Chapter Fourteen
February 3 Sfax
As Angelique and Drew made their way towards the city, they conversed in French. “Why are you in the army?” Angelique asked. Drew shrugged his shoulders. “My father was an officer and fought in the Great War. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps and become an officer too. I just went along with him and was able to get into West Point and graduate, not too high in my class, though” with a rueful look. He became animated, “I enjoyed learning Spanish and French, and once I spent an entire leave in France. I liked being in a foreign country and learning about the people and their customs.” He looked at Angelique, “Your country has such a long and beautiful history, I really enjoyed it.” He went on with his story, “After we entered the war, my fluency in French became in demand, and I was assigned to intelligence.”
“Merci, I am glad that you like my country.” Her mind went off on a sudden tangent, “I wonder if Dane has ever visited France?”
“Humph,” he grunted huffily, “since he doesn’t speak French, I highly doubt it.”
Angelique thought of the difference in the two men, one who so wanted to become an officer but circumstances made it impossible, and the other who just drifted along with his father’s wishes and became one. And yet it was the one who wasn’t an officer who was making most of the decisions and the other who seemed jealous.
“Have you really seen all those places in your country that you told me about yesterday?” she tried to cajole him out of his bad humor.
“Yes, my father was a career officer and we moved around a lot. He was assigned to most of the bases in the U.S. but was only overseas during the war.” They continued talking until they reached Sfax after mid-morning. When they were as close as they dared, Drew found a hiding place. “Now remember, find a shop that sells suits. I wear a size 38. Here is some money. When you walk towards the city be sure to look behind you so that you can see the way back here. The land features look different when you are looking in the opposite direction, so be careful you don’t get lost. Do you have any questions?”
“But mon ami,” she was confused, “size 38 is a child’s size. You are much bigger than that.”
“What? You mean the French have different sized clothing than we do? Great! What size would you guess I am?” He looked helplessly at her. For some reason, his look of male ineptitude made her start giggling, and then break out in laughter, and then he started laughing, too. When they were able to stop and catch their breath, Angelique said, “I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that.”
“You should laugh every day,” Drew said tenderly. They looked at each other, and then embarrassed, looked away. “I still don’t know what size I wear,” Drew said plaintively. Angelique giggled again, and then composed herself. She looked critically at him, “My brother wears a size 44, and Papa,” her voice broke and then she bravely continued, “Papa wore a 46. You are a little taller than them, so maybe a 48.”
“Okay then,” he squeezed her hand, “go, and be careful.”
“You too, mon ami,” she took a deep breath and started walking. She walked into town and mingled with the pedestrians. She remembered where some shops were, and not wanting to draw attention to herself by asking a passerby where the nearest men’s shop was, she made her way to the area she knew. When she got there, she slowly walked up the street, and spotted a likely shop. She halted outside the door, fear overtaking her. Up until now, she could have walked away and no one would know she was here. But when she walked into the shop, she was committing herself to the operation, for better or for worse. “Oh Mother Mary, help me,” she breathed, opened the door and walked in.
Once inside, her eyes had to become accustomed to the dark. She became aware of shelves and piles of clothes about her. “May I assist you?” came a polite voice in French from the gloom. A little old man came into view, peering at her in surprise.
“Oui, I need a suit, please.”
‘I am sorry, mademoiselle, but I only sell men’s clothes.”
She blushed, “I need a man’s suit, monsieur.” At his continued look of surprise, she hurried on, “It, it is for my grandfather, to be buried in.” At once he became very solicitous, and clucking sympathetically directed her to the suits and asked her what size. “48,” she replied, hoping that it would be the right size. “And for the funeral, it must be black,” the little shopkeeper stated, and with the air of a magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat, produced a suit from a stack of clothes. She held them up, and they seemed the right size and agreed to purchase them.
“How about a shirt? We have some nice ones here.” He mentioned. Her heart froze, they had forgotten all about a shirt, and what about shoes and socks? He couldn’t wear his army boots into town! ‘Oh what should I do?’ she thought to herself. Suddenly she felt a calmness, almost a presence about her. She remembered that Dane had said that he would pray for her, and it seemed to her that she could almost hear his voice. She straightened her back, “Oui, I had almost forgotten, a shirt and a pair of socks, all of his has holes in them. One cannot be buried with holes in his socks.” The old man chuckled and busied himself gathering the items. “A handkerchief, to be folded in his pocket, and a pair of shoes.” She remembered their footprints in the sand and how much longer his were than hers. “His shoes are this long,” she held up her hands, showing the length. The shopkeeper frowned at that, and then dove down and produced a pair of used, but clean shoes. She made her purchases, and with the old man’s condolences in her ears, made her way back to where Drew waited for her.
Drew whistled when he saw her packages, “What did you do, buy out the store?” he teased. But he grew serious when she started to pull out her purchases. “I never thought about those things,” he groaned. “You make a better undercover agent than I do,” he said, partly bitter at his shortcomings, and partly in praise at her foresight.
“I’m not sure that it was me,” she said slowly, and recounted her feeling in the store about a presence. “Do you think there is really something to this God of Dane’s?”
Drew stopped looking at the clothes, “I am not sure. I have heard things that he has said, either he is one of the wisest people that I have ever met, or he really does have Divine help.”
“How long have you known him?”
He gave her a crooked grin, “One day longer than I have known you.”
“Oh,” she was surprised, then, “What do you think about him?”
He paused and said slowly, “I think it would be an honor to call him ‘friend’, but he would make a very deadly enemy.” He was surprised at his answer because he hadn’t thought about the corporal like that before; he had been more concerned about the impressions they had been making on Angelique and worrying about his mission. But when he considered the other man, he was convinced his answer was the correct one.
She shivered, “I think I know what you mean.”
He gave her a penetrating look, wondering how deep her feelings were for Dane, and then looked shamefaced, “I should never have said what I did about him never being in France. That was petty of me. Please forget what I said.”
She looked up into his face and thought to herself, ‘He is a big enough man to admit when he did something wrong’, and the thought pleased her. She smiled at him and said, “I have.”
He smiled back at her and made a circling motion with his finger, “Turn around so I can get dressed.”
“Oh,” she said and blushed and turned her back to him.
When he had changed his clothes, he offered her the crook of his arm, “May I take you out to lunch, mademoiselle?” She linked her arm with his and giggled, “Oui, monsieur.” They started walking back to town.
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