The Room on Rue Amélie

by Kristin Harmel

  “And how about you?” he asked. “Do you still want to be a schoolteacher?”

  “A year ago, I would have said no. But I’ve been working with Charlotte, helping her to learn English, and it has reminded me how much I love education. Knowledge is power, especially in times like these.”

  Thomas nodded. “Talking of Charlotte, she mentioned something to me when I was in her apartment earlier,” he said. “It’s my fault; I was asking about you, and I’m afraid I pried more than I intended.”

  Ruby blinked a few times. “What did she say?”

  “She told me about the baby. I’m so very sorry, Ruby.”

  Ruby felt suddenly numb, cold. She was glad, in a way, that Thomas knew. She had wanted to tell him the night before, but she hadn’t known how to say the words.

  When she didn’t say anything, he went on. “He’s who you were talking about last night, isn’t he? You said that you felt as if you’d failed because you couldn’t save him.”

  The tears were falling now, and she didn’t bother to pretend otherwise. “He came too early. I wasn’t strong enough.”

  “Ruby.” He reached for her hands and waited until she looked at him. “I can’t even imagine the pain of a loss like that. But you must know that it wasn’t your fault.”

  “But a mother’s most important job is to protect her child.”

  “Sometimes that’s impossible, though. I know you well enough now to know that you did everything you could to keep that baby safe, didn’t you?”

  Ruby nodded, feeling miserable.

  “Sometimes, God’s plans are different from ours, and it’s impossible to know why,” Thomas said. “I need to ask something of you, Ruby.”

  She looked up, startled. He was asking her a favor in the midst of a conversation like this? “All right.”

  “I need you to forgive yourself.”

  “Thomas—”

  “Please, let me finish. You can carry the sadness with you, but not the guilt. Guilt will eat you alive, and in this case, there’s no reason for it. It’s not my business, Ruby, but if there’s one thing I hope for you, it’s that you’ll try to let go of the feeling that you failed, because you didn’t. I want the best for you. I want you to be happy. And I don’t think you will be, not entirely, until you lay this burden down.”

  When he was done speaking, she stared at him for a long time. “I’ll try,” she whispered at last. “But why do you care? We’ll probably never see each other again.”

  “The war will end someday, Ruby,” Thomas replied. “And Paris isn’t so far away from London.”

  Ruby let herself imagine a future where they could have all the time in the world to get to know each other. But that simply wasn’t realistic. What were the chances that an RAF pilot and an American girl in Paris would find their way back to each other? She settled for saying, “It’s a nice thought, Thomas. A very nice thought.”

  They talked long into the night, until Ruby’s eyelids grew heavy. Finally, she glanced at the clock on the mantel and stood up. “You have a long journey ahead of you tomorrow. You must get some sleep.”

  He stood too, and she was struck anew by the sheer size of him, the way her head would fit perfectly against his solid chest. He took a step closer, and she held her breath. In a split second, his lips were on hers, soft and tender. He laced a large hand through her hair, cradling the back of her head as he pulled her toward him, and she kissed him back, although she knew it was foolish. But it felt perfect and right, and she didn’t want the moment to end.

  When he finally backed away, he looked dazed. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

  Ruby looked into his eyes. “I’m very glad you did.”

  “Well then.” He kissed her again, more intensely, and this time, it was Ruby who broke away.

  “Thomas, we must get some sleep,” she said.

  “Yes, yes, of course.”

  Ruby hesitated. “Good night, then. And thank you for a lovely dinner.” She walked into her bedroom without looking back, but after she closed the door behind her, she stayed there, listening. She yearned to go to him, and she wondered if on the other side of the wall, he was feeling the same way. If he came to her door, she would let him in, even if it was against her better judgment.

  But he didn’t. And after a while, her heart heavy with longing for something she knew she could never have, she crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling until dawn arrived.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  October 1941

  “Fleur?” The dark-haired woman standing outside Ruby’s door was early. Too early. She was also too beautiful. Ruby knew that was a ridiculous thing to think, especially since the woman’s voluptuous curves, bee-stung lips, and large green eyes probably made her an asset to the Resistance, keeping the German soldiers distracted. But Ruby hated the idea of handing Thomas off to her, especially after the kiss they’d shared last night.

