The Pianist’s Wife

Chapter Six Berlin, 1943 Four Years Later

Chapter Six

Berlin, 1943

Four Years Later

Amira held out her arms to Gisele’s beautiful daughter. Her blonde curls bounced as she ran to her, throwing herself at Amira for a hug. In a world that was fast losing its light, Frieda’s infectious smiles and laughter sometimes felt like the sun itself. Amira knew she would never take their visits for granted. It was especially nice to be around such loved children, when her days were mostly filled with caring for children who’d lost both parents – of which there were an ever-increasing number. It broke her heart, but at the same time made her more determined to help in any way she could.

‘Well, I came to see your mother,’ Amira said with a laugh as she bounced her on her knee. ‘But clearly it was you who wanted to see me!’

Frieda smiled up at Amira, who couldn’t have been happier to receive so much love from the little girl. Her older brother, Archie, was at kindergarten, and her little brother had fallen asleep, which meant she had Amira’s undivided attention. Gisele and Hans had married quickly and started a family even faster, which meant that they had three young children with barely a year between each one.

‘Sometimes I find it hard to believe that you have three children,’ she said to Gisele, who was seated across from her, her sleeping son in her arms. ‘I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like.’ She regretted the words the moment they came from her mouth; it was such a touchy subject, the fact that Gisele had been able to marry young and have a family, while Amira’s life had essentially been paused due to how careful she had to be.

Gisele looked up and smiled, as if she knew what Amira had meant, stroking her son’s hair from his forehead. ‘I know how lucky I am, but I’m just so tired all the time. Especially with being pregnant again.’

‘Can I help you with anything while I’m here?’ Amira said.

‘Please, just sit and talk to me while Lukas is sleeping. Having you here is such a treat.’ She frowned. ‘You must be anxious about Maxi being sent away again so soon.’

‘It’s all I can think about. I can’t imagine what it’ll be like once he’s gone again, especially with my father away, too.’ Maxi had been posted overseas for much of the past four years, only returning home for six weeks’ leave that was almost over already.

‘He’s still being patient about waiting?’ Gisele asked.

‘As patient as a young man could be. Although I think if he was home on leave for any longer it would become difficult to keep making excuses,’ she said. ‘Sometimes I wish I could just tell him the truth. I’ve been so close to just confessing to him, but...’

‘You can’t tell him,’ Gisele said. ‘I have every reason to believe he’d be sympathetic, it’s obvious he loves you, but—’

‘I know,’ Amira said. ‘It’s too much of a risk.’

She was eternally grateful that Gisele had been able to host them so often while Maxi had been home on leave, otherwise she feared that she wouldn’t have seen him at all. And as nervous as she was about being in her apartment alone this month, with her father being sent temporarily to Sachsenhausen, the closest camp to Berlin, to study the papers from incoming prisoners, it had allowed her time to see Maxi.

Her father had promised to return by the end of the month, assuring her that he’d soon be back in Berlin at the Reich Press Chamber, but she was still nervous with him away. They’d never been parted for more than a night or two before, and as much as she’d once moaned about the restrictions he placed on her, she didn’t feel safe with him gone. And her darling Maxi, barely returned from war and being sent off again. She’d tried to break things off with him, but as she’d started to say the words she’d known she couldn’t give him up. And when he’d told her how terrified he was that he might not come home, how desperate he was for her to write to him and give him something to smile about and look forward to, she’d found herself unable to turn him down. Every day since she’d made certain to intercept the mail for fear that her father might discover one of his letters; letters that had only made her fall more and more in love with him.

‘Are you certain you don’t want to stay here with us until your father returns?’ Gisele asked.

‘I’ll be fine, truly I will. I’m just not used to so much time alone.’

‘I’m sure your father will be home soon. They’ll want him back in Berlin as soon as possible,’ Gisele said. ‘I’m the same with Hans; I miss him terribly when he’s gone.’

They sat in silence for a moment, as Frieda climbed down from Amira’s lap and went to play with her toys that were set up on a mat in the corner. Neither of them needed to say why it was different for Gisele, having her husband away. Gisele’s husband was highly ranked within the SS, which meant she was able to maintain the appearance of a perfect German wife bearing babies for the Reich, whereas Amira’s life could hang in the balance if her father didn’t return. With both of the men in her life gone, her safety would be anything but guaranteed. If Hans didn’t come home, it would be devastating for Gisele, but she would still be revered for her contribution to the Reich, not persecuted. Hans had rapidly risen through the ranks of the party since their engagement, and Amira had become more and more nervous around him with every promotion. It was often on the tip of her tongue to ask Gisele about her husband’s beliefs, but she’d never had the courage to and she wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t want to test Gisele’s loyalty, or if she just truly didn’t want to know the truth. For now, it was still the great unspoken between them.

