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to know” rule was second nature to them all by now.
    “Exactly,” Henri said. “But, yes, the aircraft will obviously have to stop to refuel on both legs of the journey, probably somewhere near the border between Spain and France. We’ll receive further instructions as they come through, but we must be ready to move at a moment’s notice.”
    “And where will I be picked up from?”
    Henri shook his head. “For now you know as much as I do.”
    Didier gave Paul a reassuring smile. “It’s what you wanted, Paul. And we’ll do what we can to help.”
    Paul’s mind was racing. Only the previous evening his head had been full of dreams of eventually returning to England to join the war effort. It seemed this was to become reality much sooner than he could ever have imagined.
    He was sitting next to Hélène, where he always sat when they were eating. He knew it was the chair her son had used, but Hélène had seemed to take comfort from Paul’s presence at her side.
    She reached across and put one hand on his on the tabletop. “It sounds dangerous,” she said to Henri.
    “Yes, but Paul is accustomed to danger now.”
    “And it is his choice to go,” Josette said, not looking at Paul. “But why, Papa, why is there this urgency to get him back to Britain?”
    Henri considered for a moment. “Paul told me something when we spoke this morning, something about his father that the British are very anxious to know. Something that could help the whole war effort.”
    Josette looked briefly at Paul and then back at her father. “Then why can’t you just radio them the information?”
    “Far too risky. Messages are intercepted and decoded. Paul must pass on what he knows in person.”
    Josette turned to Paul. “Another secret? Something else you decided not to let us in on until now?”
    “It isn’t like that,” Paul said quickly. “I only realized it myself this morning when I was talking to your father. Something my father had told me.”
    “Oh, how convenient. So what is this great secret?”
    “No!” Henri said, before Paul could reply. “Don’t say any more.”
    “But he’s told you, Papa,” Josette snapped.
    Henri shook his head. “No, Josette. All Paul has told me is that he thinks he knows the
whereabouts
of vital information his father had. And that’s all I’ve passed on to London. I don’t know what that information is and neither does Paul. He knows where the information is hidden, and
that
is what he must tell the British. In person.”
    Suddenly Josette didn’t care about being angry any more. All that mattered was that Paul was going to leave very soon. And she didn’t want it to happen.
    “But what about everyone at the factory?” she said to Henri as panic tightened her chest. “What will we tell them?”
    “We use Paul’s cover story; the one he’s had all along. We say he decided after all that he doesn’t want to make a career in the textile industry and has returned to his family north of Lyon.”
    “And Gra-mere?” Josette was searching desperately for reasons to delay Paul’s imminent departure. “He can’t just disappear without saying goodbye to her.”
    Henri thought for a moment. “Yes, you should see my mother, Paul; she’s become very fond of you, as we all have. She’ll know to say nothing about this to anyone, so visit her tomorrow and say your farewells.”
    “I will,” Paul said.
    “But…”
    Everyone turned to look at Josette, but she could think of nothing else to say. She shook her head and stared down at the table.
    Henri sighed. “It’s incredible. In a matter of days they’ll swoop in, pick you up and you’ll be gone. And then who knows when we’ll see you again.”
    Hélène seemed to be on the verge of tears. She squeezed Paul’s hand, got up and left the room.
    “They’ve given the operation a codename for radio contact,” Henri said as the door closed. “You should know it, Didier, in case you have to take over.”
    “Why