It’s not far,” Jolie said. “You could cross the Channel to Bournemouth.”
“What about Rochelle? How soon will she be able to travel?”
“I would prefer to wait until she’s a hundred percent healthy,” Jolie said, “but I’ve given the matter a lot of thought today, and I think we’d better not. I think it would be best to leave as soon as possible—even tomorrow.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
A Slow Start
The morning of June tenth dawned bright and clear, and Tyler spent the morning solidifying his plan in his head and saying good-bye to the friends he had made during his stay in Ambert. After lunch he walked to the Vernay house, still thinking through his plan.
Marvel answered the door and welcomed him in, and when he went inside, he found Jolie listening to the radio. She looked up and said, “Bad news again.”
“More bad news? Are the Germans advancing faster?”
“No, but Italy has declared war on the Allies.”
“Italy!” Tyler exclaimed. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Marvel said, “that now the Germans will be coming from the north and the Italians will be coming up from the south.”
“All the more reason to leave right away, but first we must listen to Churchill’s speech. They’ve been saying all morning that he was going to make a speech and now it’s just coming on.”
Churchill began to speak in his gravelly voice, which was unfamiliar to Tyler. He listened as the prime minister laid out the problems that lay ahead for the British Empire, then concluded by saying:
“We shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air,we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender! In God’s good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old.”
Tyler listened intently and then looked up and said, “That man means what he says.”
“I wish,” Marvel said quietly, “that we had had a man like him in charge of our government in France.”
****
All three of the children were tremendously excited, Tyler saw, when the car pulled up in front of the Vernays’ house. One of the women who worked at the orphanage had offered to give them all a ride to the train station, and they had stopped off at the house to pick up Jolie and Tyler. Rochelle looked tired and sat fairly still in the middle of the backseat, but Damien and Yolande were bubbling with excitement, their hands flying out the open car windows. Damien pumped questions at Tyler faster than he could answer them. “Can I ride in the engine? Will it be a big train? How long will it take to get there?”
“Whoa there, young man,” Tyler said with a grin, “we’ll have to see about that.”
Marvel had followed Tyler and Jolie outside, her face fixed in a set mold. She spoke cheerfully enough, but it was obvious that she was worried.
Jolie embraced her mother. “I should be back sometime tomorrow. Don’t worry about me.”
“I won’t. You’ll be all right.”
Marvel made sure the children weren’t watching and then opened her handbag and pulled out a pistol. “I want you to take this,” she said as she pressed it into Tyler’s hand.
“But, Maman, we can’t take that,” Jolie insisted. “You may need it here.”
“I will feel better if you have it. Besides, you know it makes me nervous just to have it in the house.”
“All right, Maman, if you’re sure.”
Marvel reached up and pulled Tyler’s head down, kissing him on both cheeks.
“I don’t know how to thank you for all your hospitality,” he said.
“Don’t be foolish. After this war is over you must come back. By that time you will probably be a famous painter, but come
“What about Rochelle? How soon will she be able to travel?”
“I would prefer to wait until she’s a hundred percent healthy,” Jolie said, “but I’ve given the matter a lot of thought today, and I think we’d better not. I think it would be best to leave as soon as possible—even tomorrow.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
A Slow Start
The morning of June tenth dawned bright and clear, and Tyler spent the morning solidifying his plan in his head and saying good-bye to the friends he had made during his stay in Ambert. After lunch he walked to the Vernay house, still thinking through his plan.
Marvel answered the door and welcomed him in, and when he went inside, he found Jolie listening to the radio. She looked up and said, “Bad news again.”
“More bad news? Are the Germans advancing faster?”
“No, but Italy has declared war on the Allies.”
“Italy!” Tyler exclaimed. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Marvel said, “that now the Germans will be coming from the north and the Italians will be coming up from the south.”
“All the more reason to leave right away, but first we must listen to Churchill’s speech. They’ve been saying all morning that he was going to make a speech and now it’s just coming on.”
Churchill began to speak in his gravelly voice, which was unfamiliar to Tyler. He listened as the prime minister laid out the problems that lay ahead for the British Empire, then concluded by saying:
“We shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air,we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender! In God’s good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old.”
Tyler listened intently and then looked up and said, “That man means what he says.”
“I wish,” Marvel said quietly, “that we had had a man like him in charge of our government in France.”
****
All three of the children were tremendously excited, Tyler saw, when the car pulled up in front of the Vernays’ house. One of the women who worked at the orphanage had offered to give them all a ride to the train station, and they had stopped off at the house to pick up Jolie and Tyler. Rochelle looked tired and sat fairly still in the middle of the backseat, but Damien and Yolande were bubbling with excitement, their hands flying out the open car windows. Damien pumped questions at Tyler faster than he could answer them. “Can I ride in the engine? Will it be a big train? How long will it take to get there?”
“Whoa there, young man,” Tyler said with a grin, “we’ll have to see about that.”
Marvel had followed Tyler and Jolie outside, her face fixed in a set mold. She spoke cheerfully enough, but it was obvious that she was worried.
Jolie embraced her mother. “I should be back sometime tomorrow. Don’t worry about me.”
“I won’t. You’ll be all right.”
Marvel made sure the children weren’t watching and then opened her handbag and pulled out a pistol. “I want you to take this,” she said as she pressed it into Tyler’s hand.
“But, Maman, we can’t take that,” Jolie insisted. “You may need it here.”
“I will feel better if you have it. Besides, you know it makes me nervous just to have it in the house.”
“All right, Maman, if you’re sure.”
Marvel reached up and pulled Tyler’s head down, kissing him on both cheeks.
“I don’t know how to thank you for all your hospitality,” he said.
“Don’t be foolish. After this war is over you must come back. By that time you will probably be a famous painter, but come
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