How Far Would You Go For Your Country

How Far Would You Go For Your Country?- Chapter 9

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13th October, 1944

The next day Lily arrived at Lulu's business. Much to her surprise, it wasn't the dilapidated, seedy shack she'd imagined it to be in her head. It was actually a very large two-storey house, hidden off of the main drag in the forest, presumably to remain inconspicuous. Lulu had given her the keys to a small room in the back of the attic, where she could set up her radio equipment.

Lily sat behind the desk in the front parlour. A brothel with a kind of check-in desk, she couldn't help but be amused at the idea. The room, which she supposed was her office as of now, consisted of two-seater sofas, a chaise longue and a makeshift bar, stacked high with various bottles. Sighing, she reached up to touch her newly unfamiliar hair. That morning, Lulu had insisted she change it, dying it darker and rolling it into tight curls. She had said that change in appearance would help Lily embrace her alter ego better, plus that it couldn't hurt to fit in a bit more with the French style. Though she actually quite liked it, it was hard to get used to.

"Where are the girls?" she blurted out, interrupting Lulu's attempts to explain what her "duties" here would be.

Lulu sighed, throwing her hands into the air in despair. "This girl won't listen. They are on their daily walk. Every day I send my girls out for a walk to collect firewood everyday, because fresh air is good for the complexion…and a pretty face is what keeps boys coming back again and again. May I continue please?"

"By all means," Lily smiled. "Just to confirm again, all the work I plan to do here will take place behind this desk and nowhere else in this house."

"But of course," Lulu rolled her eyes, amused. "I expected nothing less. The English always were a little prudish. However, it works out fine for me, as now I have a German-speaker who can collect together a list of information on the particular preferences and personal requests of clients."

"Personal requests?" she repeated back, confused. Suddenly it hit her. "Oh…never mind."

Lulu leaned over the desk towards her. "Customers might ask if you yourself would spend the night with them. I know what you're current reaction to that is, but the decision at that time would be up to you. But you know you'd get more information that way?"

Lily didn't respond and just looked down, disgusted with the suggestion.

"Either way, my cut is always 65, that's the house rule," Lulu continued, reaching over to a drawer on Lily's side of the desk. She opened it to reveal a vial of powder and a metal bar. "The bar is for self-defence, all of my girls have one nearby when working. The powder is a mild sleeping agent, to be mixed into drinks if we think a customer could be dangerous as the even progresses. We like to quell the problem without creating bruises where possible."

Pondering the prospect of hand-to-hand combat with a Nazi, Lily put her head down on the desk. "Why would a Nazi even consider paying for sex when, from what I've heard back home, they could just take it?"

"Many of them do. Rape is inevitable in any war." Lulu told her, shaking her head disapprovingly. "A lot of the lower-ranked officers like to have their fun. For them, thuggery is fun. Some, however, are slightly more moral in that they don't believe the uniform they wear entitles them to simply take sex when they want it, feeling, instead, that if they pay for it then they've earned the right to do whatever they wish with girls."

"That's a stupid logic," Lily spat out.

"Stupid, yes. Isn't it just. True nonetheless."

"What can you tell me about Isabelle Ferrier, the politician's daughter?" She asked, changing the subject.

Lulu's eyes filled with emotion. "Isabelle Ferrier was very important to the French Resistance. She had a love for her country that instilled a fearlessness in her of doing whatever it took to stop those who threatened it. She volunteered to secretly infiltrate the Nazi Headquarters in the area, information gathering and suchlike. Every second day, without fail, she'd deliver information back to us. One day the information just stopped coming. We waited and waited, but nothing. Then people stopped spotting her around town anymore. It was as though she just…vanished."

"How curious," Lily breathed, intrigued.

They were suddenly interrupted by the noise of excited chatter coming from the porch of the house.

"It's the girls," Lulu said, looking warningly at her. "Remember, only French from here on out."

The front door to the parlour burst open and six girls bounded in, arms stacked high with wood and chattering excitedly amongst themselves. They stopped talking when they caught sight of Lily, just staring at her. Lily stared back, noticing that each girl was beautiful but unique in her own way. There was a blonde, a brunette, a redhead, a raven-haired girl, a petite girl with exotic features and a larger-framed voluptuous girl. Catering to all tastes, Lily sniggered to herself.

