The Room on Rue Amélie(26)

The next day was awful. It seemed to drag on forever, and though Ruby did her best to go about her normal routine—heading out with her ration tickets to stand in line, sweeping and mopping the apartment, writing to her parents yet again—her mind was on the pilot. Was he okay? There wasn’t a thing she could do while it was light out. And she still had no way to reach Marcel.

She waited until midnight to venture out of her apartment, standing for a long time in the hall to listen for anyone stirring. But the building appeared to be asleep, and so she crept to the closet and opened it by pushing on the panel Charlotte had shown her the night before. When the door swung silently out, the scent of sweat and urine was so strong that it nearly choked her; she took a step back, coughing. Then she held her breath and leaned forward again, searching the darkness.

“Dexter?” she whispered.

“Miss?” The voice was weak, tremulous, but hearing it filled her with a wave of relief.

“You’re okay. Oh, thank God.”

“I made a promise, didn’t I?” She could hear his smile in the darkness.

“Indeed you did. How are you? Can I bring you anything?”

“Oh, I’m doing just great, miss. I suppose a bit of water would be nice, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

“Of course.” Ruby shut the closet, hurried into her own apartment, and returned a moment later with a full glass. How had she not thought to bring him water earlier? She stood in the hall for a few moments again, listening for movement in the building, before quietly opening the door to the closet, holding her breath, and handing the glass into the darkness.

“Thank you,” Dexter murmured weakly, and then she could hear him drinking in big, grateful gulps. When he handed the glass back seconds later, he added, “And listen, I’m quite sorry about the, er, smell in here.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“That’s awfully kind of you to say, miss. Only I know it’s terrible.”

“It’s really not so bad. How’s the shoulder?”

He hesitated. “Oh, healing up nicely, I think.”

Ruby knew it was a lie. “Look, if my husband isn’t home by tomorrow, I promise I’ll find help.”

“I don’t want to put you in any danger, miss.”

Ruby felt a surge of gratitude and shame. “Dexter, you risked your life because you knew it could make a difference in the war. What kind of a person would I be if I didn’t do the same?”

“You don’t owe me anything, miss. Even this, hiding me at your own risk, is more than I would have expected. You’re very brave.”

“Hardly.” In fact, she felt like a fraud taking any sort of credit for work Marcel had clearly set in motion. “Sit tight, Dexter. You’re going to be okay.”

“Thank you, miss,” he replied softly as she closed the door. “Good night.”



MARCEL CAME HOME TWO HOURS later, just past two in the morning.

“Oh, thank God,” Ruby said, rising to her feet as soon as he walked in. She’d never been so relieved to see him.

He looked startled to see her waiting for him. “Ruby, what is it? Has something happened?”

“When were you going to tell me?” she demanded, instead of answering.

“Tell you what?”

“About the pilots you’ve been hiding.”

Marcel went entirely still for a split second, and then he was at her side, grasping her arm so tightly she knew he’d leave a bruise. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ruby stood her ground. “The hiding space in the hall outside our apartment? The secret late-night meetings? How could you be doing something so dangerous right under my nose without telling me?”

“You can’t say such things, Ruby. It’s careless.”

“I would have helped you, you know. You didn’t give me the chance.”

“Ruby, it’s my job to protect you.”

“Protect me? Marcel, I needed your protection and support when I lost the baby, and you left me entirely alone. This would give me a purpose again. Don’t you see that? If you really want to protect me, you’ll trust me. After all, there’s a pilot in the closet right now, and I’ve managed to keep him safe for a day without you, haven’t I?”

He looked up in surprise. “There’s a pilot in the closet now?”

“He came in last night. He desperately needs medical care, but he’s alive.”

Marcel sat down heavily in an armchair. “The more I tell you, the more danger I put you in.”

“I’m hiding an RAF pilot, Marcel. I think it’s a bit too late for that.”

He sighed and remained silent for what felt like a long time. “I’ve been working with this escape line for more than a year now. We get Allied pilots out through Spain.”

“Through Spain? Who are you working with?”

He shook his head and pressed his lips together. “Better you don’t know.”

Ruby gritted her teeth. “I thought you were going to trust me.”

“Ruby, we only know those who come directly before us or after us on the line. It’s better that way. If any of us is captured by the Nazis, it reduces the number of people we’re capable of giving up.”