The Pianist’s Wife

Chapter Eleven

A few weeks later, Amira let Gisele take her hand as she sat in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. It was bittersweet, looking at herself dressed in the stunning off-white dress that she’d seen Gisele wear at her wedding to Hans only a handful of years earlier. They’d both spent hours altering it so that it fitted her slightly smaller figure, and now, much to Amira’s relief, it appeared to have been made for her. Once, Gisele had been smaller than her, but with all the worry over the past months, Amira seemed to have shrunk in size. She’d even used the last of her mother’s perfume, the bottle she’d saved before they’d left for Berlin, to try to make the day special. But despite all that, she was finding it hard to think about the groom waiting for her at the altar. Fred had proven to be polite enough, tolerating the situation just as she was; but he wasn’t the man she was in love with and he never would be. He couldn’t ever be.

‘You look beautiful,’ Gisele said, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

She blinked back at herself, wishing she could enjoy the moment. ‘I keep thinking of Maxi,’ Amira confessed. ‘What will he think if he returns and finds out that I’ve—’

‘No,’ Gisele said. ‘You are not asking yourself those questions, not today. The only thing Maxi would want is for you to stay alive, do you hear me? If he does come home, he will understand, you know he will.’

Amira took a big breath. ‘But he won’t, because he doesn’t know the truth. I don’t even know if he would accept me if—’

Gisele hugged her. ‘Don’t think that way. Maxi loves you, and besides, there’s no reason he would ever find out. As far as Hans is concerned, you needed a husband to support you financially now that your father’s gone and you’ve been left alone. When I broke the news to him, he was most understanding, and we’ll tell Maxi the same thing.’

If he ever comes home. The unspoken words hung in the air between them.

‘Besides, if Maxi does come back? If he makes it home alive and the war ends? Then you can divorce Fred, it’s as simple as that,’ Gisele said, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. ‘It’s easier now, especially for a couple with no children, to seek a divorce to marry someone else.’

Amira nodded, but in her heart she no longer believed that Maxi was coming back to her. She also no longer believed that the Allies were going to turn the war around and free them from the madman who seemed intent on not only eradicating Jews and anyone else he took a dislike to, but taking over the world. The glimmer that Amira had once held in her heart was gone, replaced by a feeling of deep loneliness inside of her. The only thing giving her strength was the knowledge that Fred understood her pain, more so than anyone else she knew. At least they had that in common, even if he hadn’t exactly been warm to her. He was courteous, she’d give him that, but she wasn’t certain they were doing the best job of convincing anyone that they were in love. It was almost as if he resented having to get married more than she did.

‘You’re quite lucky, you know,’ Gisele said, crossing the room and coming back with a small posy of flowers. ‘I had to spend two months at the Reich Bride School before I married Hans, whereas you can just rely on me passing all my knowledge of being the perfect wife on to you. Did I ever tell you that I had to master the art of making the perfect after-work cocktail and practise how to polish a dagger? I mean, how many husbands would arrive home expecting their wife to clean their knife while they sipped a fancy drink?’

Amira couldn’t help but laugh. Trust Gisele to stop her from feeling so dreary.

‘My darling mother thought it was the most incredible privilege. How could I possibly become Hans’ wife without being taught how to do so?’ Gisele said, her sarcasm not lost on Amira. ‘But enough about me. How are you feeling? I know this isn’t the wedding you dreamed of, but it’s not all bad.’

I feel like I’m betraying the man I love. ‘Grateful,’ Amira said, instead. Because she was grateful; it came in waves, where one minute she was awash with grief over what she’d agreed to, and the next she was so deeply relieved to be safe, she would have agreed to anything. Because of Fred, she would no longer have to live in fear. She could live safe in the knowledge that no one would ever suspect her, that a woman married to a pure German couldn’t possibly be a Jew – she was going to be able to live and move about freely beneath the noses of the Nazis with confidence again, and for that, she couldn’t be anything other than grateful. ‘I won’t have to worry about being alone and my money running out or where I’m going to live, because I’ll have Fred to take care of me. As wrong as it feels, it’s also a huge relief. A decision I had to make, I suppose.’

Gisele looked away, and Amira was reminded of just how different their lives were. She might have always been her closest friend, but unlike her, Gisele had never had to worry about anything. She’d been raised in a German household and married a suitable man her parents approved of – her life had been a fairy tale compared to Amira’s. But Gisele understood that, when most others in her position didn’t, which was why they’d been able to stay such close friends despite it all. Gisele was prepared to take risks to help others.

‘You haven’t spoken of your mother again,’ Amira said. ‘Does she arrive next week?’