  “I’m sorry, you are Fleur?” the woman repeated more uncertainly. Ruby could tell from her accent that she was French, but her beauty seemed foreign somehow, exotic.

  “Yes. And you must be . . . ?”

  “Laure. I’m here for the package.” The woman smiled slightly, which unfortunately made her look even lovelier. “Philippe sent me,” she added when Ruby still hadn’t said anything.

  “Oh yes, of course.” Ruby forced a smile. Aubert’s cover name.

  “And you have the package?” Laure was regarding Ruby warily now.

  “One moment, please.” Ruby shut the door on Laure, knowing it was rude, but not particularly caring. She wanted a few seconds alone with Thomas.

  “That’s her?” His voice came from behind her, where he stood wearing Marcel’s clothes. “The woman who will take me to the next stop on the line?”

  “That’s her,” Ruby confirmed flatly.

  Thomas closed the distance between them in three long steps. He pulled Ruby into his arms and kissed her once more before pulling away. “I don’t want to leave you.”

  The words made Ruby’s heart ache. “But you must.”

  “I’ll be back one day,” Thomas said. “I swear it.”

  Ruby doubted that the words could ever be true. But she wanted to believe.

  There was a knock at the door again, and Ruby held Thomas’s gaze for one more long moment before opening it. Laure was standing with her hands on her hips, looking perturbed.

  “We really must go,” she said. “May I come in?”

  Ruby nodded, stepping aside and closing the door behind her. Laure introduced herself to Thomas; then, acting as if Ruby wasn’t there at all, she plunged into a rapid-fire set of instructions in English.

  “You’re to walk behind me,” she said. “No contact. No acknowledgment. If someone stops me, you keep walking. If someone stops you, I keep walking. There’s no way we can be seen together. If all goes well, I’ll lead you to the train station, where I’ll board first and you’ll board a few minutes later in the same car. Again, we do not know each other. Here are your ticket and your identity papers, as well as your German travel document, all flawless forgeries.” She withdrew a few papers from her purse and handed them to Thomas. “You are a French farmworker who is deaf and mute. Do you understand?”

  “But I can speak French.”

  “With an English accent. Under no circumstances will you speak when spoken to.”

  Thomas nodded.

  “You will change into the clothes I have here.” She held up the bag she was carrying. “And you will carry this sign.” She withdrew a sloppily hand-lettered sign that read in French, DEAF AND MUTE. CAN YOU SPARE A COIN? “We will exit the train at Bordeaux, and you will follow me to another train. Understand?”

  “Yes.” Thomas was all business. “Thank you. I understand you’re taking a great risk.”

  Laure seemed to soften a little. “We all are, including you. The important thing is to return you to combat.” She turned to Ruby. “Philippe says you did well nursing this pilo
t back to health. You’re to meet him on Monday at ten in the Tuileries if you’re still interested in discussing things.”

  “I am.” Ruby felt stiff and awkward. “Thank you.”

  Laure nodded. “Well then. We must be on our way.”

  Thomas stepped forward and took Ruby’s hand. “I don’t know how to thank you,” he said softly. Then he leaned in and kissed her quickly on the cheek—the most either of them dared to do in front of Laure—and moved away.

  “You can thank me by staying safe, Thomas.”

  He was heading for the door, already too far away from her.

  “You must change what you’re wearing.” Laure’s voice was sharp.

  Thomas blinked a few times. “Of course.” She handed him the bag and he disappeared into Ruby’s bedroom. Laure and Ruby regarded each other silently in the long minute it took him to change. When he emerged, he looked like a different man. The clothing Laure had given him was worn and stained. He would easily pass for a French farmer.

