Love in the Shadows

30.

JOHANNA WAS HALFWAY THROUGH Debussy’s “Clair de Lune” when Gerhard arrived home on the Wednesday evening.

Sixteen children had been successfully rehomed with families in the town. The final three siblings would leave in the morning. The insecurities she’d struggled with on the first day had been replaced with quiet confidence and an overwhelming sense of achievement that was bigger than anything she’d felt when playing for the orchestra.

Gerhard dismissed Schmidt and entered the living room. He didn’t question why she was playing the music of a banned composer. Instead, he put his hat on the sideboard, took his seat at the table, and poured himself a drink.

It was forty-eight hours before Operation Dijon, so she guessed he was preoccupied. His sullenness was nothing new. She continued to play.

“You are playing more these days,” he said.

“It helps me cope with my grief,” she said, sharply.

He drank his wine and rubbed his face. Fleetingly, she felt sorry for him, locked inside himself as he was. Loneliness was a painful-enough prison without having loss for a cellmate.

“That’s good,” he said.

For some reason, his comment made her want to stop playing. As if he was giving his approval, and she didn’t want or need it. She closed the lid and went to the kitchen for their food. She set his plate in front of him and started towards the other end of the table.

“Sit here,” he said, pointing to the seat closest to him.

Her throat constricted at the thought of sitting anywhere near him. “Why?”

He glanced up at her without raising his head. “Because I would like to feel as though I’m eating dinner with my wife this evening.”

She set her plate on the table and sat down as he instructed, hating that she conceded so easily. He poured her a glass of wine, finished his own glass, and refilled it.

He started to eat. “How was your day?”

His interest surprised her. She took a drink to settle the edge that rattled her. “It was the same as most days here.”

She heard a faint noise: a muffled cough or a sneeze. He seemed not to notice. The sound came again, and he studied her.

“Is Astrid still not well?”

Her mouth was dry. She released a tight breath and wetted her lips. “She’s a bit brighter.”

“Nanny told me…”

Johanna froze. What had Nanny said?

“…that they’ve been exploring the garden. If Astrid has a cough, is that wise?”

He had heard the noise from the cellar and thought it was from upstairs. Johanna picked at the food on her plate, clattering her fork harder than was normal. She couldn’t face eating anything, for fear the food would get stuck in her throat, and she hoped the noise would be a distraction from any other strange sounds. “The weather has been better. I thought it might do her some good.”

“And what about you? You haven’t caught it?” He piled food into his mouth.

“Apparently not.” She sipped her wine. “If you could get hold of more antibiotics, I’m sure that would help Astrid.”

She smiled like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, relieved that Nanny hadn’t said anything that might make Gerhard suspicious. Nanny hadn’t known about Astrid’s alleged cough; that was one of her and Astrid’s little secrets, along with a kitten with a French name and the woman in the cottage with a baby. Astrid had been excited to play the illness game as it meant she didn’t have to face her father.

Gerhard swallowed his food and slugged his wine. “I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise. The situation is changing, Johanna. We cannot get hold of the things we need for our soldiers.”

“Is this something I should worry about?”

He frowned and pursed his lips. “This is war, Johanna. There is always uncertainty. However, I’m confident that everything will be resolved in the next few days.” He finished his wine and refilled his glass.

Johanna was sure he was referring to the planned operation. “Does this resolution have something to do with the increase in armoured convoys over the past few days?” She was pushing for information in case there was something that might help the Resistance.

“I’d rather spare you the details. It’s for your own good. Suffice it to say, we are embarking on a strong offensive so there are large deployments to support the front line. The Americans appear to be trying to thwart our efforts, but rest assured they will not prevail.”

“Are we still safe here?” she asked, because he hadn’t answered the question directly.

He stared at her, through her, consumed by his “important work”. She was, and would always be, an inconvenience he had to endure. He let his fork drop idly onto his plate, wiped his face with his napkin and threw it on top. “I believe so, yes.”

She poked at the food around her plate, and, reminded of Fabienne telling her she needed the energy, she ate.