‘She’s been delayed, but she’ll be here before the end of the month. But you have nothing to fear, truly you don’t.’

‘If she were to see me—’

Gisele held out her hand and helped Amira to her feet. ‘She won’t, because you’ll steer clear of her, and anyway she’s unlikely to recognise you in a chance encounter, so even if she did happen to see you on the street, she would never recognise you. Especially not as Mrs Frederick Schulz. She only sees what she wants to see, and in you, she’d see the wife of an acclaimed pianist.’

They only see what they want to see . They were the words Fred had whispered to her only the day before. The moment they wore their wedding rings, no one would see them as anything more than a loving young couple, no different to any other. Their truth would be hidden from the world.

‘Come on, it’s time,’ Gisele said. ‘We don’t want to keep them waiting. But before we do, let’s practise again, just so it rolls off your tongue. How did you meet Fred?’

‘We met at the park,’ she said, forcing a smile. ‘I walked there often, as it’s somewhere I feel close to my father, and it was as if fate conspired for us to meet. I slipped and an arm shot out to catch me, and when I turned around I was looking into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen.’

Gisele nodded. ‘Good. And just remember, it’s fine if you blush or stammer. It will just make the story and your fast nuptials all the more believable.’

Amira nodded and looked at herself one last time, before squaring her shoulders and nodding. A little, fantastical part of her brain imagined Maxi arriving at the last minute, sweeping her into his arms and begging that she marry him instead. But this wasn’t a fairy tale, far from it, and no matter how much Maxi might love her, there was no chance that he was coming home any time soon, if at all. Besides, they had their paperwork, everything had been approved, no one had questioned the carefully doctored lineage that Fred had presented on her behalf. She couldn’t do anything that would mean further scrutiny, even if Maxi were there.

They walked out into the garden to find Hans positioned with the children, waiting for them, and Fred standing at an altar draped in a swastika flag and adorned with leaves. There were also a few people whom she’d never seen before but knew to be friends of Fred’s, smiling at her as she walked towards him.

Hans nodded to her and stepped out, making a crook with his arm for her to slide her hand through as Gisele took the children. He’d agreed to walk her down the aisle, despite his friendship with Maxi and her fast courtship with Fred, and she silently stepped alongside him until they reached Fred. She’d expected Hans to resent her decision, but after taking a few days to consider the situation, he’d told Gisele that he understood Amira’s precarious circumstances with not having a man in her life to provide for her. Not to mention she was certain that he liked the fact that Fred’s skills as a musician were so highly respected by other party members.

Nerves made her skin prickle and her stomach flutter, but Fred was smiling up ahead and held her gaze. He only looked away to return the salute Hans gave him, along with the obligatory salute to their Führer.

‘Don’t forget to smile,’ Fred murmured, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

She nodded and did as he asked, wishing that perhaps he could have mustered something kind about her appearance at the very least.

But her heart raced again as they began the ceremony, the lie of what she was confirming almost catching on her tongue. Their marriage documents were set out on the altar, she could see the papers from where they stood, but she was still asked the one question that sent fear racing down her spine.

‘Do you, Amira Sch?fer, confirm that you are of pure Aryan descent, and that you are not infected with inheritable diseases that would exclude you from marriage?’

‘I do,’ she said, clearing her throat as the officiant marrying them stared intently at her, before asking Fred the same question. This was the part her father had been so afraid of, and her hands shook in Fred’s as she did her very best to keep her smile fixed on her face.

‘Now, we come to the ceremonial act of marriage,’ the officiant said. ‘In the presence of the witnesses here today, I ask you, are you, Mr Frederick Schulz, willing to take Miss Amira Sch?fer as your wife, and to worship our mighty Führer above all else?’

‘I am,’ Fred said, his eyes telling her that she could trust him as he took the plain gold wedding band held by the officiant and placed it on her finger, sliding it carefully into place. His voice loud and confident, as if he didn’t have a doubt in the world.

‘And you, Miss Amira Sch?fer, are you willing to take Mr Frederick Schulz as your husband, and to worship our mighty Führer?’

‘I am,’ she said, swallowing away a lump in her throat.

Amira took Fred’s ring and pushed it on to his finger, cursing her shaking hands. At least she could put it down to wedding day nerves, and not the fact that she was waiting at any moment for her deceit to be discovered. She’d had nightmares about the Gestapo interrupting her vows and arresting her in front of everyone.

‘Well, since both newly-weds have stated their intentions, I declare this marriage as legal before the law. Congratulations, and heil Hitler!’

