Echoes

Colonel Montgomery needed to gather information at meetings of the Reich in Paris, and social events. Amadea was a decoy for him, and she would do her own information gathering while chatting with other women, and dancing with the senior officers at parties. Colonel Montgomery had gotten a room for them at the Crillon since it was their anniversary, and had ordered champagne and roses for her. A lovely gold and diamond Cartier watch was going to be shown off as her anniversary gift. They had thought of every detail.

“You're very generous,” she said, admiring the watch.

“Do you think so?” he asked, looking very cool and British in the SS uniform. “I think it's rather paltry myself. I frankly think you deserve a large diamond brooch or a sapphire necklace after putting up with me for five years. You're very easy to please.”

“We don't see a lot of these in the convent.” She smiled at him, still feeling like her mother in the gray wool dress and fur. She took the coat off and hung it up gingerly. Her mother had never had furs until after Amadea's father died. Before his inheritance, which had come only at the eleventh hour, they couldn't afford them. After that, she had always allowed herself one good fur coat, but no more. And a jacket for the girls when they were old enough to wear them. Amadea hadn't been near furs in years.

“Perhaps I should have gotten you rosary beads as an anniversary gift,” Colonel Montgomery continued to tease her, and this time she laughed openly.

“I'd like that very much.” And then she thought of something that she really did want to do, if they had time. “Could we go to Notre Dame?” she asked him, sounding like a wife for the first time, and he looked pleased.

“I think that could be arranged.” He wanted to take her shopping, too, or at least appear to. They were giving him quite a lot of German money to carry with him. It was going to be a lavish two days, suitable for a man of his position, and his pretty young wife. “Can you dance?” he asked her suddenly. He had forgotten about that completely. And since she had gone into the convent so young, he thought it was possible that she had never learned.

“I used to.” She smiled shyly.

“We won't dance more than we have to then. My wife always assured me I was a dreadful dancer. I'll tread all over your toes, and elegant shoes,” which of course had to be given back to whoever had lent them to her.

They shared as much information as they could in the next three days. Serge had long meetings with him. Montgomery was here to gather information on new bombs they were building, not so much technical details about the bombs themselves, although they were always welcome, as plans for the factory, the number of men manning it, storage facilities once the bombs were made, and who was in charge of the project. It was still in its early stages, but the British already knew it would have a huge impact on the war. All he needed to do in the next two days was make contact. It was a risky mission for him. If he was too well recognized, and ultimately remembered, it could jeopardize him for future missions, but he had been the only man they could send. What he was doing was essential to the war effort.

A cab was called, and they set off for the Crillon, with two handsome suitcases filled with everything they needed. Their papers were impeccable. Amadea's makeup and hair looked beautiful. She wore her long blond hair woven into a neat bun, and looked very stylish in her fashionable clothes. They looked breathtaking as they walked into the hotel. She stared when she saw their room a few minutes later, and then forced herself to clap her hands, exclaim with delight, and kiss her husband. But there were tears in her eyes when the bellman left. She had seen nothing like it since she entered the convent eight and a half years before, and it reminded her of her mother.

“None of that,” he said to her in German.