‘How has everything been for you?’ Gisele suddenly asked, her voice low. ‘You haven’t had any concerns about...’ She glanced over at her daughter, as if conscious that she might be listening, even though she was only young. ‘Being discovered?’

Amira shook her head, even as a wave of panic rose in her chest at just the mention of her secret. There wasn’t an hour that went past where she wasn’t fearful for what might come – and the more the situation worsened around her, the more worried she became. ‘For now, everything has been fine.’ For now .

‘Your father is still confident that your papers are watertight?’

She nodded. ‘As confident as anyone could be about falsified documents.’

They both stared at one another, not having to say any more, because they both knew how everything could change, how quickly her life could end. What was happening on the streets of Berlin, the things she was hearing, the violence that happened in the neighbourhoods around hers every day, it was terrifying . She’d been witness to round-ups, knew that entire carriages and cattle cars were being filled with Jewish people, her people , and sent to God only knew where, and every day she wondered if it would be her next, whether something would happen or someone would resurface from her past and uncover that she wasn’t who she was claiming to be.

‘If I’m ever discovered...’ Amira whispered, not even wanting to say the words. ‘If anyone starts to ask questions and look into my heritage, or if I think for a moment that someone from my past has shared my secret...’

‘They won’t,’ Gisele said, as defiant as ever. Motherhood certainly hadn’t stopped her from being forthright, or from believing that her confidence could save them both. ‘Your father’s work is impeccable, it’s why he’s so valued by the party. No one would dare question someone as high-ranking as him.’

‘But I’m worried that every time I turn Maxi down and ask him to wait until after the war, that he might become suspicious. Sometimes I wonder if it’s more dangerous saying no.’

Gisele shook her head. ‘I think I agree with your father on this one. Having your papers scrutinised for a marriage document is too risky, and besides, there is nothing wrong with asking him to wait.’ She smiled. ‘There is nothing about you or your family that could possibly raise suspicions, so long as your father maintains his role within the party. From what I hear from Hans, he’s indispensable.’

Amira wasn’t so confident. She’d seen the way her father rubbed at his temples each morning as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, not knowing that she was watching; the way he sat until late into the night at their kitchen table, staring into his glass of whisky as if the very weight of the world rested upon his shoulders. She wasn’t naive enough to think she could stay hidden forever; that somehow, someone wouldn’t discover who she was eventually. He’d been careful and his work was impeccable, but the party was ruthless when it came to cross-checking documents and their validity when they wanted to be, and it would only take one person to become suspicious for any reason and decide to go looking. It was the reason he’d forbidden her from marrying, because he knew the scrutiny that went into studying the documents. There would be someone fastidiously checking her family tree and her identity papers if she applied for a marriage licence, and it was a risk that he didn’t want her to take. She might have been prepared to flaunt his rules when she was younger, but her fear had grown deeper over the years until it mirrored her father’s.

‘Gisele, you would never tell Hans, would you?’ Amira asked, as her fears bubbled up inside of her. ‘I know we haven’t spoken of it, about what would happen if he found out, but I’m so scared sometimes I can barely breathe.’

‘No! Of course not,’ Gisele whispered, clasping her hand tightly, just as she had when they’d been girls and Amira had been afraid of the world. ‘You must know by now that I would never betray your secret.’

‘Not even to your husband?’

Gisele shook her head. ‘Not even to my husband. I will never break your trust, Amira. Never, not even for him.’

Boots echoed down the hallway then and both women fell silent as Hans walked into the room, nodding to Amira before going to stand behind his wife.

‘Amira,’ he said. ‘I’m looking forward to our dinner tonight with you and Maxi.’

‘Hello Hans,’ she replied, trying to unsee his SS uniform, conflicted in her thoughts as she reminded herself of the husband he’d always been to her friend, despite the uniform he wore. It was a uniform that made her want to turn and run these days, to scream in protest as she witnessed the violence on the streets, as she saw women dragged by their hair and men beaten with batons. But she was trying her very best to tell herself that not every man wearing it was a monster; or at least that was what she wanted to believe. Not accepting Hans wasn’t an option if she wanted to remain friends with Gisele, even though Amira still found it hard to come to terms with his job or comprehend that the easy-going young man she’d met at the cinema four years ago, and had gone to concerts with to watch Gisele perform, was now a high-ranking party member. But she also knew that the closer she was to a man like Hans, the less anyone would ever suspect her, or so she hoped.

