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that the dwellings being built in its place were houses.

‘I met up with some of my comrades who fought with me in the Maquis,’ Thomas said that evening. ‘I asked them if they had heard of a woman in any of the other resistance cells called Simone who was captured by the Gestapo and imprisoned at Saint-Gaudens. One of the guys said he knew of a Resistance woman called Simone, but he didn’t know how we would find her because Simone was her code name, not her real name. He didn’t know the surname she used, so we’ll have to go the long route,’ he said, ‘via Mauzac.’

‘We?’ Claire said.

‘Yes. The guy who brought Alain to Paris in forty-four was going to take you to Saint-Gaudens, but he is about to become a father, again, and his wife threatened to leave him if he didn’t stay at home and look after their other children.’

‘I don’t blame her,’ Claire said. ‘But what about your work, Thomas? Isn’t the university term about to start? Won’t it be difficult to get time off?’

‘Yes, the new term begins next week. But I don’t have any one-to-one tutorials for a while and my lectures are being covered by my assistant. He’s younger and better looking than me, so the female students will be happy.’ Claire looked at Thomas in the soft light of the Marron’s sitting room and thought his assistant must be very special to look at if he was better looking than Thomas Durand. ‘So, the sooner we go the sooner we’ll be back. We’ll set off early tomorrow morning. Claire?’

‘Sorry?’ She felt her cheeks colour. She had been thinking about silly things instead of listening.

‘Tomorrow. Saint-Gaudens is near Mauzac, we’ll leave tomorrow.’

When they had finished eating and the dishes had been cleared, Thomas and Auguste spread a map of France across the table. ‘Saint-Gaudens, where the Gestapo prison was, looks big enough to have at least one hotel where we can stay,’ Thomas said.

Auguste leaned over the table and studied the map. ‘The other places around are no more than hamlets.’ He gave a short sharp whistle. ‘It is a nine-hour drive to Mauzac, maybe longer, and then another half an hour along country roads to Saint-Gaudens.’

‘It’s a heck of a drive. Are you sure it wouldn’t be better if we went by train?’ Claire asked, when she and Antoinette brought in the coffee. She put the tray down on a side table and looked over Thomas’s shoulder. ‘Look! Périgueux,’ she said, scrutinising the map, ‘that’s where Mitch was taken first. Would it be possible to go to Périgueux and then to Mauzac by train?’

‘Anything is possible. But I thought we were hoping to follow the route Alain took when he escaped from the prison at Saint-Gaudens. What would we do if one of the small towns, or a village at the foot of the Pyrenees, didn’t have a railway station?’

Claire frowned. She hadn’t thought the travel arrangements through properly. ‘Mm… In that case, we’ll drive down to southwestern France. We’ll take it in turn to drive.’ Thomas raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘I drive every day in England. I’ve driven in Canada, too,’ she said, which was true. She had driven in Canada once.

‘It was on a busy three-lane freeway.’ She waited for Thomas to show signs of being impressed. He didn’t, so she carried on. ‘We will take regular breaks. Vierzon, or Châteauroux, and again at Limoges, Montaurban, or Cahors,’ she said, pointing to towns on the map that they would be driving through.

‘To get to the prison at Périgueux it will take six hours, maybe longer, then it will take another four hours at least to get to Mauzac,’ Thomas said, with doubt in his voice.

‘We won’t go to Périgueux, then,’ Claire said. ‘He wasn’t there long before they moved him to the prison at Saint-Gaudens. It’s who he knew while he was there and what happened after he escaped that we’re interested in.’

While they drank their coffee they discussed the journey. Thomas and Auguste found the quickest route to Mauzac, and because Auguste and Antoinette had been to the Pyrenees on holiday they were able to recommend good cafés and restaurants where Claire and Thomas could stop and eat to break their journey. They also knew a couple of hotels where they could stay overnight if necessary.

Thomas needed to fill up the car with petrol and left the Marron house promising to be back the following morning at six o’clock. Claire walked him to the door. Before he left she took twenty francs from her pocket. ‘For the petrol,’ she said. But Thomas refused to take her money.

‘Keep your money,’ Thomas said, ‘we don’t know how much this jaunt will cost altogether.’ Before Claire had time to protest Thomas was out the door and halfway down the steps. Waving him goodbye, Claire returned the money to her purse.

‘Thomas wouldn’t let me pay for the petrol, or even make a contribution towards it. I can’t let him spend his money on me,’ Claire confided to Antoinette.

‘He was being chivalrous. Give it to him when the two of you are on the road. He’ll take it then.’

Refusing a nightcap, Claire asked her friends to excuse her. She felt tired and wanted an early night. She also wanted to pack her suitcase for the morning. She took a plate of sandwiches up to her room, put it on the bedside table, and looked through the wardrobe. The weather forecast on the wireless earlier said France should prepare for a big freeze.  So, as she had no idea how long she’d be away, or how many changes of clothes she’d need, she packed everything she had brought with her from England.

When she had finished she sat on the bed and contemplated the coming days. The nerves on the top of

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