War Girls Box Set

Chapter 11

The day had taken a toll on Lotte and despite the time being barely past ten p.m., exhaustion flooded her system. She would be a total wreck the next day if she didn’t grab some shuteye.

People with sharp brains tend to live longer, that’s what her brother Richard had used to say when she teased him for sticking his nose into a book instead of jumping into some crazy adventure with her. For once, she hated to admit, he’d been right. She needed all her wits about if she was to come out of this situation unscathed.

People with sharp brains tend to live longerNostalgia attacked her and with it the longing for her family and that precious time before the war shattered their lives and ripped them apart. The very real possibility of dying alone in a country that was not her own hit her square across the chest and she had to hold on to the table to stabilize herself.

“Are you alright?” Gerlinde asked, concern etched into her face.

“Yes, yes, but I should get home.” Woodenly, Lotte slipped on her coat and buttoned it up. Right in this moment she had little hope of ever seeing her family again. Not only had Lina been arrested, but also it seemed her new contact Harald had met the same fate.

The only thing she could do was to leave the scene of her crimes and return to the barracks, acting as if nothing had happened and she’d never been a spy for the Tommies.

“Come on, we have forty-five minutes left until we need to be home,” Gerlinde said with a disappointed look on her face, as she made to get up and go with her.

“Nonsense, you stay and have fun,” Lotte replied. “I’ll find my way home, and I’m sure one of the men will see you safely back to the garrison.”

Nobody around the table protested, as everyone wanted to make the most of the time until curfew. Gerlinde waved one arm at Lotte and told her, “Sleep well.”

“I will,” Lotte lied. How could she even pretend to sleep when she feared the military police lurking around every corner? She yearned to leave the crowded bar with its dense fog of cigarette smoke and earsplitting noise. Once outside, the shock of silence and the blast of fresh air revived her spirits. Maybe not all was lost and she would live another day.

The streets were empty, even as the tiniest trace of light illuminated the sky, a foreboding of the endless nights of the North that would begin in less than four weeks. But she had no patience to admire the beauty of the scenery. Instead, she furtively glanced around for Harald, in the irrational hope he might be waiting for her outside.

As she should have expected, he was nowhere in sight. But neither was the military police. Relief flooded her system, and she took a deep breath of the fresh air coming in from the sea. During the winter time in Stavanger she’d learned to hate the salty, damp air that crept into clothes and bones, making one defenseless against the chill cutting deep into skin and body. But now, in spring, the breeze was a welcome refresher, breathing the hope of better times around every corner.

Everyone knew the war was lost and peace just a stone’s throw away. Better times would come, she was sure of it. Just when? Would it be too late for her? She forced the depressing thoughts from her mind, pushed her hands deep into her pockets and sensed the chewed remains of a pencil through the material of the coat. Scorching heat trickled through her as she held onto the suspicious implement, reminding her that the evidence of her treason was still shoved up her left sleeve. In her hurry to flee the bar, she’d forgotten to get rid of it and flush it down the toilet. If anyone found her with the codes there would be hell to pay.

She nervously ducked her head between her shoulders and walked toward the coastline, where the garrison was located, until she heard a low whistle. She stopped to listen, but only the silence of the night echoed back and the distant crashing of waves against the rugged Norwegian coast. Her imagination must be playing tricks on her.

Lotte quickened her pace, balling her hands into fists and huddling them deeper into her coat pockets. Then she heard it again. A distinct whistle. Soft and low, but a definite whistle nonetheless. She stopped again and slowly turned around, scrutinizing the area beyond. A tall person stood hidden in the shadow of one of the houses lining the street.

She hesitated, since she couldn’t make out the identity of the person. It might be a trap. Or it might be Harald. Her heart hammered loud enough to block out any other sound and she fought with herself over what to do next. Then, the person stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight, and she recognized him. Her knees all but buckled and she wanted to scold him for giving her such a fright.

Casually she walked toward his position. Harald didn’t speak. He simply reached out and took her elbow, pulling her into the shadows with him. There was no need for subterfuge since nobody was around to witness this charade, but still, he took great care not to be seen during their illicit business of exchanging the codes. And for this, she was grateful.

Wordlessly she handed over the toilet paper and just as silently, he accepted it. A heavy burden fell from her shoulders the moment she saw the grayish piece of paper in his hands. If someone caught them in this instance, it wasn’t she who’d be on the hook for her betrayal. From now on it was his mission to keep the evidence from being discovered.

“How will I contact you again?” Lotte asked and felt foolish the moment the words were out.

“Come by the bar every week with the new codes,” he replied, looking ahead as if he wanted to bolt. “The bartender you saw today is one of us. He’s been instructed.”

“Bar Boca?” She looked at him and he shrugged. “So, I’m to hand over the codes to the bartender, not you?” She had to be sure.

“Yes.” He led her out of the shadows, but the moment they emerged, she heard the loud voices of passersby and realized they would be seen. Innocent bar-goers might be the owners of the voices – or military police that patrolled the streets day and night.

Lotte sent a quick prayer of thanks toward heaven that she’d had the foresight to change out of her uniform, because in her civilian clothes she might pass for a regular Norwegian girl walking home with her friend. But a moment of shock later she realized it was well after curfew for the local population and they would no doubt be stopped and interrogated. How should she explain that she was out and about with a Norwegian man at night?

Harald, though, pulled his wits about him like a coat of armor – perhaps he simply had more practice with this kind of situation – and pushed her against the wall, wrapping his strong arms around her and covering her mouth with a passionate kiss.

Her first instinct was to fight his assault, but on second thought she changed her mind. It was the perfect cover for them. Military police wouldn’t interrupt kissing lovers, as they had better things to do.

Pressed with her back against the cold wall and her front against Harald’s warm body, she glimpsed the street behind his back and saw two German MPs walking toward them. Terrified, she closed her eyes again and found herself responding feverishly to Harald’s kiss.

She got caught up so much in the heat of the moment, spurred on by the sheer will to live, that she barely registered the two MPs laughing and offering vulgar advice to the man holding her in his embrace.

The moment the officers moved on without bothering them, Harald broke the kiss and said, “That was close.”

It definitely was, much too close for her liking, and in more ways than one. Glad not to have his lips on her anymore, imposing their will on her, a strange sadness ripped through her body at the same time. It had been such an exhilarating sensation to be wrapped up safely in his arms, to feel his warm and strong body pressed against her. To not feel so alone. She could still sense the pressure and taste of his mouth and wondered how to cope with that disconcerting feeling.

“We should get going,” Harald said casually, dusting off his jacket vigorously as if he wanted to erase any traces of her. He turned and walked away into the night. No smile, no thank you, no goodnight. What a cad! And what a kisser!

Lotte touched her swollen lips with remorse. She hadn’t wanted this kiss, hadn’t even asked for it, but much to her dismay, she’d enjoyed it. A kiss from a man who wasn’t her dearest Johann. How could she have behaved in such a shameful way? Hadn’t they both sworn faithfulness to each other the day she’d stepped onto the train taking her away from him?

The end justifies the means, and I kissed him only to stay alive. Johann would understand. But deep in her heart she feared he might not and decided to bury this little secret in her soul. Along with so many other secrets she carried around, not daring to let any of them ever see the light of day.

The end justifies the means, and I kissed him only to stay alive. Johann would understand.