  “I’ve left your husband’s clothes on your bed,” he said, locking eyes with Ruby. “Thank you again. For everything.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He moved toward the door with Laure, and Ruby was afraid those were the last words they’d ever say to each other. They felt strangely impersonal. But as he passed her, he stopped and touched her cheek gently. “I will never, ever forget what you did for me.”

  “Helping you is what any decent person would have done,” Ruby said.

  “I’m not talking about that.” He studied her face for another second, as if memorizing her features, and then he let his hand fall and was gone. Laure glanced back at Ruby once before pulling the door closed behind her.

  After that, there was only silence.

  Ruby stood in place for a long time before making her way to the couch and sitting down in a daze. Had last night really happened? Had the last few days been real? Now what? There was a part of her that wished she’d asked Aubert about the percentage of pilots who made it safely back to England, and a part of her that was glad she hadn’t.

  There was a knock at the door some time later, and Ruby jumped up to answer. What if something had happened to Thomas? But it was only Charlotte standing there, a single red rose in her hands. She held it out to Ruby.

  “This bloomed on our terrace this morning,” she said. “Can you believe it? In October? Maman wanted you to have it.”

  “Thank you, Charlotte.” Ruby took the rose and inhaled. It smelled strong and sweet, and its color reminded her of the poppies that flourished near her parents’ house in California, the ones she’d told Thomas about. It was enough to make her eyes fill with tears.

  “Your pilot is gone,” Charlotte said bluntly.

  “Yes. Yes, he is.” Ruby drew a deep breath. “How is your mother feeling, Charlotte?”

  “A little better, thank you.”

  “I’m very glad.”

  Charlotte nodded, but she made no move to go. Ruby had the sense there was something the girl wanted to say.

  “Is everything okay, Charlotte?”

  “I can hear my parents at night,” she blurted out. “Arguing. They don’t sleep anymore. I don’t know what I should do. They just stay up and fight about the situation in Paris. They talk about whether we should try to leave.”

  Ruby felt a surge of pity for the Dachers. She knew things were only getting worse for Jews; there were frequent reports of arrests and deportations across the city. “Maybe you should,” she said gently.

  “This is our city, Ruby. It’s the only home I’ve ever known. Why should we have to go?”

  “Because it’s getting dangerous.”

  “But you’ve decided to stay! Why should things be any different for us?”

  Ruby could tell just by looking that the girl knew the answer to her own question.

  FOR THE NEXT FEW DAYS, Ruby could barely sleep. Each time she closed her eyes, she saw something terrible happening to Thomas. She imagined him caught by a Nazi soldier on a train, betrayed by Laure, picked off the street in southwest France, shot on sight as he tried to cross into Spain. She knew she had to keep telling herself to forget him. Her mother had once told her that some people you meet are meant to be a part of your world forever, but some are meant only to change the course of your life and then move on. Thomas had shown her that she could be useful in the escape line, restored her faith in herself, given her back a purpose. He had even helped her to begin letting go of her guilt over the baby. Maybe that was all he was meant to do. Maybe in time, she would stop thinking of him, stop remembering the feel of his lips against hers.

  On Monday, Ruby went to the Tuileries gardens to meet Aubert. As she strolled through the flower-lined pathways, she was struck by how normal things seemed. There were little boys racing white-sailed boats in the pond, giggling girls chasing each other, contented mothers pushing prams and chatting. It was like none of them knew a war was going on. Ruby wasn’t sure whether she should be grateful for the normalcy or horrified by it.

  “Act casual,” Aubert said quietly as he approached quickly from the west entrance to the park. He kissed her on both cheeks and put an arm around her. “Behave as if we’re old friends, just meeting up for a chat.”

  “But we are old friends,” Ruby said. “Aren’t we?”

  She drew her answer from his silence. He had never been her friend. He had merely tolerated her. Was that what he was doing now? Putting on a friendly face to keep her happy?

  They settled onto a bench together facing the pond. It was the perfect cover for a clandestine meeting. There were thousands of witnesses, so no one could accuse them of conspiring, and yet they could talk without being overheard. “Always hide in plain sight,” Aubert murmured. “It’s the last place the Nazis look.”

