Love in the Shadows

34.

JOHANNA HAD WATCHED GERHARD leave without her heart missing a beat. On the contrary, she’d been able to breathe easily for the first time since she’d arrived at the house, and felt almost giddy with excitement for the coming week.

Yesterday, news had arrived in the town about the US troops taking a hold on Normandy. There was a new energy, a rise in optimism, though it was still too much to believe that the war would end any time soon. The allies were advancing at a pace everyone had said, though the German tanks and trucks still passed by on the main road in their hundreds.

Today, everything would change.

This day would mark the end of her old life and the start of a new one.

She tucked the photo of Ralf in the valise between two dresses and closed the lid. She set the case on her bed and went downstairs. Astrid was in the garden with Nanny. Hauptmann Schmidt was packing up their things, working methodically room by room. He had started to store boxes in the foyer ready for collection on their departure in two days’ time. She looked upon them as she walked past and felt nothing.

She ran her hand across the closed lid of the piano with a heavy heart. It would be impossible to save it, though she wished they could. In the end, it had not only been her saviour but also the protector of the children in the cellar. She gazed around the empty walls, thankful not to see either their fathers or Hitler staring back at her, though she would be pleased to watch them all burn to the ground.

Fabienne greeted her with a warm smile as she entered the kitchen. “Madame Guillaume is expecting the girls at the schoolmaster’s house after dinner. She is the woman who took in the boy with the baby we rescued, and they are both doing well. I trust her; she will take good care of the girls. Mamie will drive them over there and then she will come back to the cottage.”

Johanna lit a cigarette and took a long draw.

In two days, Nanny and Schmidt would be heading back to Berlin under the assumption both she and Astrid had died. Nanny would be heartbroken, but that couldn’t be helped. It would take months before the authorities would go through the rubble, by which time she doubted anyone would be interested in whether their bodies had been found or not. Everyone was far too consumed by the war to give her and Astrid’s death any attention. “Nanny will go into town for the Women’s League meeting at eight p.m. Schmidt will take her.”

“I’ll need to shut Réglisse in Nancy’s bedroom to keep him safe with Cleo.”

Johanna glanced through the kitchen window. The kitten was playing with Astrid. He barely left her side, nor she his. She hoped Astrid would be okay without him, and without her. Two nights away from her daughter seemed like a lifetime. Although Astrid hadn’t batted an eyelid at her vater’s departure, and she’d been very excited at the idea of spending the nights with Nancy. If Fabienne trusted the woman, Johanna did too. Still, she worried about being separated from her daughter.

Johanna placed a small cardboard box on the kitchen table. “I’ll get the rations we have left packed up so your grandmother can take them to Madame. There isn’t much.”

“She’ll be glad of anything.” Fabienne tasted the soup cooking on the stove. “I didn’t realise eating vegetables could taste so good,” she said. “That’s ready.”

Johanna closed the space between them. “You taste better,” she whispered.

Fabienne’s breath hitched. She stared at Johanna with a look of longing. There was a quietness there too, that Johanna knew as concern.

“After tonight, everything will be different,” Fabienne said. “Going back to Berlin will be impossible. You won’t exist; your past life will be left behind. Are you still sure about staying?”

Johanna inhaled deeply, released a long breath. “Are you sure about burning down your house?”

Fabienne averted her eyes. “The house was never going to be as I remembered it, and I didn’t expect that we’d get it back. This way it will be worthless, and the Germans will not have any interest in rebuilding it. It will be our land again and when the war is over, we can build a new one.”

Johanna swallowed past the lump in her throat as she thought about all the Frenchwomen had lost, and all that they’d given. “You are an incredible woman, Fabienne Brun, and I’m very lucky to have found you.”

Fabienne’s cheeks coloured. “I assume that means you are staying?”

Johanna laughed. “I’m not going back.”

Fabienne’s gaze softened with the confirmation.

“When we get through this, I’ll write to my mother. Maybe when peace is restored, if she’s well enough, she can come here to live.”