Lulu introduced the girls as Barbara (the blonde), Aurélie (the brunette), Madeleine (the redhead), Odette (the raven-haired girl), Mathilde (the petite girl) and Sylvie (the voluptuous girl). "Girls, this is our new receptionist, Lily Lavoie."

They greeted her enthusiastically, all except one, Aurélie, who dumped her logs onto the pile by the fireplace, crossed her arms and looked her up and down icily. "Lily Lavoie?"

"Yes, that's right," Lily said, not liking neither this girl's tone nor her facial expression.

"Mon Dieu, what an accent," Aurélie said, accusingly. "I've never heard one like it before. How far into the west is this village of yours?"

"Quite far," Lily responded, listening to the girl's own accent. "You're not from around here. Paris, no?"

"Originally," she replied coldly. "Lulu took me in when I was 14, so I've been here a long time. That's why I was…surprised…to learn about this sudden far-off relative."

"Hush, Aurélie! I don't know everything about your life," Lulu tutted, shooting a warning look at the girl.

She backed down, annoyed. "Well…how does she even know German anyway, if this village is so remote?"

"My father used to work in Germany, actually," Lily replied, pointedly.

The two girls began to stare each other out, they're eyes burning into the others. Awkward tension filled the room, and everyone could feel it.

"Okay girls," Lulu clapped her hands together, trying to diffuse the situation. "We have a big night ahead, so all of you head upstairs and begin making yourselves look every inch the pretty girls you are."

The all shuffled out, leaving Lily alone and worried. The last thing she needed right now was someone who was already suspicious of her being here.

…………………………

That night was Lily's first evening on the job, as it were. She sat nervously behind her desk, looking out at the scene in front of her. Light jazz played from the gramophone as clouds of cigarette smoke rose up within. The girls chatted animatedly in one corner, except Aurélie, who sat in the corner next to an SS Officer, the two of them chatting intimately. Lily watched, intrigued, as the girl made blatant, flirtatious gestures towards her customer. She found it hard to get used to the idea of being in a room with a Nazi soldier.

"Compelling, isn't it?" Barbara, the blonde, said, sidling up to Lily at her desk.

"Who is he?" Lily asked, pointing to him.

"He is Aurélie's regular," Barbara explained, excited to be sharing gossip with someone who hadn't heard it before. "He only comes here for her, and they chat for a long time before moving on upstairs. He is besotted with her, even asked to take her to dinner one night, but Lulu would not hear of it. We mustn't associate with customers on our own time. Pity, he's very highly-ranked. His position is called Sturmbannführer. I don't know what it means but it's high up."

"It means he's a Unit Leader," Lily explained. "You say they talk for hours? What could they possibly have to talk about?"

"A lot of them like to talk first. I think they have a lot to get off of their minds and sometimes we're the only ones who will listen…for a price of course."

Suddenly the doorbell rang, followed by a stampede of SS uniforms piling into the room one after the other. The room suddenly burst alive into action.

"I better get to work, I have some regulars out there," Barbara said, winking at Lily. "Pour drinks for the ones who are waiting their turn."

"A new girl," A soldier observed, leaning on her desk and looking across at her. "Where are you from?"

"I'm a relative of Lulu's," she replied meekly in German. "I came here to work."

"You speak German," He replied, his eyes lighting up. "Very good. Do you…offer your services here, because if you do…"

"I just work the desk," she replied, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. "That's all, I'm afraid."

"Pity, I'll just have to do," Sylvie interrupted, winking at Lily as she lead the soldier away by the arm.

After about an hour, all of the girls had disappeared upstairs, leaving just her and one young soldier sitting alone in the parlour, with the music still blaring away. They avoided eye contact, an awkward silence in the room. She studied his face. He was muscly, handsome with a kind-natured face. He couldn't have been more than 20 years old and had an innocence about his that suggested he'd never touched a girl in his whole life. He sat nervously in his chair, as though he'd rather have been anywhere else.

"Are you waiting for a particular girl?" She asked in German. "Because if not Mathilde is available upstairs."

He shook his head emphatically. "No, no. I'm not looking for a girl."

She nodded her head as silence filled the room once more. Silence, that is, until the noises of pleasure coming from above filtered down into the room. Lily raised her eyes in shock, her immediate reaction being to quickly cover her ears with her hands.