Fred stepped towards her then, as those gathered clapped and echoed the last words. He placed one hand on her shoulder and leaned in, before pressing a gentle, pleasant-enough kiss to her lips.

‘We will survive this, Amira,’ he murmured into her ear, disguised as a kiss to the cheek. ‘Together, we will survive.’

‘We will,’ she whispered back, before taking his hand and smiling to everyone as if she were the happiest bride in the world.

Gisele was first up to congratulate them, followed by little Frieda who wore a pout, her arms crossed angrily over her chest. When Amira bent to hug her, she didn’t receive one in return.

‘Darling, what’s wrong?’

‘I thought you loved Maxi,’ she said. ‘I thought you were going to marry Maxi .’

Amira bit down on her lip to stop her tears, wrapping Frieda in her arms once more until the little girl finally hugged her in return. ‘I did love Maxi, very much. But no one has heard from Maxi in a very long time.’ Amira took a breath, as tears ran from her cheeks down into Frieda’s blonde hair. ‘Our Führer wants women to marry and have families, and I am trying to be a good German woman.’

She was surprised how easily the lies fell from her tongue, but even more surprising was the way Frieda planted her hands on her hips, a defiance Amira had only seen in one other girl before. A girl who’d given a boy a bloody nose for teasing her best friend.

‘Well, then I hate him.’

‘Who do you hate, Frieda?’ Hans asked, turning to his daughter. The three men were all standing together – Hans, Fred, and the SS man who’d married them.

Amira was still crouched down beside the little girl and she murmured, ‘Do not repeat what you said. Do not say his name.’ It was as if she could hear her own heartbeat thundering in her ears as she waited. Apologise to your father. Please apologise for your behaviour.

‘Nobody,’ Frieda said, glancing at Amira before smiling sweetly up at her father. ‘I’m sorry, Papa.’

The men all turned away, immediately uninterested in a child, but Amira caught the frown on Hans’ face.

‘We never say out loud that we hate the Führer. We never disobey him or say such things when others could hear. Do you understand?’ Amira cautioned in a sharp whisper.

Frieda stared blankly at her.

‘Frieda, tell me that you understand,’ Amira said. ‘Things happen to people who don’t obey the rules, very bad things. And not just to you, but to your parents and your brothers as well.’ She felt terrible scaring her and seeing her eyes widen in fear, but she needed her to understand the consequences, even if she was only a little girl.

‘Did something bad happen to Maxi?’ Frieda whispered. ‘Did Maxi say bad things?’

Amira touched the little girl’s cheek, gently rubbing her thumb across her skin. ‘No, sweet girl. I very much hope that he’s alright, but Maxi is a soldier, and sometimes, well, sometimes soldiers don’t come home.’

‘Come along, darling,’ said Fred, as if he hadn’t been standing near her the entire time. He held out his hand and she clasped it, rising and leaning into him when he put his arm around her waist. ‘We have a wedding breakfast to attend.’

Amira looked for Frieda but saw that she’d run to her mother and was tucked against her leg now, and as much as she loved Gisele, she hoped her daughter was better equipped at holding her tongue and keeping her fists firmly at her sides than her mother had been.

‘Come on then, my love,’ she said, smiling up at Fred. ‘Let’s go to breakfast.’

But even as she said the words, she wondered if she was fooling anyone.

Two hours later, after a long breakfast to celebrate their nuptials and telling the lie of how they had met so many times that her head was spinning, Fred and Amira walked hand in hand to the door of his apartment, careful to keep up their ruse while they were in public. It was the first time she’d ever been there, and although she had to return to Gisele’s house for a small bag, Fred had arranged for everything else to be brought around already for her.

‘Welcome home,’ he said, swinging the door open and gesturing with his hand that she should step inside.

Amira stepped over the threshold, glancing around at the thick velvet drapes and cream sofas covered in striped cushions, and a vase full of fresh flowers on the table. It was a perfectly nice apartment, but she couldn’t imagine that it would ever feel like home. What she was surprised by was the little dog sitting in the centre of one of the sofas, his brown eyes wide as he wagged his tail.

‘You have a dog?’ she asked, turning to look at Fred before hurrying over to the sofa. ‘How did I not know this?’

‘Amira, meet Otto. Otto, meet Amira,’ he said. ‘It turns out you both have something in common.’

Amira laughed as the dog jumped on to her lap and licked at her face. ‘Well, now I’m curious. What could we possibly have in common, Otto?’

‘Well, it just so happens that Otto here is Jewish, too,’ Fred said, taking off his shoes and loosening his tie. ‘I like nothing more than taking him for a walk and letting him pee on a lamppost in front of soldiers and party members. It feels like my little way of being rebellious.’