‘Amira, you are well?’ he asked.

‘I am, thank you for asking.’

‘And your father? I trust he’s being kept very busy with his work?’

‘He is very well too, thank you, although I’m looking forward to his return.’ Only he isn’t well, Hans. He is struggling with the violence he’s witnessed against people who are no different than his daughter. He is being eaten alive in the knowledge that his wife would likely have been murdered by now if she’d still been alive, forced to feel grateful that she didn’t have to see what her beloved country has become. That she didn’t have to fret for the life her daughter is being forced to live; that she didn’t end up in the one of the camps he is being forced to work inside of.

But instead of saying all that, she smiled pleasantly back at Hans, who by all accounts seemed very happy to be chatting with his wife and his wife’s best friend. And so long as she ignored the iron grip around her throat whenever she imagined what it would be like if he ever discovered her secret and realised she’d deceived him, all would be fine.

‘Well, I look forward to hosting you and Maxi tonight. It’s a lovely reprieve to be having a dinner party before Maxi ships out again.’

She smiled politely as he nodded to her and pressed a kiss to the top of Gisele’s head, before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. As usual, Amira found herself expelling a large breath the moment he’d gone, no longer on tenterhooks at having to speak to Hans. It was easier seeing Hans when Maxi was there, as the two men talked and the conversation wasn’t directed at her, and she doubted that even Gisele could understand the true depth of her fear at having to pretend she was someone she wasn’t. She had to pretend with Maxi too, but somehow she didn’t have to hold so much of herself back with him.

Even though Amira knew she was as safe as she could be, given her heritage, she still froze sometimes when she stood in line at the store, or walked the streets; the panic that rose inside of her was so great that it almost stole her breath away. And when she saw Hans, she thought of the round-ups that were happening all over Berlin, of the men like him who were in charge of such things. They were what she feared the most: the knock on the door in the middle of the night, the screams from other apartments, the entire families who vanished from a street. She was only ever one investigation away from vanishing alongside them, which meant that her father had to ensure that his work was always perfect, that he was relentless in his ascent within the party.

Tears shone from Gisele’s eyes as she looked up at Amira. ‘Maybe when Maxi leaves, you can lie low for a bit,’ she said. ‘I can see how jumpy you are today.’

‘Do you think Hans noticed?’ Amira stared back at her.

‘No, of course not. But I can sense the change in you,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you’ll feel better as soon as your father is home.’

Amira stood and went to sit with her, pressed to Gisele’s side, and dropped her head to her shoulder.

‘I’ve survived this long, haven’t I?’ Amira murmured, while the child in her friend’s arms stretched and stirred from slumber. ‘Perhaps I need to stop worrying.’

‘This is all going to be over soon anyway,’ Gisele said, as if to convince herself. ‘It has to be. You’ll be studying to be a teacher before you know it. We can’t give up on our dreams.’

Amira had long since given up hope that any of what was happening would ever be over, but she didn’t argue. For what did they have, if they didn’t have hope? Although, so much about their dreams had changed – Gisele had long ago given up music, with motherhood taking over from her previous dreams of being a famous flautist, and as much as Amira still wanted to be a teacher, her biggest dream now was simply to live a full life without hiding who she was.

‘Of course it will,’ she said, thinking of her mother and remembering how resolute she’d been about all of the nonsense being over within months. And yet here they were, all these years later, with Jews being rounded up on the streets and shuttled away in trains to the awful camps. She doubted it was a sight her mother could have ever imagined. ‘And besides, if I ever had to disclose my true identity, if my hand were somehow forced...’

Her father had tried to shield her from the truth, but Amira knew the reality of her situation – what would have happened to her if she’d not been so well hidden – and it made her stomach clench as she looked down at little Lukas.

‘There’s something I’ve been thinking about, if I was ever faced with the choice of being sent away or living my life,’ she said, knowing how much Gisele would hate what she was about to say. ‘If I had a voluntary sterilisation, they wouldn’t send me to one of the camps.’

‘No,’ Gisele said, shaking her head as she began to cry. ‘You will not. I won’t allow it. That cannot be something you ever do willingly, not when you’re so amazing with children. Have you seen how my own daughter lights up when you’re around?’

‘But if it saved my life . . .’