The soldier let out a snigger. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you'd never been in a brothel before in your life let alone worked in one."

"Is it that easy to tell?" She asked, putting her hands down again and letting out a giggle.

"Yes," he replied, smiling bashfully at her. "Your accent…are you German?"

"No," she shook her head, preparing to lie. "I studied there for three years…in Dusseldorf."

"I come from near Dusseldorf," his eyes lit up excitedly. "How does a student end up working in a brothel?"

"With war comes financial hardships," she said simply, brushing off the question.

"Tell me about it," he said, understandingly.

"So," she said, trying to keep things light. "So do you have a regular here? Are you just having a night off?"

"No," he shook his head. "I don't pay for the services here. I'm just the driver I'm afraid. Someone has to drive all of these soldiers back to the barracks when they're blind drunk."

"I suppose I shouldn't offer you a drink then if you're driving?"

"Well…," he reasoned. "I suppose one couldn't hurt. Beer, please."

She poured him his drink and sat next to him on the sofa, putting it down in front of him. "As long as I won't get into trouble for getting a respectable soldier drunk."

"Don't worry," he blushed. "With all of those soldiers, they won't notice one in particular. Besides, I don't get drunk easily."

"All of those soldiers?" She asked, interestedly leaning in towards him. A young SS member willing to talk without knowing any better on her first night. What luck. "Are there a lot of you? I haven't seen many soldiers around since I got here."

"Oh, a good few," he nodded. "At least 500."

"500," she repeated, shocked.

"More or less. We're stationed a few miles away,"

"Hence the need for the car," she giggled, playing along.

"OSKAR!" a shout in gruff German came through from the main hallway. "TIME TO GO!"

The two looked at each other, smiling.

"You're name is Oskar then, I take it?" she smiled. "I am Lily. Lily Lavoie."

"It was a pleasure to meet you," he took her hand and kissed it lightly. "Hopefully I will see you again."

"I'll be here," she said, indicating around the room and smiling at him.

He left, with the other soldiers in tow, with the sound of Lulu enthusiastically calling her goodbyes from the porch. After they'd driven away, she popped her head around the door to the parlour.

"How was your first night then?" she asked, all smiles.

"…interesting," Lily said honestly.

"I saw you talking to Oskar," she replied. "Did he say much?"

"A little bit," she replied. "He seems nice…for a Nazi."

"He is very nice," he nodded. "Just don't forget that that's what he is. A Nazi. Don't start asking too many questions right away or they'll get suspicious. You're new in town and the locals not in the Resistance will tell them that."

"What are you saying?" she asked, confused.

"Take it slowly, build a rapport before you start firing questions every which way," Lulu replied, stroking her arm. "The more they trust you the more they'll tell you. Anyway, Cherie, I must go to bed. I'm useless when I've had no sleep!"

After sending back the information she'd found she went straight to bed, pondering over her first day and night in an actual brothel. She decided Lulu was right. She wasn't going anywhere fast so she didn't need to find out everything at once. Trust was key issue here. It was vital that she lull them into her confidence. She decided there and then that she would spend the next few weeks getting to know the people here before probing them. Still, she couldn't help but think that, the longer she waited, the longer Isabelle Ferrier remained in danger…if she wasn't already dead, that is.

……………………

After a sleepless night, Lily got up early the next morning to make breakfast for the girls. She imagined their line of work to be very hunger-inducing.

"What's that smell?" Mathilde asked, wandering into the kitchen. "It smells delicious!"

" I thought I'd make breakfast for everyone," Lily turned, smiling at her. "I thought you'd all be hungry."

"We all always are, every morning," Mathilde laughed. "Ravenous."

"I should think so," she laughed.

Suddenly Mathilde excitedly gripped both sides of the sink as she strained to see out of the window. Lily glanced up absent-mindedly to see a figure making his way up the path.

"It's Christian!" the girl shouted out excitedly, turning on her heel and making for the stairs upstairs. "GIRLS, IT'S CHRISTIAN!"

The sound of a stampede ensued and as the knock sounded on the back door, all the girl appeared simultaneously in the kitchen, all of them flustered and excited. Smoothing down her hair, Madeleine opened the door to let the visitor in. In walked the tall, handsome, dark-haired men. Lily's jaw dropped. She recognised him instantly as the man who'd met her after her jump two days previously, put a bag over her head and dragged her to the Resistance Headquarters.