Amira scooped the dog up into her arms, running her fingers through his sandy-coloured coat, peppered by little scruffs of black around his face. ‘He lost his family?’

It was only then she noticed that Fred had tears in his eyes, despite his earlier joviality. ‘He did. They’d been hiding him but were worried someone would report them for having a pet. It turns out they were gone within two days of me taking him.’

Amira held Otto even tighter in her arms. ‘You’re a good man, Fred. Saving this little life matters, in my opinion anyway.’

‘Thank you, Amira. In the times we live in, that means something.’

‘Well then,’ she said, clearing her throat and forcing a smile. ‘Show me around my new apartment. I had better get acquainted with my new residence.’

Fred indicated that she should walk ahead, pointing to a room that he said was his, followed by a larger room that was for her. She stepped in and surveyed the large bed and thick comforter folded at the end, then opened one of the doors to the wardrobe to find that some of her things were already hanging alongside his clothes.

‘You don’t have to give me the best room,’ she said.

‘I want you to have this room, and besides, we may need to sleep in the same bed at times if we have visitors, to ensure no one suspects, well—’

‘I understand.’ She gave him an uncertain smile. That was why he had their things in the same wardrobe – in case anyone were to inspect their apartment. ‘We will figure all this out, Fred. I’m certain we’ll settle into our own little routine.’

She kicked off her shoes and dropped her coat to the chair as she looked around.

‘Amira, I . . .’

She turned to see him staring at her coat.

‘Sorry, did I do something wrong?’ she asked. ‘You look perplexed.’

‘I just, well, that was my late mother’s chair. I prefer not to leave—’

‘Oh! Of course, I should have hung it up. I’m sorry.’

‘No, it’s me who’s sorry. This is your room now and you had no reason to think—’

‘It’s fine,’ she said, wishing her cheeks weren’t so hot as she gathered up her coat and clutched it to her chest.

‘On that note, I’m going to leave you to settle in and have a drink. It’s been quite a day.’

Fred closed the door and left her and Otto in the room. She looked around, knowing how grateful she should be but feeling so desperately lonely at the same time.

I’m going to survive this. We only have to stay married until after the war, and then this will all be over.

She only wished she didn’t feel so alone on her wedding night, and as she sat down on the bed and pulled her coat over herself, she had no doubt that she would spend another night crying herself to sleep, just as she had every night since her father had died.

The next morning, Amira woke to a sound that she’d only ever heard before at one of the recitals she’d snuck into when Gisele had been in music school. She lingered in bed, listening to what felt like a private performance of an extremely melancholic piece, and wondered if Fred played the piano every morning. By the time she rose she was in absolute awe of his talent, and wished she’d had the chance to see him perform. From what Gisele had told her, he’d been a favourite of many high-ranking Nazi officials for some time, at their beck and call to play for them whenever they clicked their fingers, and she could see why.

When he saw her, he stopped, his eyes meeting hers. They were bloodshot, and he lifted a cigarette that had been burning in a small glass dish on top of the piano. She liked turning in early, but she had a feeling that he’d been up until the early hours, and possibly hadn’t gone to bed at all.

‘Did I wake you?’

‘Yes, you most definitely woke me, but I’m not complaining. It was a very pleasant way to bring in a new day,’ she said brightly.

‘I usually practise early, but these days I wonder why I bother. I’m only allowed to play German composers like Beethoven, Bach and Wagner if I’m to keep the mighty Führer happy, and I know them all so well now that I could play them in my sleep. I yearn to play something different, anything other than what you just heard me rehearsing.’

‘You look tired. Did you not sleep well?’ She’d thought she heard the front door to the apartment click in the early hours, although she was certain she’d imagined it at the time.

‘I had a late night,’ he said, taking a final puff of his cigarette before putting it out. ‘I hope I didn’t disturb you when I got in.’

‘You went out? At night?’ she asked, horrified. ‘Where would you go at such an hour?’

‘To walk, sometimes to a bar where...’ His voice trailed off. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

Amira’s cheeks grew hot. ‘It most certainly does matter! We said our vows yesterday and you promised we were in this together,’ she said. ‘And yet you risked everything only hours later. Please tell me it wasn’t the bar raided by the Gestapo, where your Christoph was found?’

Fred’s stare was cold. ‘Wouldn’t you do anything to find out where your Maxi was? Wouldn’t you take risks to ask questions, if you might find out anything about his whereabouts?’