Fabienne touched Johanna’s arm and set off a ripple of desire that stole her breath. “I look forward to sharing a bed with you.”

The intensity in Fabienne’s gaze made Johanna’s insides fizz and her sex ache for her touch.

Fabienne moved past Johanna, towards the kitchen door. “I will leave you to your supper. As soon as they’ve left for town, bring Astrid and Réglisse to the cottage.”

Johanna smiled at Fabienne’s business-like manner. She understood it now and found it endearing. “I can’t wait for this to be over,” she said.

Fabienne came back to her, held her gaze, and kissed her.

***

At seven-fifty, the black car started towards the main road. A couple of minutes later, Johanna strode across the yard with Astrid, who was carrying a cardboard box. Johanna had a box in one hand and a valise in the other. They entered the kitchen in a whirlwind of excited anticipation.

Fabienne ruffled Astrid’s hair. Réglisse meowed from inside the box in her hands. Fabienne took it and set it on the table. “He’s going to have fun playing with Cleo,” she said.

Astrid nodded, though a small frown formed on her brow, and she pursed her lips. Johanna put her arm around her shoulders. “Astrid’s and my clothes,” she said, and set the valise on the floor.

Mamie entered the kitchen with Nancy. “Are my girls ready?”

Nancy ran to Astrid and held her hand. “We’re going on an adventure.”

Astrid looked to Johanna, her eyes glassing over.

“Don’t be scared,” Nancy said, and hugged her tightly. “I’ll look after you.”

Johanna knelt and stroked Astrid’s hair, thumbed the tear from her cheek. “Can you be strong for me?”

Astrid nodded. “I’m scared.”

Nancy put her arm around Astrid’s shoulder. “Don’t be. Madame is kind and she will look after us.”

Fabienne could see that Johanna was trying to be brave, but she too looked seconds away from tears. “Come on, we should get the girls out of here.” She took Astrid and Nancy by the hand and smiled. “Listen, you will be safe with Madame Guillaume, and we will be fine here. And when this is all over and we are back together, we can have a big tea party to celebrate. What do you say?”

Nancy beamed. “Can we make a special cake?”

Fabienne ruffled her hair. “Absolutely.”

“And berry cordial, Mutter?” Astrid asked.

Johanna’s lips quivered as she smiled. “Yes. We will make a big jug of berry cordial.”

Mamie ushered the girls out the door.

Fabienne collected the can of fuel she had acquired from the side of the woodshed, and she and Johanna headed back to the house. She doused the beds in the annex with a little petrol, then moved through the ground floor, dousing the boxes in the foyer, the dining table, the curtains, the piano, and then across the kitchen surface and table, taking care not to splash any on her clothes. The last thing she needed was to be smelling of petrol when the Germans arrived. Johanna cut a towel into strips.

Together, from the annex to the kitchen, they moved swiftly through the house, lighting the strips and throwing them onto the furniture and the floor. The blaze would attract attention for miles, but it would take a vicious hold within a few minutes and be impossible to put out. In the kitchen, they went into the cellar and out through the tunnels, closing the false door behind them. They ran and didn’t stop until they reached the old barn.

Johanna stood with her hands on her hips, puffing hard, her face flushed, her blue eyes darker and more vibrant.

Fabienne went to her and kissed her firmly. “We did it.” She indicated the blazing inferno and smoke streaming into the sky in the near distance, the crackle and creak of wood as it collapsed. The heat reached them in waves, or maybe it was the balmy summer evening. Fabienne couldn’t tell and she didn’t care.

Johanna put her arm around Fabienne’s waist. “We really did it.”

Fabienne indicated to the bag that she’d lodged under the hay earlier in the day. “There is enough food for a few days, a change of clothes, and your new ID. She picked up the bag and took out the card that read Juliette Brun. There is also a dye for your hair. Do that as soon as I leave. Behind the barn is a stream. Mamie will leave Astrid’s ID with Madame Guillaume for when we pick up the girls.”

