more presentable. She stuffed the male clothing into the waste bin and set the boots under the sink. Perhaps someone would find them and put them to good use. Returning to her seat, Elise settled in, pretending to read a periodical someone had left behind. She was much too anxious to concentrate upon anything, except arriving at her destination.

When the conductor called out, “Brighton, next stop,” she gathered her bag and walked to the front of the car. She waited until it came to a complete stop, and then exited the train. She felt confused about which way to go. Looking right and left, Elise tried to gauge if there was one area that looked more populated than another. There were lights on both sides. A porter on the station platform asked if he could be of assistance.

“Yes, please. Can you tell me where
Maison de Violette’s
is located?”

“
Maison de Violette’s
? Are you certain that’s where you want to go?” he asked.

“Oui. Yes. I’ve come from France to stay there.”

“You look like such a nice girl,” he replied.

“Of course I’m a nice girl. Please, just tell me where I can find
Madame Violette’s
.”

“All right,” he answered, rather sullenly. “Go to the walkway to the right.” He pointed in that direction. “Keep walking until you come to the buildings. Go past the old chain pier. The house is painted lavender. There’s a sign. I’d say it’s ten or twelve houses down the beach.”

“Thank you so much. You’ve been a great help.”

He nodded his head and abruptly turned away. His manner surprised Elise. Were all of the people in Brighton so unfriendly? Finding the walkway, she began her trek. Counting the buildings, while moving along, a pretty, lavender house came into view. It was just as the man had described. Three stories, with lights in most of the windows, vines climbed the sides. Elise was almost certain they were morning glories. “What an enchanting place,” she thought to herself. There was a white picket fence surrounding the front, with a lovely arbor over the gate. Unlatching the gate, she approached the doorway. Music and laughter could be heard. The boarders must have been having a party. Rapping gently, Elise waited. It wasn’t long before the door was opened by a platinum-haired, sophisticated-looking woman.

“Are you by chance Violette Beaulieu?” Elise asked.

“Yes. Who, may I ask, are you?”

“My name is Elise Lisak. I’ve come from France. My neighbour, Brigitte Meursault, told me where to find you. She said you would give me a room and protection.”

“Ah, my old friend Brigitte. I haven’t heard from her in a long while. We knew each other as innocent girls in Paris. Do come inside. Forgive the loud noise. Sometimes my house becomes a bit unruly.”

Elise followed the woman inside. She was dressed in deep lilac and wore a necklace of large amethysts, with matching drop earrings. Elise could see, in the light, that Madame Violette was quite lovely. The room adjacent to the entry was filled to over-flowing with young men and lovely, youthful ladies. They were all dressed in elaborate evening wear. A tune was playing on the Victrola, and couples were dancing very close to one another. It was the strangest boarding house Elise had ever seen. Violette took her to a small room, resembling an office, although it was decorated with purple velvet chairs and wallpaper with violets scattered upon it. She motioned for Elise to sit in one of the gilt-edged chairs.

“So. Brigitte suggested that you come to me? You’re certainly a stunning creature. I’m sure you have the potential to increase my profits considerably. Have you any experience?” she asked.

“Experience? Living in a boarding house? No Madam. I have escaped from France because of the Germans. I had my own home, shared with my brother. I was forced to leave. I was - I was assaulted by a group of Nazi soldiers – right in my own home. I was frightened they might return. I went to the beaches at Dunkirk and joined the refugees. Before I left, I spoke with my neighbour, Brigitte. She told me she knew you and that you had a house in Brighton.”

“She said nothing else?”

“Just that she was certain you would offer me refuge.”