The Girl You Left Behind

stood. Peered out at the woods. And
     stopped. ‘I can’t.’
    She turned to me. She still carried her
     broken hand close to her chest, as if fearful anything would brush against it. I could
     see now in daylight the scratches and bruises on her face where the missiles had caught
     her the previous day.
    I swallowed. ‘What if they are taking
     me to Édouard?’
    Liliane stared at me. ‘Are you
     insane?’ she whispered. ‘Come, Sophie. Come. This is our chance.’
    ‘I can’t.’
    She ducked in again, glancing nervously at
     the sleeping soldier, then grabbed my wrist with her good hand. Her expression was
     fierce and she spoke as one would to a particularly stupid child. ‘Sophie. They
     are not taking you to Édouard.’
    ‘The
Kommandant
said
     –’
    ‘He’s a German, Sophie! You
     humiliated him. You revealed him as less of a man! You think he will repay that with
     kindness?’
    ‘It’s a faint hope, I know. But
     it’s … all I have left.’ As she stared at me, I pulled my bag
     towards me. ‘Look, you go. Take this. Take everything. You can do it.’
    Liliane grabbed the bag and peered out of
     the rear, thinking. She readied herself as if working out where best to go. I watched
     the guard nervously, fearful that he would wake.
    ‘
Go
.’
    I couldn’t understand why she
     wouldn’t move. She turned towards me slowly, in anguish. ‘If I escape, they
     will kill you.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘For aiding my escape. They will kill
     you.’
    ‘But you can’t stay. You were
     caught distributing resistance material. My position is different.’
    ‘Sophie. You were the only person who
     treated me as a human. I cannot have your death on my conscience.’
    ‘I’ll be fine. I always
     am.’
    Liliane Béthune stared at my dirty
     clothes, my thin, feverish body, now shivering in the chill morning air. She stood there
     for the longest time, then sat down heavily, dropping the bag as if she no longer cared
     who heard it. I looked at her but she averted her eyes. We both jumped as the
     truck’s engine jolted into life. I heard a shout. The truck moved off slowly,
     bumping over a pothole so that we both banged heavily against the side. The soldier let
     out a guttural snore, but he did not stir.
    I reached for her arm, hissing,
     ‘Liliane, go. While you can. You still have time. They will not hear
     you.’
    But she ignored me. She pushed the bag
     towards me with her foot and sat down beside the slumbering soldier. She leaned back
     against the side of the truck and stared into nothing.
    The truck emerged from the forest on to an
     open road and we travelled the next few miles in silence. In the distance we heard
     shots, saw other military vehicles. We slowed as we passed a column of men, trudging
     along in grey, ragged clothes. Their heads were down. They were like spectres, not even
     like real people. I watched Liliane watching them and felt her presence in the truck
     like a dead weight. She might have made it, if it were not for me. We might have made it
     together. As my thoughts gained clarity, I realized I had probablydestroyed her last chance to be reunited with her daughter.
    ‘Liliane –’
    She shook her head, as if she did not want
     to hear it.
    We drove on. The skies darkened and it began
     to rain again, a freezing sleet, which bit my skin in droplets as it sliced through the
     gaps in the roof. My shivering became violent, and with every bump, pain shot through my
     body as if from a bolt. I wanted to tell her I was sorry. I wanted to tell her I knew I
     had done something terrible and selfish. I should have granted her her chance. She was
     right: I had been fooling myself to think the
Kommandant
would reward me for
     what I had done.
    Finally she spoke. ‘Sophie?’
    ‘Yes?’ I was so desperate for
     her to talk to me. I must have sounded pathetically eager.
    She swallowed, her gaze fixed on her shoes.
     ‘If … if anything happens to me, do you think Hélène will look
     after Édith? I mean, really look after her? Love her?’
    ‘Of course. Hélène could no
     more fail to love a child than she could … I don’t know – join the
     Boche.’ I tried to smile. I was determined to make myself appear less ill than I
     felt, to try to reassure her that good might still happen. I shifted on my seat, trying
     to force myself upright. Every bone in my body hurt as I did so. ‘But you
     mustn’t think like that. We will survive this, Liliane, and then