"There is a mysterious attraction between us and heaven. God wants us, and we want God. I don't know what bird this is that keeps flying about my head. I hear it almost without seeing it; it is dark." - Eugénie de Guérin, Journal of Eugénie de Guérin
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The flickering of dull lights. The muffled sound of vibrant chatter and music. Sitting around a table amongst her closest friends in the world. Counting down the final ten seconds in a whisper as opposed to a cheer, but feeling the same thrill of excitement regardless.
"Happy new year!"
It was different to how she thought she'd be seeing in her twenty-second birthday, but also the same. It was as though this very moment had been whispered to her in dreams, hinted at in the stars she gazed at even as a child. It was one of those rare moments that told you you were right where you were supposed to be, even if that wasn't where you expected.
It was like being on fire, but instead of feeling the burning, she only felt the warmth.
"Happy birthday, Jules!"
She was pulled into a fierce hug by Thomas, but soon all of them had bundled in. This was her family. She was blessed to be seeing in another year with them. They had only been hidden away in the dingy basement of the bar in La Rochelle for a few hours, but for those few seconds it felt like home.
"I love you all very dearly," Juliette told them when they had each sat back down again. She took care to lock eyes with each of them in turn so they'd know she was sincere.
"Yeah, yeah, don't get all soft on us now, Jules," Martin joked, shoving her gently by the shoulder. "It doesn't become you."
She laughed. "Hey, it's my birthday. You legally have to be nice to me today."
"Legally?"
"It's an international holiday," she quipped back, her smile growing as she watched him roll his eyes.
"Not because of you, it isn't."
Jules shrugged. "That's by the by."
"It quite literally isn't."
They spent the next few hours of New Year's Day in much the same way, laughing and joking around with each other and allowing themselves to forget for a little while that later in the day they were being sent out again. After having stolen a radio, Will had contacted HQ to let them know that they were alive. Instead of sending them back to Aldbourne, however, their superiors thought it would be a more efficient use of their resources to send them straight back into circulation again. After all, they were already behind enemy lines, and there was no use dropping another team in in their stead when they were there and waiting for orders.
For the moment, however, they weren't spies, and they weren't undercover. They were just young and themselves, and that was the best they could manage to be.
Alex shut down the party at around three in the morning, telling them all that they needed to get some sleep before being sent back to Paris. The journey would be long but they would have to be split up on the train, and they couldn't afford to fall asleep. Additionally, they had to meet a courier at 0800 in order to receive their new identification papers and a fresh change of clothes, considering they had been wearing the same ones since leaving Aldbourne.
At the very least, however, Paris meant safe houses and safe houses meant showers. They just had to trust that they wouldn't be betrayed again.
Juliette had a rather unsettled night's sleep, worrying at the prospect of having to use another safe house and having to trust another stranger. She tried to remind herself that it hadn't been a problem before Brigitte, but the fact that she had known Brigitte and Brigitte had known her had only made the betrayal worse, and thus her anxiety along with it. She didn't like to be caught off guard.
How desperately she wished they were going back to Aldbourne instead, and instead of tearing away such longing thoughts she allowed herself to revel in the simultaneous sting and comfort they brought. Nostalgia could be painful, but it could also be warm and familiar and precious. She hoped the Americans were having a good New Year, as she wouldn't put it past them to be partying all night, especially with it being a Friday night (or, technically, a Saturday morning). She smiled at the mental image of them wreaking havoc in their normal pub, imagining the drinking games and the heckling and the laughter. She longed to be among them, safe in England with not a care in the world.
She longed for a lot of things, really, but that didn't mean she was likely to get them.
The train journey to Paris was long, but she was glad to have Thomas at her side throughout. Whilst they had all had to split up, it wasn't safe for Juliette to travel alone, so Alex had ordered for Tom to sit with her. They ended up sat opposite an elderly French couple who were returning to Paris after visiting friends in La Rochelle over the Christmas period. Jules thought they were most agreeable, if slightly sheltered.
The woman, who was likely around seventy and was very polished and groomed, gushed at length about how pretty she thought Juliette was and how lovely her and Tom were as a couple. At that particular comment, Jules had had to prevent herself from gagging. She loved Tom ardently as a brother. But as a lover? Revolting.
Tom, however, had grinned rakishly and slung an arm over her shoulders, simply to annoy her. It worked.
To the woman's credit, however, she had also been very kind. She had even gifted Juliette a red beret that she had brought with her, claiming it would go perfectly with her dark hair. Jules was touched by the gift and told the woman it was very beautiful, wanting to tell her that it was also her birthday but not being able to because her papers didn't agree. Still, she thought of it as a birthday gift, and she hadn't received one of those in years. It didn't really match with what she was wearing but she wore it proudly nonetheless. Sometimes people surprised her.
When they got to Paris it was bustling with activity, as Juliette had always known Paris to be, and she was unsurprised to see that it was still flooded with Nazis. At the station she bid farewell to the old woman and her husband, and smiled at their retreating forms as they walked away; they were clearly very much in love, and had been for over fifty years, they'd said. It made Juliette's heart smile.
Jules and Tom headed straight to the safe house they would be using according to the information they had gotten over the radio, and were met with little resistance or interaction on the way. They were the first to arrive and were let in briskly after exchanging the code words with the man who had opened the door, and the wait for the others was spent with fingers fiddling at clothes and shoes tapping on the floor.
It was Martin who arrived next, commenting offhandedly on how many more Nazis there seemed to be patrolling Paris these days, and he was shortly followed by Will, who grinned when he saw them all waiting in the living room of the small apartment.
It was another ten minutes before Alex entered. He ran a shaky hand through his hair upon entering. "Anyone else have any trouble on the way here?" When they all replied in the negative he nodded, his shoulders dropping with relief. "Good."
"Why? What happened?" Jules asked, eyebrows furrowing together as she watched him begin to pace.
"I think..." he began, and trailed off. He rolled his lips into his mouth for a moment before shaking his head and sighing. "I think the officer recognised me. He's accepted my papers for now but he told me to go and pick them up from the police station later on, so he's obviously sceptical of something."
"You don't think it's because of..." Tom wondered, his words faltering as his eyes darted between the four all looking at him.
"Because of what happened last time we were here," Alex finished for him, a nod punctuating the end of his sentence to let them know that he did, in fact, think that.
"Wait, I thought you said they didn't see you," Will spoke up, looking to Alex in confusion. "You said you took them from behind."
"Yeah, well, I thought they didn't, but maybe someone was watching. Someone I didn't see. Regardless, I think that officer recognised me, not entirely but enough to take my papers in. Which isn't good."
The man who owned the safe house, whose name, incidentally, was Claude, came back into the apartment at that moment, after having left as soon as he had let Alex in. He was clutching a piece of paper tightly in his hands when he entered the living room, and he looked to Alex warily before handing it to him.
"God damn it," Alex hissed to himself, nodding his thanks at the man before turning the sheet of paper around and holding it up so the others could see.
It was a wanted poster, with an illustration of a man on it who resembled Alex - not entirely, but enough for him to be vaguely recognisable. That was why the officer had stopped him. That was why he had looked suspicious.
"Fuck," Tom whispered.
Juliette merely sighed exhaustedly, leaning her elbow on the arm of the sofa and her head in her hand. Were they never to catch a break?