The Other Side of Midnight

One Friday night after a performance, Noelle was in her dressing room at the theater creaming off her makeup, when there was a knock at the door, and Marius, the elderly, crippled stage doorman, entered.

"Pardon, Miss Page, a gentleman asked me to bring these to you."

Noelle glanced up in the mirror and saw that he was carrying an enormous bouquet of red roses in an exquisite vase.

"Set it down there, Marius," Noelle said, and she watched as he carefully placed the vase of roses on a table.

It was late November and no one in Paris had seen roses for more than three months. There must have been four dozen of them, ruby red, long-stemmed, wet with dew. Curious, Noelle walked over and picked up the card. It read: "To the lovely Fraulein Page. Would you have supper with me? General Hans Scheider."

The vase that the flowers rested in was delft, intricately patterned and very expensive. General Scheider had gone to a great deal of trouble.

"He would like an answer," the stage doorman said.

"Tell him I never eat supper and take these home to your wife."

He stared at her in surprise. "But the General..."

"That is all."

Marius nodded his head, picked up the vase and hurried out. Noelle knew that he would rush to spread the story of how she had defied a German general. It had happened before with other German officials, and the French people regarded her as some kind of heroine. It was ridiculous. The truth of the matter was that Noelle had nothing against the Nazis, she was merely indifferent to them. They were not a part of her life or her plans, and she simply tolerated them, awaiting the day when they would return home. She knew that if she became involved with any Germans it would hurt her. Not now, perhaps, but it was not the present Noelle was concerned about; it was the future. She thought that the idea of the Third Reich ruling for one thousand years was merde. Any student of history knew that eventually all conquerors were conquered. In the meantime she would do nothing that would allow her fellow Frenchmen to turn on her when the Germans were finally ousted. She was totally untouched by the Nazi occupation and when the subject came up--as it constantly did--Noelle avoided any discussion about it.

Fascinated by her attitude, Armand Gautier often tried to draw her out on the subject.

"Don't you care that the Nazis have conquered France?" he would ask her.

"Would it matter if I cared?"

"That's not the point. If everyone felt as you do, we would be damned."

"We are damned anyway, are we not?"

"Not if we believe in free will. Do you think our life is ordained from the time we are born?"

"To some degree. We are given bodies, our birthplace and our station in life, but that does not mean that we cannot change. We can become anything we want to be."

"My point exactly. That is why we must fight the Nazis."

She looked at him. "Because God is on our side?"

"Yes," he replied.

"If there is a God," Noelle answered reasonably, "and He created them, then He must be on their side, also."

In October, the first anniversary of Noelle's play, the backers gave a party for the cast at Tour d'Argent. There was a mixture of actors, bankers and influential businessmen. The guests were mostly French, but there were a dozen Germans at the party, a few of them in uniform, all of them except one with French girls. The exception was a German officer in his forties, with a long, lean intelligent face, deep green eyes and a trim, athletic body. A narrow scar ran from his cheekbone to his chin. Noelle was aware that he had been watching her all evening although he had not come near her.

"Who is that man?" she casually asked one of the hosts.

He glanced over at the officer who was sitting alone at a table sipping champagne, then turned to Noelle in surprise. "It is strange you should ask. I thought he was a friend of yours. That is General Hans Scheider. He is on the General Staff." Noelle remembered the roses and the card. "Why did you think he was a friend of mine?" she asked.

The man appeared flustered. "I naturally assumed...I mean, every play and motion picture produced in France must be approved by the Germans. When the censor tried to stop your new movie from being made, the General personally stepped in and gave his approval."

At that moment Armand Gautier brought someone to meet Noelle and the conversation changed.

Noelle paid no further attention to General Scheider.

The next evening when she arrived at her dressing room, there was one rose in a small vase with a little card that said: "Perhaps we should start smaller. May I see you? Hans Scheider."

Noelle tore up the note and threw the flower into the wastebasket.