Wolfsangel by Liza Perrat Page A

Emmanuel began pacing about the kitchen as I set the pails on the tiles and started brewing coffee.
    ‘Sister Marie-Félicité has faith in you,’ he said. ‘She convinced me you can be trusted.’
    ‘Yes, you can rely on me.’ I placed two cups of coffee on the table, his agitated pacing making me more edgy. ‘Sit down, please, Father.’
    ‘The Gestapo have arrested the others too –– Olivier, Marc Dutrottier and André Copeau,’ he said, as he took a sip of the ersatz coffee. ‘Incredibly, Gaspard Bénédict escaped. Nobody can understand how the boy managed to get away.’
    ‘Do you know where they are, Father?’
    ‘Your mother is being held in Saint Paul-Saint Joseph prison in Lyon. We don’t yet know where they took your brother and the others. Etienne and I are waiting for word from our city contacts.’ He swallowed more of the chicory coffee. ‘And you do understand this family in your attic is in mortal danger? We’re yet to discover who, but someone informed the Gestapo about your brother’s group.’
    Someone. Martin Diehl?
    ‘The Germans have marked L’Auberge des Anges as a Resistance centre,’ the priest went on. ‘They didn’t find the Wolfs this time, but they may have heard about them hiding here. They will come back, and eventually they’ll discover them.’
    ‘What can we do then, Father?’
    ‘As your sister told you, we’ll move them to the convent urgently. As you know, there are others like the Wolfs at the Valeria convent, people whom the Reverend Mother has welcomed. The nuns will integrate the little girl into their classes. The father will work as a gardener, while the mother can cook for the students and the nuns. All under assumed identities, of course.’
    He drained his coffee. ‘We’re taking them tonight, in Etienne’s car. Let’s just pray the Gestapo don’t stop him and search the car. Now not a word about this to anyone, Céleste … not even to Miette and Ghislaine. Nobody.’
    ‘I know how to hold my tongue,’ I said, breaking off hunks of bread and goat’s cheese.
    ‘It’s dangerous work,’ he said. ‘You’re young …’
    I forced the food down, past the sour liquid rising in my throat, and pushed the bread and cheese across the table to Père Emmanuel. ‘I’ve just turned twenty, Father, quite old enough. I won’t let you down. Or my family and friends.’
    ***
    ‘Everyone in place?’ Dr. Laforge said, his thick brows knotting into a single line above his black eyes. In the pale dusk light we all shivered on the cobbles of L’Auberge courtyard: the doctor, the priest, the Wolf family and I. My nostrils flared with the autumn chill that smelled of old capsicums and mown grass and reminded me I’d soon have to put the animals inside for winter. With Maman and Patrick gone, I would have to think of everything.
    ‘Yes, everyone should be in position,’ Père Emmanuel said. ‘Only Céleste to go. I’ve posted two lookouts at each junction,’ he said. ‘At any sign of German vehicles along the route, the lookout will cycle to the next post and pass the message on, and so forth, until it reaches us here.’
    For my first Resistance job –– besides my secret German officer mission –– the doctor had delegated me as lookout at the junction of the Lucie road and the main départementale, which he would take to drive the Wolfs to Félicité’s convent.
    Max Wolf clamped his large hand in his daughter’s small one. In the other, he held an old suitcase of my mother’s, containing a change of clothes, basic toiletries, a few toys, books and his art supplies: the sum of the family possessions. Bunched up in her coat and trying to hide her fearful eyes, Sabine held Jacob close to her breast, the little boy gripping his soldier with the red coat.
    ‘Ready, Céleste?’ Dr. Laforge said. ‘You’re clear what to do?’
    I nodded, rubbing my gloved hands together, my breath forming jets of fog. Despite my fear and anguish for the boys and