White Daisies

Chapter 17

June 22, 1941

Take one step forward.

Smile.

And begin.

The dim lights in the restaurant cut off. The sudden flash of bright light makes my eyes water and skin tingle with intensity. I shrug my violin to fit underneath my chin. Curling my finger, I give my A string a silent pluck.

1, 2, 3

Drawing my bow slowly across the string, a sweet note vibrates across the muted restaurant. A piano begins to play behind me. The drums get in beat. The spotlight shifts to the curvy brunette standing in the front of the stage. Her hips swing as she places each hand on the stand of the microphone. She opens her mouth to release her honey-sweet voice:

Do I want you?

Oh my! Do I!

Honey, deed I do!

Do I need you?

Oh my! I do!

Honey, deed I do!

I'm so glad that I'm the one who found you,

That's why I'm always hangin' around you

I search around the candlelit room. Frances sits at a table on the left side of a restaurant, sharing a drink with an officer and batting her eyes at him.

Do I love you?

Oh my! Do I!

Honey, deed I do!

Eva sits in a stool with her back against the bar counter, her arms sprawled out beside her. She nurses a glass of water with a lime on its rim. Her legs are crossed.

Do I love you?

Oh, my, do I!

Honey, deed I do!

A gentleman enters the restaurant and sits at the table closest to the stage. He tosses an apple in his hand. The waiter sits down a drink in front of him. Bourbon. His eyes focus on me.

I send him a wink.

He takes a bite of the apple.

Ah, Deed I do!

The woman's full voice oscillates while the saxophone hangs on its last note. The lights turn off. The curtain draws. Applause. I draw my violin down and begin to loosen my bow.

This is what we did almost every weekend now. I played shows at The Rouge while Frances worked her charms against naive Germans just looking for a good time. On stage, I could scope out the restaurant and see who I wanted to talk to. It was a great way of hiding in plain sight.

Eva still didn't talk to German soldiers. Instead, she sat in the back and pretended to watch the shows. Whenever someone came to hit on her, she gave them her fake sob story: the love of her life had enlisted in the Luftwaffe and had been shot down over Britain a few months ago. She could never love again. Her only joy was to watch shows every weekend and pretend like he was still with her. She even saved a seat for him. Unsurprisingly, this was a big turn-off for most soldiers. She found great amusement in their dumbfounded faces.

It had taken us a while to perfect the art of spying. Our first attempt had been messy, and we left a lot of loose ends. We had almost gotten caught. We never went back to La Tosca. Instead, we bounced around restaurants and bars for a little while before stumbling on the Rouge. The Rouge hosted shows every weekend night and needed a violinist. They hired me right on the spot. Since then, it had become our niche. We would collect information when we could. Eva would type it up in a letter, and I would deliver it to the address that Mr. Jensen gave to me. That information would then be circulated.