  “Is the pilot safe?” Ruby couldn’t help but ask. “The one I was sheltering?”

  “I don’t know. Once they leave Paris, I have no idea what happens. It’s better that way; the less each of us knows, the less we can reveal if we’re captured.”

  “But he got out of Paris, at least?”

  “Yes.” Aubert was silent for a moment. “You know, it’s our job to send them on to the next stop in the line, not to befriend them.”

  Ruby looked away, but she was sure Aubert could feel her shoulders tensing under his arm. “I nursed him back to health, Aubert, so obviously I care what becomes of him.”

  “Laure seemed to feel there was something more between the two of you. Of course I told her she must be wrong. Surely you’re still mourning your husband.”

  “Of course I am,” Ruby said quickly, swallowing a hard lump of guilt.

  “In any case, I know you want to help us. I appreciate that, Ruby, but I’ve considered it and I don’t think you’re the right fit. You already stand out.”

  “And yet I harbored a pilot for days.”

  “Still, I’m not sure you’re capable—”

  She didn’t wait for him to finish. “You didn’t think I’d be capable of something like this in the first place, though, did you? And I have already proven you wrong.”

  “Ruby—”

  “And truly, Aubert, why would anyone suspect me?” she asked, interrupting him again. “Because of Marcel, people think I’m nothing, a nobody.”

  From the sheepish look Aubert gave her, Ruby knew he’d thought it too. Perhaps he still did.

  “See?” she continued. “Marcel laid the perfect groundwork. If the Nazis ever have a suspicion, they’ll only have to ask around, and they’ll be informed of just how useless I am.” Her laugh sounded more bitter than she intended it to. “He created the perfect cover.”

  “This is very dangerous work, Ruby.”

  “I’m aware of the risks.”

  “But they torture people. You can’t possibly know how you’d stand up to that.”

  “I do know that I would sooner die than risk endangering any of the pilots I’d be helping.”

  “And unde
r no circumstances could you tell the Nazis about me or Laure or anyone else you meet on the line. As an American, you might survive, but those of us who are French would be executed immediately. We’d be putting our lives in your hands, Ruby.”

  “Aubert, I’m involved already, which means your life is in my hands now. I suppose it’s up to you what happens next.” She held her breath.

  His hand on her shoulder flexed and released. “Very well. But from now on, I’m Philippe. You must remember that. The code names are for our protection, and you mustn’t be careless. I’ll send you your first pilot within a week’s time, as long as the Brits agree, and I’ll work on getting you extra ration cards. Laure or a man with the code name Jean-Louis will do the pickups from your apartment. Unless something goes wrong, you should have the men for forty-eight hours at most.”

  Ruby took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

  “Those are the wrong words for a situation like this. You think that you’re embarking on a great adventure, Ruby. But I fear you’ve just started down a road that will ultimately end in your death.”

  SIX DAYS LATER, THERE WAS a soft knock at Ruby’s door, and she opened it to find a man with small, dark eyes dressed in dungarees and a faded shirt. There was a deep gash down the right side of his face, and he looked exhausted. “Fleur?” he asked, glancing around nervously. He reminded Ruby of a skittish deer.

  “Yes,” Ruby said in English, realizing immediately that he was the first of the men Aubert had promised to send her way. “Please, won’t you come in?”

  He didn’t move at first. “You speak English.”

  “I’m American.”

  His eyes filled with tears. “God, you have no idea how nice it is to hear my own language.” He stepped inside, and she shut the door behind him. “What on earth are you doing here, so far from home?”

  “I might ask you the same.”

  He laughed, which turned into a hacking cough. “I was shot out of the sky over Abbeville. A farmer saw my plane go down and reached me before the Germans did. Hid me in his barn for two days before passing me along to a chap who drove me to another town. I slept three nights there in the basement of an inn, then I was picked up by a member of the Resistance, who gave me a bicycle and had me follow him to the suburbs of Paris. I was given instructions to come to you. I’m told this is my last stop before I head for Spain.”