"Good Morning, Christian!" the girls cooed over him. Lily couldn't believe it. These girls saw so many different men all of the time and this one handsome man had them quivering like idiots.

"Good Morning, Ladies," Christian blushed, nodding to the girls. He held his hand out to Lily, pretending not to know her. "Salut, Madmoiselle. I am Christian."

"Lily Lavoie," she replied, giving him her hand which he promptly kissed. As she pulled away she could feel that he'd slipped a piece of paper into her hand, which she quickly placed in her pocket. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Christian is the milkman and the postman," Sylvie said, hanging lovingly onto his arm. "He brings them both for us every morning."

"And partly just to see all of you lovely ladies. My favourite ladies." he said, sending them into an excited frenzy. "Anyway, I must go, girls. See you all tomorrow."

"Bye Christian!" they chorused in unison, all eyes agog at the window until he'd disappeared from sight.

As the girls sat down at the table to eat the breakfast she'd made, Lily sneaked a look at the note from Christian. "MEET ME ROUND THE SIDE OF THE HOUSE IN TEN MINUTES".

"Excuse me, I'm just going to pop upstairs for a moment," she told them, leaving and slipping quietly out of the front door instead. Walking around the side, she saw Christian waiting for her, smoking a cigarette as he leaned back on his heels.

"Hello," she greeted him.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"Good thanks," she said, smiling at him. "It's not as bad as I thought it would be. Turns out the SS aren't as tight-lipped as I thought they'd be…thanks to alcohol."

"Alcohol will do that to anyone," he nodded, looking at her, concerned. "Be careful."

"I always am," she smiled at him reassuringly. "So…you're a postman and a milkman."

He nodded, taking a drag of his cigarette. "Yes. My brother used to be the milkman…but he's dead now."

"I'm sorry," she said, looking down.

"Don't worry about it," he smiled. "We'll get revenge for everyone and everything we've lost or will lose in this war. See you tomorrow."

"Bye," she called after him.

"By the way," he called, turning round to face her. "You suit your hair like that."

……………………….

22nd October, 1944- Holland

"Mail call," Private Vest called, moving down the bunks, tossing letters as he walked. "Mail call."

"Hey, Vest," Bill called, bleary-eyed as he heard Vest's calls coming from nearby. He rolled over on his bunk to face the Private. "Anything for me?"

"Uh…," Vest said, flicking through his pile. He pulled a letter out and threw it at him. "Here."

"Thanks, Buddy," Bill said, sitting upright to read it. He whooped and pumped his fist into the air when he saw the WAAF stamp on the front of it.

"What's that?" Toye asked, hopping over to Bill's bunk to look at the envelope.

"Don't be nosy," Bill scolded, trying to hide the letter from Joe's eyeline. "Just cos you didn't get a letter!"

"Hey is that the WAAF…," Joe said, clamping his hand over his mouth. "You wrote her, didn't you?!"

Bill sighed. "I know, I know. I said I was going to forget all about it. Don't bother with the lecture Joe, alright?"

"So why did you write to her then?" Joe teased.

"Well technically I sent it to her Ma, asking her to forward it to wherever she was stationed, cos I didn't know. I figured if it reached her and she wrote me back then I'd know for sure that I wasn't being silly and holding onto something that wasn't even there," Bill explained.

"Well, go on then open it. What did she say?" Joe asked, digging Bill in the ribs to hurry him in opening it.

Excited, Bill ripped at the envelope, shaking it for the letter to fall out. He was surprised when his original letter to her fell out, followed by a white sheet of paper. Confused he picked up the white sheet and read it:

We regret to inform you that no officer under the specified name exists within the Women's Auxiliary Air Force. We apologise for any inconvenience caused.

It was signed with the official WAAF insignia stamp.

"What the hell?" Bill whispered, reading the letter over again. "Doesn't exist within the WAAFs?"

"Well where is she then?" Joe asked, reading over his shoulder. "Maybe she lied about being with them."

"Nah, she was telling the truth," Bill nodded firmly. "I could tell."

"Maybe she's dead then," Joe pondered, putting his head to one side.

"Don't say that, Joe," Bill said, panicking for a second.

No, he reasoned, her job wasn't that dangerous. Where the hell was she?