The Room on Rue Amélie(25)

He taxied in that night and found the flight instructor, Maxwell, waiting for him with a big grin. “You’ll never guess what happened, sir,” Maxwell said as Thomas unfastened his straps.

“I’m a little tired for guessing games,” he said as he climbed from the cockpit.

“Oh, but this one’s worth it. It’s to do with Cormack.”

Thomas looked up, startled. “Harry Cormack?”

“One and the same, sir. He’s back, sir, alive and well. I’d suggest you get over to the mess right away.”

Thomas didn’t believe it until he’d laid eyes on his friend himself five minutes later, after running full tilt across the base. There, just as Maxwell had promised, Thomas found Harry in full dress uniform, gaunter than he’d been seven weeks earlier but otherwise no worse for the wear.

“Harry?” Thomas cried from across the hall, and his friend turned, smiled, and closed the distance between them, pulling Thomas into a bear hug.

“Thomas! You’re a sight for sore eyes, my friend!” Harry’s voice was scratchy but familiar, and Thomas felt as if he were looking at a ghost.

“I was sure you were dead!” Thomas clapped his friend on the back to reassure himself that Harry was actually composed of flesh and bones.

“I thought so too. But I went down near a farmhouse, and the farmer hid me in a storeroom beneath his barn for three days until the Nazis stopped looking.”

“Who was this man?” Thomas asked in awe.

Harry shrugged. “A fellow named Jacques. I never got his surname. He sent me to a butcher in town, who hid me for another four days. And then a third chap put me in the back of his truck and took me to Paris, where they gave me directions to a safe house near a little art shop with sculptures of ballerinas in the window.”

“A safe house?”

“Well, sort of.” Harry chuckled. “It was more like a cupboard, really. It wasn’t far from the Eiffel Tower; I had to stop for a minute and just stare, Thomas. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before. The building, it had a huge red door in front, and inside, there was a man up one flight of stairs who hurried me into a sort of hole in the hall. I was there for three days, with just a little sausage and bread to eat, and on the fourth morning, a woman came to take me away.

“They gave me clothes and false papers, and I rode a train filled with Nazi soldiers all the way down to a town near Perpignan in the south. Then—and this is the most unbelievable part, Thomas—I actually walked right over the Pyrenees mountains into Spain.”

Thomas stared at him. “Over the Pyrenees?”

“There’s a mountain pass there, just through a commune called Banyuls-sur-Mer. We made it past the border, and then the man who took us across connected us with railway workers who saw us to Barcelona.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“I wouldn’t believe it either if it hadn’t happened to me.”

“Who are these people who helped you?”

Harry shrugged. “I haven’t a clue. They went by code names, and it all seemed very secretive. But I’ll tell you one thing. They’re helping us win the war, Thomas. Before I was shot down, I rather thought the Brits were in it alone. But there are plenty of ordinary French people who are part of the effort too. They talk about Churchill like he just might be their savior.”

Thomas opened his mouth to reply, to say how astonishing this all was and how glad he was that Harry was home. But he found himself too choked up, so instead, he just smiled and clapped his friend on the back again.

“I’ll never forget any of it,” Harry said after a minute. “And neither should you, Thomas. One of these days, you might be the one falling from the sky.”

“I won’t forget,” Thomas said, though he had no intention of getting shot down over France. “I promise.”





CHAPTER THIRTEEN


August 1941

Ruby insisted that Charlotte go home—the longer she stayed, the greater the chance that her parents would awaken and come looking for her—and then as quietly as possible, she moved Dexter into the closet in the hall. She was astonished to find not only that it was large enough to fit a man but that it had been outfitted for just that purpose. There were blankets and a pillow inside, candles and matches, a few tins of food, even some civilian clothes. Marcel had clearly been at this for some time, which made Ruby both furious and proud.

“You’ll be safe here,” she told Dexter. “My husband should be home soon, and he’ll know what to do.”

“I don’t know how to thank you, miss.” He was larger than he had seemed at first, a fact that became quickly apparent as he folded himself into the closet, wincing.

“You can do one thing to thank me.”

“Anything, miss.”

“You can stay alive. I can’t have you dying on my watch, all right?” She was trying to sound confident, but she feared that he could hear the tremor in her voice. “We need you back up in the skies as soon as possible. You must promise that you’ll be okay.”

He smiled weakly. “I promise, miss. And I’ve never gone back on my word with a pretty girl.”

She could feel herself blushing as she shut the hidden door. It had been a long time since anyone had called her that.