Nancy had been excited that Astrid would be living with them at the cottage. Fabienne had never felt as much love as she did in this moment, and the happiness in Johanna’s eyes brought her to tears.

Johanna came to her and held her tightly. “We owe you our lives,” she whispered. “And I give you mine forever.” She cupped Fabienne’s face and kissed her.

The depth of passion made Fabienne weak, but now wasn’t a good time to lose concentration, though she could easily have curled up with Johanna in the barn and stayed with her for the night. She had to get back to the cottage. She had to try and help put out the fire. “I must go. I will come for you once they’ve gone to Berlin and once I know you will be safe. Dye your hair. When I come back, I will cut it.”

Johanna kissed her.

Fabienne ran back through the woods as fast as she could and watched the blaze from the side of the cottage as she caught her breath. Two fire trucks had arrived, and the men were doing their best, but the upper levels were solid timber and already consumed by wild flames. The roof had partially collapsed, and it wouldn’t be long before the rest caved. She ran to where the trucks had stopped, some distance from the front of the property.

“I need to help,” she said. She was brushed aside by the fire commander, a Frenchman she recognised.

“Is there anyone inside?”

“Yes. Frau Neumann and her daughter Astrid were living there.”

He shook his head. “No one will have got out of that.”

Mamie arrived in the van, parked outside the cottage, and approached Fabienne with her hand pressed to her mouth. “Oh my God. Where are the kommandant’s wife and child?”

The commander indicated to the house. “They will have perished. It’s gone up quickly.”

“But how?” Fabienne said. She paced back and forth with an expression of confusion and concern.

The commander shrugged. “Who knows. There should be an investigation, but it will take months if it happens at all. There’s nothing we can do here. You need to stay away from it. We have more important things to tend to.” He went to his men and instructed them to stop fighting the fire. They got into their vehicles and made their way back to the main road.

Fabienne watched the fire blaze, with Mamie beside her. The heat burned her face and stung her eyes. It wasn’t too long before she spied the black car heading towards them. Clearly, word had got out about the fire and Nanny had left the meeting earlier than planned. Fabienne braced herself for what she knew was coming next.

Hauptmann Schmidt strode up to her. “What’s happened? Where’s Frau Neumann and the child?”

Being subjected to the heat had caused Fabienne to sweat, and her eyes to burn enough to release tears naturally. She would look a mess and distraught. She rubbed her cuff across her face. “I don’t know.”

Nanny approached them and glanced from Fabienne to Mamie. She didn’t appear distraught or even shocked. An understanding passed between them.

Nanny turned her attention to Schmidt. “Frau Neumann was planning an early night. She told me she had a headache. This is utterly devastating.” She rubbed her eyes, pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose into it.

Schmidt glared at Fabienne, then strode towards the cottage. “Let me inside.”

Fabienne followed and opened the door. “Frau Moreau is asleep with…” She stopped because he’d already gone up the stairs and woken her. He slammed a door.

Bénédicte cried.

Another door slammed and then another, until eventually he reappeared in the kitchen, his face twisted with rage. “What have you done with Frau Neumann?”

Fabienne shook her head. “I have done nothing. I was here, in the kitchen, and by the time I saw the fire, it was too late to go inside.”

He strode outside, searched the perimeter and returned to Nanny. “We will stay here tonight.”

Nanny shook her head and patted her cheek with the handkerchief. “I will not stay in that cottage and watch this house fall to the ground. I nursed Frau Neumann as a baby, then her son, and her daughter Astrid. All three of them are dead, and my heart is broken beyond repair. You will take me to a friend’s house, and you can sleep at the barracks.”

He straightened his back. “I insist that we stay here until we know for sure what has happened.”

Nanny took in a deep breath. “There is nothing to see here, Hauptmann Schmidt. They are not going to walk out from that inferno.” She pointed. “And they are not in the cottage, I assume.”

He shook his head.

“So, would you propose that we wait for how long exactly?” She puffed her chest out. “I have heard enough foolishness this evening. It grieves me deeply to say it, but they are gone, and tomorrow, so will we be. Now, take me away from this God forsaken place.”

