“She ended our relationship when I told her that I wanted to join the RAF. She thought it was a waste of my degree in general engineering, and that it was foolish of me to risk my life as a fighter pilot.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Four months later, Vera was engaged to a barrister in Sussex.”
“Gosh. Were you upset?”
“At first,” he said. “But as time went on, I realized that we were quite different people. I’ve always dreamed of flying, but I joined the RAF to fight the rise of fascism. Someday, I want to be with a woman who is willing to chase their aspirations, as well as place the needs of a nation ahead of their own.”
Her eyes met his. “It was a good thing that it didn’t work out.”
“Indeed.”
Ruth glanced at Pierre sleeping beside Aline. “I’m glad they have a dry place to rest.”
“Me too.” Jimmie leaned his back against the wall.
She nudged his boot, the heel clumped with mud. “I saw that you gave Aline your good luck charm.”
“She’s been through a lot,” he said. “I thought it might provide her with a bit of comfort and hope, and I think Nora would be glad that her Piglet is keeping her company.”
You’re sweet and kind. Ruth, as if by reflex, gently touched his hand. “I’m sorry that your plane was shot down and you injured your arm, but we’re fortunate to have you with us.”
He clasped her fingers. “I’m the one who feels lucky.”
Her skin tingled, and she squeezed his hand.
A distant rumble of bombs rolled over the countryside. Several refugees lifted their heads and peered toward the ceiling.
Aline stirred, got to her feet, and approached them.
Ruth eased her hand away. “Is everything okay?”
Aline rubbed her eyes. “Toilette.”
“I’ll take you.” Ruth looked at Jimmie. “You should get some rest.”
“I will, after you return.”
She nodded and stood.
Ruth and Aline left the stall and crossed the floor of the barn, all the while being careful not to disturb people who were sleeping on the ground. Outside, the rain had stopped and the cool, damp air was decorated with the sound of chirping crickets. Moonlight shimmered over the landscape as they walked past the farmhouse, its front porch lined with slumbering people wrapped in blankets, to an outhouse near the edge of a forest.
“It looks empty,” Ruth said, “but knock before going inside.”
Aline nodded. She scurried ahead, tapped on the door, and entered.
Voices drifted from inside the farmhouse, packed with people. Far to the north, artillery fire flashed on the horizon. Seconds later, a rumble of explosions echoed over the farm.
Ruth’s shoulder muscles tensed. She crossed her arms and scanned the area.
The outhouse door creaked open and Aline stepped out.
“I should go, too,” Ruth said. “Wait here.”
“All right,” Aline said.
Ruth entered the outhouse and was met by a strong smell of ammonia and excrement. She held her breath, hiked up her skirt, and lowered her underwear.
The sound of footsteps grew outside.
Hairs rose on the back of Ruth’s neck. She peered at a half-moon-shaped hole in the door.
Aline gasped.
Ruth, her heart racing, yanked up her underwear and sprang from the outhouse to find Aline, facing a young man in a French Army trench coat. She froze.
“Are you a soldier?” Aline asked.
“Oui.” The man, holding a small bundle of clothes, glanced at the farmhouse.
Ruth, feeling confused, placed an arm around Aline. “What are you doing here?”
The man lowered his eyes and shifted his weight.
Ruth’s heart rate quickened. “What’s happened?”
“I—” The man swallowed. He tucked the clothing, which included a worn pair of leather shoes, inside his trench coat.
Oh, God. She pulled Aline close. “Why are you deserting?”
His shoulders drooped. “We can’t stop them. Much of our army is defeated, and the British are being evacuated to England.”
