The Nightingale || John Egan

XIX

Iris had never worn such a dresses before, it felt offensive to herself, she stared at the low neckline of the dark blue dress, it was tight at the waist pushing her chest up and from the hips and down it was flowy, so if she needed to run, she would be able to do it.
Two weeks passed by and she had yet to meet a German.
She stated at herself in the mirror and did not recognize herself and feared she would lose her identity if a year passed and she'd still be here.
What about Bucky? Alissa? Her family?

Did they receive any news about her? Was she labeled as dead or missing?

She looked down at the small bed, a thing blanket covering it and she wondered how she fell fast asleep at night.
She wiped her clean hands on her dress, she grabbed the news paper, which was only a small piece of paper with all the information freshly gotten, and placed them inside the opening of the dress' skirt and the rest inside her purse, wrapped in tissues.
She fetched the lipstick and coated her dry lips with it and set it on her bed.
She breathed sharply in and turned her back to the mirror before walking away, her heels clicking.

Her heart hold sorrow but what need was for her to be seen as weak?

She opened the door to the apartment and before walking out, she turned around and stared at the door that lead to the basement, where all happened leading her to help the french.

The sky was clear, it held no clouds as the sun possessed the whole sky in its integrity.

She sighed, her face felt heavy for she rarely wore much make-up and she remembered the after parties and the night of Dye's 25th mission achieved and completed where after, she danced with Bucky, how gentle his hands felt on her body, how kind his words sounded to her, she brought her fingers up to lightly touch her lips that were once kissed by him, the man she loved and the man she wasn't sure she would ever get to see again. Her eyes glanced down at the fingers that touched her lips only to find them stained from the red tint she had applied before she left the room, and she decided to not think any longer as she walked down the three steps. Wind blew though her straight hair, pinned half up half down, a small flower pin in the middle and she had started to believe if all this was to attract those who were disgusting to not be seen or thought as suspicious. Iris tried to swallow the tightness forming in her throat  and began to walk, her hand often when inside her purse, fetching the piece of paper containing information that, if fallen in the wrong hands, could lead to serious consequences. 

Iris recalled her first time doing such a thing, Marie walked around with her, arm in arm and claiming to whomever asked that the young girl was her cousin. And the girl was amazed on how these people had learnt to lie so easily making it look honest because of the war, because the girl, standing in somebody else's shoes, she had begun to understand that war bloomed with lies and hid the truth to keep on going, causing deception to bloom even more. And that lead people to mistake lies for honesty. Marie slipped the pieces of paper so easily Iris began to worry for herself but, she learnt to do it so discretely that she had learnt to do it blindly. She made sure to get the houses of those on their side and to not mistake any house, she passed by gardens that a week ago were blooming with colors and brightness and that now looked as if those, who believe themselves to have a right to be in a country that does not belong to them, stepped on them like people do not deserve such beauties in their lives. 

But to get to the end of the town, she usually passed by an old cafe, Cafe Voila, that she was sure once it held people who sat on those chairs with their loved ones, trapping their chatter and laughter inside of the walls that never got bored of them. When she passed by it with Marie it was empty, only those who could afford the raising prices where present, and Iris had expected it to be the same the next day. But her eye caught the foreigners, they had their table filled with sweets and pastries and they ate like pigs, and the sight of them made Iris' stomach churn in disgust. When she tore her eyes away immediately from either fear or disgust, their eyes caught her womanly figure and all her ears perceived were whistles and calling for the young woman who was brave and yet her heart trembled as if it knew better than her mind did.

She ignored it once, and with the days she always found them there and she had tried miserably to find another path that could have lead her to the other side of the town, but there was no other way.

She braced herself as she approached the Cafe Voila, her hand clutching her purse that now contained only her lipstick, leaving the pieces of papers left in the dress' skirt. She heard a man at the cafe call and whistle and she ignored it but the second call was more aggressive, she didn't understand what he called her, she only knew it was not French but German.
She took a deep breath in before she turned her head add saw the table filled with pastries once again and the men around the table, all sitting with cigarettes in their hands.
One of them, nodded once and with his hand motioned her to come and spoke, she felt a flood of anxiety drown her lungs and took a step forward before walked towards the Cafe.
One looked at her up and down and chewed his food with his mouth open before taking a drag from his cigarette; she dared to look only at the man who called for her, she stood before the table and showed no fear on her face, although she feared her knees would buckle from the amount of fright she accumulated.

She forced herself to offer the man a soft smile and a nod and spoke "Bonjour", the man grinned and it was not the kind of grin a gentleman would offer, it was the kind of grin that would successfully scare girls away.
"Bonjour, what is your name lady?" he asked her taking a bite out of a biscuit.
"Amélie" she didn't say her false surname, but she will if they asked, the man nodded and asked her full name, his teeth and nails yellow.
"Amélie Dubois".
"You don't look very" he began and moved his hand in a circular motion to find the right words "very French".
"Who does these days?" she asked.

"You're very very beautiful. Nice hips, nice" he began once again, and at the last nice her moved his hand over his upper chest, to indicate hers. She swallowed and nodded once, a small smile on her lips and she did not say anything as she felt a hand on her dress, she moved away with a quick step.
"Do you have a husband?" the one who was touching her dress ask his tone filled with a filthy curiosity.
She thought of Bucky at the question, he wasn't her husband, but he will be as soon as she went back home.
"Yes".
The men spoke and Iris stood there not knowing whether she was free to go or not.
The man who called for her before looked at her and raised his chin and stubbed his cigarette and said something in his language before he looked at the men.
He dug his hand inside his pocket and took out a piece of paper and a pen and wrote something down before he handed it to her.

"You won't mind taking a break from your husband do you?"

"Excuse me?" she acted clueless as she stared at the piece of paper, the name of a hotel on and the time.
"You look a bit miserable, we can bring pleasure to you and you to us".
"I don't understand?" she acted clueless again, but she understood fully and she began to wonder whether she should take her life or not.
"Listen woman, be there at that time or we will find you and it will be worse. Understand Amélie?"

She nodded with a straight face and walked away slowly and normally.
She finished handing out the papers and returned to the apartment passing by the Cafe that was now empty.
Only when she returned back to the apartment did tears threaten to spill.
She went to the basement where everyone was and spotted Marie at a desk, looking down at the new information.
The woman looked up at the young woman and asked "All?"
"All".
"Encounter with the Germans?" Marie asked and Iris nodded handing her the paper.
The woman muttered something in French and all that Iris understood was the 'oh God'.

"What did they say?"
"That I could get a break from my husband and go to that hotel at 7pm."
"And if you don't?"

"There will be consequences".