‘If you had the sterilisation, then they would know for sure what you are. You would be giving in, not to mention the repercussions for your father. And what if the rules change and suddenly they come looking for you, to send you to the camps anyway? What if you were killed despite doing everything they asked of you?’ Gisele’s eyes swam with tears. ‘Hans has told me that the ultimate victory for our Führer is to exterminate all trace of the Jews, so it’s as if they never existed, so we must do everything we can to keep who you are hidden. You must never admit those papers were forged, no matter what you’re threatened with.’

They both sat in a silence that was deafening, knowing that one day, the choice might be taken from Amira. And it was made even harder by the sight of the beautiful, sleeping child in Gisele’s arms.

‘Your father will keep you safe,’ Gisele said. ‘Trust him, Amira. Just please, trust in him. It will never come to that.’

It’s not him that I don’t trust; it’s everyone else.

Later that evening, with the children to bed and the four of them sitting around the table, it was easy to pretend that life was as it should be. Amira knew they were only safe because they were protected within the four walls of Gisele’s home, but she was prepared to forget in order to enjoy the night. For it was evenings like these that gave her something to smile about, another memory that she could stitch into the patchwork of happiness in her mind, to draw on when she needed it. In truth, she should have felt protected wherever she was, and there was no reason for anyone to suspect anything, but somehow she still went through life half expecting to have to run at any moment. She worried that she would become too relaxed around Maxi and let something slip, forgetting in the moment that she had to lie to him just as she had to lie to everyone else. But at least with Maxi she could talk about her desire to teach and have children of her own. With him, she at least felt free to dream.

Maxi smiled at her, slipping his arm around her waist at the dinner table. They were seated side by side, and she dropped her head to his shoulder, barely able to imagine that he was leaving, and certainly not accepting that she might not see him again. He’d come to mean everything to her, and despite his being a Wehrmacht soldier and not knowing the truth about her, she loved him. What had started out as the most pleasant distraction had turned into something much deeper, and she knew that they could be happy together if the war ended. He as a journalist and she a teacher, perhaps even moving closer to his family, who lived just outside of Potsdam. He talked about his mother and sister so fondly, and she couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like becoming part of his family and visiting them on holidays, having two women in her life who might one day feel like family to her.

Part of her wondered if she’d ever tell him the truth, her fear of his reaction overwhelming at times, but given his ongoing aversion to propaganda, she was inclined to believe that he was much more liberal than most of his peers.

‘Oh, you two,’ Gisele said with a sigh, reaching for her husband’s hand. ‘Our two lovebirds.’

Hans looked most offended and made a show of kissing his wife, which made Gisele swat at him with her hand, in turn making Amira and Maxi laugh. Maxi was endlessly affectionate, compared to Hans who was far more reserved.

‘My wife complains I don’t give her enough affection, and then she pushes me away like I’m a monster the moment I try!’

They all laughed, and Amira snuggled closer to Maxi, loving the feel of his mouth against her hair, the way he kissed her when she turned her face to him. There was nowhere else they could be like this with each other, but they’d all been friends for a long time, and besides, they only had hours left to spend together before he left. Her father would be livid if he knew of their relationship, but as much as she hated keeping a secret from him, she hadn’t any other choice.

‘I can see us when we’re old and grey, you know,’ Gisele said, leaning into her husband as he put his arms around her, all jokes aside. ‘Perhaps we could retire somewhere with a beach, and the children can all come to visit and swim in the ocean.’

‘The beach sounds perfect to me,’ Maxi said. ‘Trousers rolled up at the ankles, water splashing our feet. It sounds idyllic.’

‘Don’t forget the sunshine,’ Hans said. ‘We would be bathed in it all year around. No more fur coats and freezing cold winters.’

Amira’s eyes met Gisele’s across the table, and although she was smiling, she could see the conflict in her gaze. Gisele might be able to pretend, but they both knew. She knew that there was little chance they’d all make it, and Amira could see her regret. The world Gisele’s husband was fighting for, the future he was fighting for, didn’t include people like her – and even if it did, what were the chances of both him and Maxi even making it until the end? The odds most definitely weren’t in their favour.

‘It sounds like a beautiful dream,’ Amira finally said, when Hans and Maxi stopped laughing and talking, as if realising she hadn’t joined in. ‘I think we all need something to look forward to after the war, so thank you. I shall hold that thought close to my heart while Maxi is away.’

Maxi held her a little closer, and she willingly tucked herself under his arm. But the table was quiet now, and she wished that she had just gone along with the banter, wondered if her words had been tinged with a sadness that she hadn’t intended.