He clicked his heels and strode back to the car.

Nanny glanced from Mamie to Fabienne, then watched Schmidt until he got into the car. “Take care of them both,” she said.

Fabienne blinked, though she was in no doubt as to what she had just heard.

Nanny sighed. “We will leave for Berlin in the morning, I will make sure of it.”

A tear slipped onto Fabienne’s cheek as Nanny was driven away.

Mamie squeezed her arm. “We did it.”

They had.

“I have to go,” Fabienne said, and ran.

***

Johanna lay against the bale of hay, watching the fire as the smell of burning wood filled her nostrils. Ash moved like snow across the sky. She felt alone and yet hopeful. She had dyed her hair, and it hung wet; her head tingled from the dye. She wondered about the house: the hundreds of years that it had stood, and the minutes it had taken to raise it to the ground, and the Pleyel grand piano that had produced such a pure sound that would no longer be heard. So much loss; too much.

The rustling sound outside the barn startled her from her musings. Her heart raced as she suddenly realised it could be German soldiers combing the woods. It was a ridiculous thought, since she was insignificant, not worthy of a search. She jumped to her feet, intending to hide, but before she could move Fabienne appeared in the opening.

Johanna’s heart slowed, the sight melting her. Sadness became relief, turned into joy, and tumbled into love, and then elation caused her to laugh uncontrollably. She’d left a world behind, but she’d gained a lifetime and a future for her daughter.

Fabienne grinned. “We did it.”

Johanna took Fabienne into her arms, tears streaming onto her cheeks, and kissed her hard. As she eased out of the kiss, Fabienne stared at her with such intensity she thought her heart might burst.

Fabienne ran her fingers lightly through Johanna’s dyed hair. “Brown suits you.”

“I want you to cut it short, so I can forget who I was.” When Fabienne picked up the scissors, took a small handful of hair and snipped close to Johanna’s neck, a shiver trembled through her. Fear or excitement, she couldn’t tell. With time, she would adjust fully to the new look, the new identity, the new life.

“I want to be with you tonight, Johanna.”

She turned and caressed Fabienne’s cheek. The emotion she saw in Fabienne’s eyes reflected her own; the sense of loss was strong, but it wasn’t just that. It was the start of a new beginning, and there was hope there too, and that was something she would hold onto until her last breath if she had to. “Juliette now,” she said. “Johanna died in that fire along with her daughter.”

Fabienne smiled wearily, leaned forwards and kissed her. “Tomorrow, after they’ve gone, we’ll go home and get the girls.”

Home, with the girls. No music had ever sounded sweeter.

Juliette Brun was a Frenchwoman with German roots that with time would become the foundation for new culture and a new history. Her daughter, now Anne Brun, would become the person she was meant to be, and she, Juliette, was the luckiest woman alive. She stroked Fabienne’s cheek. “I would like that very much.”

She lay on the hay bale and held Fabienne’s hand, gazing through the hole in the roof. The smoke eventually thinned enough to see the stars clearly.

“Nanny knows you’re alive,” Fabienne said. “She protected you from Schmidt and told me to take care of you.”

Juliette tightened her grip as the ache in her heart said goodbye to Nanny. Maybe their paths would cross again after the war. At least Nanny had been spared the heartbreak. “I’m glad,” she said.

Fabienne wrapped her arm around Johanna’s shoulder and drew her close, kissed her head. “We still have to make it to the end of the war.”

Juliette lay her head on Fabienne’s chest, breathing in the scent of her, the smell of smoke and a hint of petrol. It wasn’t exactly the soapy aroma of vanilla or rose, but that time would come soon enough. She traced Fabienne’s arm along the line of the scar. She had known she was falling in love with her before she’d tended to those wounds. She was reminded of having saved the children and being stopped by the guards, and yes, it had been worth it, and she would do it all again.

“I’m never letting you go,” she said, and closed her eyes to enjoy the slow steady beat of Fabienne’s heart.