“I’m going to church tomorrow,” she said.

She hadn’t told Fabienne that she planned to go with her on the last trip with the children. She was aware of an increase in the number of soldiers on the streets. Nanny had mentioned it, and Schmidt had complained about the number of vehicles on the roads when going to get rations. Yesterday, Fabienne had been stopped on the morning run to the barracks, and then a second time on the way back home. If Johanna was in the van with her, the soldiers would most likely let them pass without searching the back. And Johanna wanted to see the result of all their hard work, rather than just fill water jugs.

“You haven’t been to church since you got here,” he said.

“I hadn’t lost a son then.” Her retort was sharp, and he twitched and undid the collar of his shirt.

“Schmidt will go with you.” He scratched his neck.

She took a slug of wine. “No, Gerhard, I have arranged to go with Fraulein Brun. She has to collect rations so she can drop me off.”

He slammed his hand on the table. “Johanna, I forbid—”

She held her palm up to him. She’d expected him to react badly and rehearsed her response. “Schmidt is needed here to protect our daughter.” He couldn’t very well argue against that.

“I disagree with you going with the Frenchwoman, but I have more important things to give my attention to. I’m going to bed.” He stood up, dragging the chair, picked up the bottle of wine and his glass, and headed up the stairs.

Johanna cleared away the plates. She didn’t feel ready to go to bed. She went outside and onto the lawn, sat on the swing and stared up at the stars. There was a new wave of popping and crackling tonight, as though the war had reverted. Gerhard had intimated that the allies were advancing, and that whatever the operation was that was happening on Friday, he was sure it would be to Germany’s advantage. Johanna prayed the operation would be stopped by the Resistance, that the allies would continue to advance, and that they would bring a speedy end to the war.

She spotted the red glow to her left, at the side of the house next to the kitchen, the tip of a cigarette being smoked. Fabienne was leaning against the wall, watching her.

Johanna got off the swing and went to her. “What are you doing here?”

Fabienne smiled. “You keep asking me that question. I didn’t want to go to bed yet and I saw you on the swing.” She held out the packet of cigarettes, and Johanna took one.

As Fabienne lit it, there was a thunderous roar and she looked towards the road. “It’s almost as bad as when they first moved through here.”

“Gerhard said they are mounting an offensive. The Americans seem to be having an impact, thank God.”

“I hope the Americans are smashing the shit out of them.” Fabienne drew down, and after a pause blew the smoke skyward. “Can you imagine what it will be like to stargaze when all this is over – no noise, no threat, drinking wine, lying on a rug on the grass? It’s been so long, I can’t even remember what it was like before, with my parents. Not properly. When I think about those times, I can see the picture clearly, but there’s just an emptiness. Not even sadness anymore. Just a void.”

Johanna put her hand on Fabienne’s chest, felt her heartbeat fast and hard. “I will lay on the grass with you, and count the stars with you, and you can tell me about those times with your parents, and I will tell you about mine. We’ll rebuild the parts of us that the war has damaged, and together we’ll be stronger.”

Fabienne smiled. “And what about your husband and daughter?”

She slid her hand to rest on Fabienne’s breast, brushed her thumb across her nipple. Fabienne moaned softly. “My husband and I have lived a lie for long enough. He will not argue against a divorce once the war has ended, and Astrid hates him.”

Fabienne caressed Johanna’s cheek as if she were something precious that might be easily broken, taking Johanna’s breath away. Then she swept the hair that had fallen across Johanna’s face and tucked it behind her ear. Traced a line down her neck, and up the back of her hair. It was exquisite to be touched with such tenderness.

“It is not going to be easy being a German here after the war.”

Johanna loved that Fabienne talked with unwavering confidence about things going back to the way they were. “I will change my identity if I have to,” she said.

Fabienne’s kiss was tender, and over too quickly.

“I had best get back,” Fabienne said.

Johanna watched her walk across the yard, then she finished her cigarette and went to bed. It was going to be an early start and she doubted she would get much sleep, given she was wired about doing the mission and very aroused by Fabienne.