‘We are going to grow old together,’ Gisele said, her eyes shining with tears as she looked at them from across the table. ‘I will not stand for anything less. It’s the four of us, against the world.’

Maxi reached for his glass of wine, and Amira did the same, until all four of them were holding their glasses high.

‘To old age,’ Hans said, his gaze catching Amira’s.

‘To old age,’ Amira repeated, at the same time as Maxi.

They all sipped their wine, before Hans lifted his glass and spoke again.

‘And to Maxi. You’ve only just come home and here we are already farewelling you again.’

Amira took another sip of wine, nodding in agreement, before turning to Maxi and touching her palm gently to his cheek. She stared up at him, committing every inch of his face to memory as he smiled back down at her.

‘I love you,’ she murmured.

Maxi leaned in and pressed a slow, warm kiss to her lips. ‘I love you, too.’

Come home , she silently pleaded. Please, Maxi, make sure you come home to me. I don’t want to live without you.

But if he came home, if they all survived, she would be faced with either telling him the truth or pretending who she really was for the rest of her life; and she didn’t know which option she hated more.

An hour later, after Amira and Gisele had said their goodbyes and Amira had promised to visit her again the following day, they were finally making their way home. Maxi had told her he’d walk with her and see her in, to make certain she was safe in the dark, but they both knew that he wasn’t going to leave, not when he only had hours left in Berlin. With her father away, he had every intention of staying with her; after all, it might well be their last night together in a very, very long time and they’d already spent every night of his leave together so far.

They’d had dinner early to ensure they would be home well before dark – the blackouts made it impossible to navigate the city at night unless the moon was particularly bright. But when they rounded the corner, her arm wrapped around Maxi’s middle as he rubbed her arm to keep her warm, she wished it was dark.

Her heart stuttered in her chest, and her mouth went dry.

There were two Gestapo men outside her apartment block. She could hear the thud of their thick-soled boots, saw the long black trench coats, the distinctive red, black and white swastika on their arms. If ever there were a more terrifying sight, she couldn’t think of one.

‘Maxi,’ she whispered, stopping in her tracks.

He kept hold of her, his arm around her waist as he looked down at her.

‘What’s—’

‘Maxi, we need to turn around,’ she said.

She tried to stop again, panic rising inside of her, but he kept walking.

They’ve come for me. Maxi, don’t you see that they’ve come for me?

‘You’re worried about the Gestapo men?’ he asked. ‘I’m fairly certain they’re not here to see you. Come on, it’s cold out here.’

He kept pushing her to propel her forward, her toes catching on the pavement as he forced her to move.

‘Amira, what are you doing? Come on.’

‘I can’t.’ Her voice was barely a whisper, torn between telling him the truth in that moment so he’d understand, or simply running. ‘Maxi, I can’t.’

‘I’m not sure what you’re afraid of, but they’re in uniform,’ he said. ‘There’s a reason they’re not in plain clothes. If you’re afraid of seeing them rounding up Jews...’

Her heart was pounding now, her hands sweaty as she fought not to ball them into fists, a line of moisture even breaking out across her top lip. There was only one reason the Gestapo came into neighbourhoods like theirs, and it was to hunt out the last of the remaining Jews.

‘Is that why you’re so afraid?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t like seeing them.’

Maxi began to walk more stiffly beside her, letting go of her only as they approached the two men, who were now staring at her. She tried to steady herself, tried to hold her head high and keep her shoulders straight, as if it weren’t a terrible surprise to find them waiting. Her breath rasped in and out and she tried to level it.

‘Heil Hitler!’ Maxi said, saluting the two men and waiting for them to do the same.

‘Heil Hitler,’ Amira murmured, finding the words almost impossible to say but realising that the two men were barely even glancing at her now, their attention directed at Maxi. She hoped they weren’t about to ask for their papers, for it would be the first time hers had been properly scrutinised. A curl of sweat left her upper lip and fell to her mouth, her tongue darting out to catch the salty moisture.

‘Oberstleutnant Richter,’ Maxi said, introducing himself and nodding to the two men, who both appeared to be glancing at the lapel of his grey field jacket, which bore his insignia. ‘Can I help you? Is there someone you’re looking for in this apartment block?’

‘We’re looking for the family of SS Standartenführer Sch?fer.’

Amira gasped, and Maxi gave her a quick glance, as did the Gestapo men.

‘ Güntha Sch?fer?’ she asked, her eyes widening as one of the men nodded. ‘You’re looking for the family of Güntha Sch?fer?’