He had her there, because of course she would. ‘I need to know that you won’t do anything foolish,’ she said instead. ‘I need to know that I can trust you, and that you won’t disappear in the night on me, otherwise I was better off taking my chances on my own.’

He turned back to the piano and began to practise again, his face like thunder at being reprimanded. She’d looked after children at the orphanage who’d behaved better after a telling-off.

Amira tried not to show how upset she was, clearing her throat as he began to play ever louder, as if to dismiss her. But she was left wondering if she would ever be able to trust him, whether she’d been a fool to think their marriage could actually keep her safe.

‘Is there anything in the kitchen for breakfast, or do I need to go out and get something for us?’ she asked, loud enough to be heard over his piano.

‘There is yesterday’s bread and some marmalade,’ he said, pausing. ‘I have a small jar of real coffee still as well, and I find that if I add just a little to that awful chicory blend, it makes it more palatable.’

‘And what about little Otto?’ Amira asked, smiling at the small dog who’d just appeared at her side and managed to make her feel slightly brighter. She bent to scratch him beneath the chin as Fred began to play again. ‘I may just give the bread and marmalade to you instead of him,’ she said to the dog.

She walked away from Fred and called the dog to her, putting on water to boil and looking around the kitchen. Amira had taken over the household chores, including cooking, after her mother had passed, so she was very much at home in the kitchen, and she looked for everything she would need. It was strange though, imagining this to be hers now, especially when in her mind the apartment she’d shared with her father since they’d left her childhood house still felt like home. But she supposed Fred was bearable, if not a little prickly, and Otto was downright delightful, so she just needed to get on with things and stop feeling sorry for herself.

Just as she was stirring the coffee, following Fred’s instructions and adding a little real coffee to each cup, he came in, running a hand through his dishevelled hair and looking awkward.

‘Perhaps I could play a song for you to make up for my thoughtlessness.’

‘Thank you. That would be nice,’ Amira replied, feeling awkward as she pushed one of the cups towards him. But her heart did soften at the idea of him playing something for her.

They sat in silence for a moment, both sipping their coffee, before Fred spoke again.

‘I couldn’t sleep last night. I suppose, well, I suppose that I felt guilty about the wedding. As if I’d somehow given up on Christoph.’

Fred hadn’t need to finish his sentence for her to understand, and she felt herself soften all over again for him. ‘I understand. I don’t think I’ve slept properly since Maxi left, and certainly not after he was declared missing. It became impossible to sleep without fretting about his whereabouts, and yesterday was one of the hardest days of my life.’

‘I keep wondering where Christoph is,’ Fred said. ‘Whether he made it to a camp, whether he’s still alive or not, if he has what he needs. I just want answers.’

They both sat silently, heads bent and sipping more coffee.

‘Do you think you’ll ever see him again?’ Amira finally asked.

‘No,’ Fred said, when he finally looked up, his voice rough. ‘I don’t see how he’ll ever come home, because no one ever comes back from those places, do they? The stories I’ve heard, the rumours about what they do there...’

Amira left her coffee to fix their breakfast, feeling the need to do something, to keep her hands busy. She knew what he was speaking of, because she’d heard, too. All those people crammed into cattle cars and sent away; Fred was right, no one ever came home. She wished she hadn’t asked him.

‘Come on, let’s eat,’ she said, putting two thick slices of bread covered in marmalade on to a plate and passing it to him. She did the same for herself, but with much thinner slices, and they took their plates to the table and sat in the morning sun.

To an outsider, they would have looked like the perfect couple, newly-weds enjoying their first breakfast together, the new bride reaching out to hold her husband’s hand as he drank his coffee. But with his back turned, they wouldn’t have seen Fred’s tears streaming silently down his cheeks, or the pain reflected in his young wife’s eyes as she wondered how to comfort him.

‘I think it’s time for me to rehearse,’ Fred finally said, after they’d eaten, squeezing her hand before letting go. ‘When I play, I stop thinking, if that makes sense. It’s the only time my mind is quiet.’

‘I understand,’ Amira replied. ‘I shall see you again for our next meal.’

‘But thank you, for this,’ he said, gesturing to their breakfast dishes. ‘I always forget to eat when it’s just me.’

She smiled. ‘Well, there is something to be said for not being alone.’

‘I shall do my utmost not to break your trust again, Amira,’ he said. ‘I can assure you that your secret is very safe with me.’

They stood, as if neither of them knew quite what to say after that. Until Amira had a sudden idea, glancing down at the dog at her feet and feeling as if she needed to escape the house and give both of them some space from each other.

‘Shall I take Otto for a walk?’