“Yes, I believe the man’s story.”
Ruth’s shoulders tensed and she clasped her cup with both hands. “If it’s true, it means that Paris will fall.”
“And France, I’m afraid.”
Her stomach ached. “The French armies were immense, and the battle at Sedan began less than a month ago.” She pushed aside her cup. “The Great War lasted for four years. How can the country be lost so fast?”
“The same way as Poland, the Netherlands, Belgium, and others,” he said. “Germany’s Panzers and Luftwaffe are too strong to stop.”
This can’t be happening! “Maybe the French Army can hold them off until the BEF can return.”
He shook his head. “It will take a long time before a counterattack can be made. I suspect that the forces will be placed in defensive positions to protect Britain from a German invasion.”
Her mind raced, struggling to come to terms with what her gut already knew. She’d seen the devastation on the front, the speed of the German tanks, and the bombs and death bestowed on Paris, a place that the French believed would be immune from the ravages of war. But still, she clung to hope that France would somehow retain its sovereignty.
“The war is not lost,” Jimmie said, as if he could read her thoughts. “The soldiers, who are evacuated to Britain, have survived to fight another day. Someday, France will be free.”
She drew a deep breath and nodded. “What are you going to do?”
“Eventually, I will travel to the coast, likely somewhere in Brittany, perhaps the Loire estuary.” He looked at her. “I wanted you, Lucette, and your aunt and uncle to know about the information that is not being reported in broadcasts. I’ve been searching for you since my visit to the embassy. I was worried that you might have gone away to the front, and I decided to wait here to inform your aunt and uncle, but they haven’t come home.”
Ruth placed her palms on the table. For several minutes she told him everything—the French Army having no reserve ambulances, her rescue work at the demolished Citroën automobile factory, and her aunt and uncle who were treating injured children whose school was struck by German bombs.
“Bloody hell.” Jimmie ran a hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry.”
Ruth nodded and picked at a scratch on the table. “My aunt and uncle will not be able to leave the hospital until morning, perhaps later.”
“How are you holding up?”
Her chest felt tight. “Not so well. You?”
“Same.” Jimmie shifted in his seat. “Will you leave Paris?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m scared to stay, but I also feel that it is my duty to help injured soldiers and civilians.”
“Even if there is no ambulance for you to drive?”
“I can volunteer at a hospital, or maybe I can find another post.” Until the German Army reaches Paris.
Jimmie rubbed his forehead. “Pierre has decided that he and Aline will go south, before the Germans reach Paris. I plan to go with them, and I’ll try to get them on board a ship to cross the Channel.” He looked into her eyes. “I want you to come with me.”
Ruth swallowed. “I don’t think I can bring myself to give up, at least not yet, and I can’t abandon Lucette and my aunt and uncle.”
He touched her hand. “We’ll bring them with us.”
Ruth felt torn, like a string of paper dolls cut in half. “We need to inform them about your news so they can make their own decision, but I can’t promise to go with you.”
“You do not need to decide tonight.” He squeezed her fingers. “Please give me your word that you’ll consider it.”
“I will,” she said.
Jimmie, appearing satisfied, gently slipped his hand away. He rose from his seat and went to the pantry.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m making you something to eat.” He retrieved a zucchini and an onion.
“I could simply have some bread or a piece of cheese, if there is any left.”
“Nonsense. You need a warm meal.”
I’m exhausted. It’d be best for me to eat something easy and go off to bed, Ruth thought. But, even more than sleep, I need his closeness. “Thank you. Will you have some with me?”
“Perhaps a bit.” He turned to her. “I have an idea.”
“What’s that?”
“Tonight, let’s forget about the war. Let’s be two ordinary people who enjoy a meal together, then you’ll get some sleep.”
“That sounds lovely.”
He sliced a zucchini and a peeled onion, placed them in an iron skillet with a splash of olive oil and salt, and put it on the stove to heat.
She sipped her coffee as he stood over the stove with a wooden spoon. Soon, the succulent aroma of sauteed vegetables filled the kitchen, awakening her hunger. Her mouth watered. “It smells wonderful. I didn’t know that pilots could cook.”
“Some can.” Jimmie raised his spoon. “Even one-armed aviators.”
She smiled and finished her coffee. “Do you like Armagnac?”