‘He is—’ the man started.

‘My father. Güntha is my father,’ Amira said, as her heart began to race all over again.

‘Then please accept our condolences,’ the same man said. ‘We regret to inform you that SS Standartenführer Sch?fer was killed serving the Reich. He has made the ultimate sacrifice for our mighty Führer.’

‘Killed?’ Amira gasped. ‘But he was only sent to study documents at Sachsenhausen. How could be possibly have been killed? How...’

Maxi took hold of her arm and shook his head to silence her, to remind her of the men she was questioning.

‘I apologise. Women can be very emotional receiving such news, as I’m sure you well know, but I would like to thank you on behalf of the family for making a house call to inform them.’ Maxi glanced at Amira, as if to tell her that he knew what he was doing. ‘May I enquire how such a respected party member was killed?’

‘The building he was staying in was bombed, and he was listed among the deceased.’

‘Bombed?’ she whispered. It can’t be. He was supposed to be coming home, he was only supposed to be gone until the end of the month.

‘Thank you for the information,’ Maxi said, his face impossible to read, whereas Amira was convinced hers was twisted in pain. ‘Will that be all?’

They continued to exchange some pleasantries with Maxi on the street, as she stood, her legs barely holding her up, threatening to collapse beneath her, her scream lodged in her throat as she listened to these men, to her man, making small talk as if they hadn’t just delivered the worst possible news to a person. Pain robbed her of her ability to move, to so much as turn or open her mouth.

‘Heil Hitler!’ they said to one another, and when she realised they’d all turned to her, she let out a weak ‘Heil Hitler’ herself, as tears began to streak down her cheeks.

Maxi held her weight and helped her through the door, supporting her up the stairs and into the apartment as she gasped on tears. Emotion gurgled in her throat while she tried to breathe past the hurt, past the fiercest of pains in her heart.

And when he closed and locked the door behind him, she sank straight to the floor before they had even reached the sofa, her legs buckling when she saw her father’s half-empty bottle of whisky, his strong cologne still lingering in the room.

‘Maxi—’

‘Amira, I’m so sorry,’ he murmured. ‘Tell me what to do. Should I take you back to Gisele?’

She shook her head, her body numb, relieved that she was still alive but devastated to have lost her darling father. All she wanted to do was cling to Maxi for as long as she could.

‘He can’t be gone,’ she cried. ‘He can’t. Maxi, he can’t.’

Maxi wrapped her in his arms, his lips to her hair, his hands flat to her back. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I’m so sorry, Amira.’

‘He was supposed to be home before the end of the month. He wasn’t supposed to be in danger.’

Her breath was hiccupping out of her now, making it almost impossible to fill her lungs. But Maxi gently touched her chin and lifted her face, his eyes swimming with tears of his own.

She leaned into him, her face nestled into his neck, breathing in the scent of him, knowing that come morning, she’d have lost both him and her father. Even if Maxi made it back from the war, for the foreseeable future she’d be all alone, living in a city that hated her, with no one to hide behind.

They sat there on the floor, entwined in each other’s arms, the only sound the clock ticking on the wall, as the minutes turned into hours, and night slowly became morning. Breathing, holding each other, absorbing the feeling of cradling the other in the knowledge that it would soon be over and they might never, ever be together again. He had to leave, and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

‘What will I do? Without my father?’ she eventually whispered. ‘I don’t even know if I’ll be able to stay in this apartment.’

‘We will marry, the moment I return home,’ he said, holding her tightly. ‘We should have eloped when we had the chance, or I should have defied your request and demanded to meet him while he was still alive.’

She nodded against him. If only it were all so simple – that she was marrying for love without fear of what might happen. If only she didn’t have to imagine her darling Maxi finding out the truth and turning her in, or being discovered when her papers were examined.

‘You will marry me when I return, won’t you?’ he asked. ‘Once all this is over?’

‘Of course I will,’ she replied. ‘Nothing would make me happier than to be your wife.’ Four years they’d known each other, and she’d have married him in months if the choice had been hers. Without her father, risking marriage might be her only option.

‘Then we will find a way to marry as soon as we can,’ he eventually whispered back. ‘I love you, Amira, with all my heart. I promise that I’ll look after you.’

But when he reached out to touch her cheek, it was slick with tears. Because no matter what he said, no matter how he felt, neither of them had any idea whether he’d be home in weeks, months, or even years.

The truth is that there is no one left to keep me safe in Berlin. Nothing Maxi could say could soothe her because, come daybreak, she’d be alone.