“The streets of Paris can be confusing, especially in the eighth arrondissement where the embassy is located. Besides, you need something to eat. We’ve been subsisting on handouts of canned peas and pickled preserves, and my aunt’s pantry will likely have better rations.”
“Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?”
Her eyes met his. “No trouble at all. I’ll take you there while I’m waiting for Lucette.”
He smiled. “Very well. Thank you.”
At noon, they reached a north suburb of Paris and the roads were clogged with refugees who were entering the city. Ruth and her group, deciding it was faster to walk, thanked the old man and woman for the ride and exited the wagon.
“I might not see you again,” Lucette said to Jimmie. She gave him alternating kisses on the cheeks. “Take care of yourself.”
“You too,” he said. “I can’t thank you and Ruth enough for what you’ve done for me. You and Paul will remain in my thoughts.”
“Merci.” Lucette turned and walked down the street.
Ruth watched her disappear into a crowd and hoped that her friend would receive good news about her fiancé.
Ruth led them to the nearby Riquet station of the Paris Métro and discovered that the trains were not running. They were an hour or so walk from the apartment, and Ruth desperately wanted to notify her aunt and uncle that she was safe. She entered a telephone booth with dingy white tiles and a smell of stale cigarette smoke. She placed the receiver to her ear and inserted a coin, given to her by Pierre. Her adrenaline surged at the sound of ringing and, eventually, the voice of a female operator. Ruth, assuming her aunt and uncle would be at work, asked the woman to connect her to Saint-Antoine Hospital.
“Please hold,” the operator said.
Seconds later a female receptionist answered. “Bonjour, Saint-Antoine hôpital.”
“May I speak with Colette Bloch,” Ruth said, her voice shaky. “She’s a surgery nurse on the second floor.”
“Medical staff are not permitted to accept calls while on duty,” the woman said. “I can take a message.”
“S’il vous plaît, the matter is urgent.”
“I’m sorry. Message only, or you can speak with her when she’s off duty.”
Ruth slumped her shoulders. “All right. Please give a note to Colette that her niece, Ruth, called. If she’s unavailable, deliver the message to her husband, Julian Bloch, a surgeon at the hospital. The message should read that I have returned to Paris from the battlefront with two people who need a place to stay.”
“Oh, my,” the receptionist said. “Were you near the combat?”
“Oui, I’m an ambulance driver for the army.”
The woman paused, as if she were scribbling on a piece of paper.
“Would you like me to repeat the message?”
“Non,” the receptionist said. “I think I can make an exception in this case. May I place you on hold?”
“Of course, merci.”
Minutes later, Colette’s voice came through the receiver. “Ruth?”
Tears blurred Ruth’s vision. “Oui. It’s me.”
“Dieu merci,” Colette cried. “Are you safe?”
“I am. I arrived in Paris late this morning. I’ll be at the apartment in an hour or two. I have much to tell you, but Lucette and I will be reporting back for duty later today, and I wanted to let you know that we’re all right.” Ruth drew a deep breath and glanced through the glass window of the telephone booth. “I brought two people who fled their home that was in the path of the German invasion. A man named Pierre and his nine-year-old granddaughter, Aline, need shelter. Aline’s mother was killed in a German air raid.”
“I’m so sorry,” Colette said. “Please put them in Marceau’s room, and tell them that they’re welcome to stay as long as they need.”
“I will. That’s what I thought you would say. Merci.” Ruth tightened her grip on the receiver. “Are you and Uncle Julian safe in Paris?”
“For now,” Colette said, the happiness gone from her voice. “Most of the troops, who were guarding the city, have been sent north or to the coast.”
“Are the rumors about the BEF evacuation at Dunkirk true?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “There’s little information on the war available. Most of the newspapers have ceased publishing, and the government is controlling the amount of information that is released by radio.”
Oh, God.
“I’ll try to send a telegram to inform your parents, but it might not get through. We’ll talk more later. I need to report to surgery; the hospital received an inflow of injured soldiers from the field. I don’t know when your uncle and I will be able to come home.”
“Lucette and I are going to the ambulance corps headquarters. There’s a chance I might miss you if they decide to immediately redeploy us.”
“I’m grateful to hear your voice,” Colette said, her voice quavering. “I’m proud of you.”
Ruth rubbed her eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Ruth hung up the receiver. A blend of sadness and dread swirled inside her. She exited the telephone booth and rejoined the others.
“Everything all right?” Jimmie asked.
