The Pianist’s Wife

Chapter Twelve

‘Surprise!’

Amira opened her arms wide to hug Gisele when she opened the door, registering her friend’s surprise. But she didn’t have time to say anything before Frieda and Lukas came flying past their mother to see Otto.

‘Mira, you have a dog!’

‘I do,’ she said. ‘He’s a very special dog who belongs to Fred.’

Frieda smiled up at her as she stroked the dog’s back. ‘So that means you’re his mama now!’

Amira grinned. ‘Well, I suppose it does.’ Secretly she was just pleased that Frieda had seemingly forgiven her for marrying a man other than Maxi the day before, and she felt brighter for just seeing them.

‘Come in,’ Gisele said, ushering her in and waving at the children to follow, but Amira noticed how pale she was, and her heavy eyes made her look as if she hadn’t slept a wink.

The children promptly took the dog’s lead from Amira’s hand and ran away with Otto, leaving the two women alone.

‘How was your first night, all things considered?’ Gisele said. ‘My greatest hope is that you and Fred will become great friends in time. Or if not friends, then at least companions.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t say we’re friends yet, or that he seems particularly happy to have me in the house, but we’ll be fine.’ We have to be fine, what other choice do I have? She was going to mention his going out the night before, but decided not to. He was her husband now, and although it was a faux marriage, she supposed that meant there were certain things that had to stay between just the two of them.

Gisele’s bottom lip began to quiver then, and Amira reached for her and sat on the sofa beside her. ‘Gisele, what’s wrong? Surely it’s not because I said we weren’t friends yet. He’s a perfectly fine man and—’

‘No,’ Gisele said, ‘it’s not that.’

Amira watched her, not used to seeing her usually strong friend behave in such a way. ‘Is it Hans?’

When Gisele finally nodded, tears streaking down her cheeks, Amira knew that something was terribly wrong.

‘Please, tell me what—’

‘Amira, I think you married Fred just in time,’ Gisele said. ‘They’re sending more Jews than ever before to those dreadful camps. They’re searching every nook and cranny to try to flush them out.’

Amira listened as Gisele wrapped her arms tightly around herself, as if she were in pain.

‘Hans has been sent to Poland,’ she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. ‘He told me that they took all the Jews from the Warsaw Ghetto, that there were thousands of them arrested and...’

‘Killed?’ Amira whispered, when Gisele didn’t finish her sentence.

Gisele’s head moved slightly, her eyes shutting as she nodded. ‘I know you must hate him for what he’s doing, but if he didn’t, if he tried to refuse his orders...’

‘Would he refuse though, if he could?’ Amira asked. She’d held her tongue over Hans ever since Gisele had married him, but today she found she couldn’t. ‘Has he ever given you any indication that he doesn’t agree with these policies?’

Gisele wrapped her arms even more tightly around herself and looked to the ground.

‘I know he’s your husband, and that he’s only ever shown me great kindness, but I always wonder what he’d do, if he found out,’ Amira said, her voice low. ‘Whether he’d protect me or...’ She didn’t need to finish her sentence for Gisele to understand what she was trying to say.

Frieda and Lukas came skipping back into the room with Otto bounding beside them then, and Gisele quickly wiped at her eyes as Amira spoke brightly to the children to distract them. ‘Come on, let’s take Otto outside. Perhaps we can find a stick for him to chase?’

She placed a hand on Gisele’s shoulder as she passed, holding it there until she felt her friend’s breath settle, before following the children. But inside her emotions raged. The truth was that she hated Hans for what he was part of, even though she knew how contradictory she was being. Maxi had been fighting for the same Germany that Hans was, neither of them knew who she truly was and she didn’t know their true beliefs, but still she wanted to blame Hans for the things he was doing, for he was ranked much more highly than a soldier on the ground. To women, children, anyone who had so much as a drop of Jewish blood in their veins. And even if he didn’t agree with what was being asked of him, would he ever refuse to follow through with his orders? If more men were braver, if more men refused to follow such gruesome orders... She swallowed down her anger, refusing to be anything other than composed with children in the house.

‘Amira, there’s something else I need to tell you,’ Gisele said, her voice carrying to Amira in the hallway.

She turned, waiting.

‘Hans has requested that Fred play at a banquet for the SS,’ she said. ‘He said an invitation would be sent for both of you, but asked if I would informally pass the message along so you could prepare. Apparently he mentioned it to Fred at your wedding breakfast. It’s a celebration of sorts from what I understand, but I’m not privy to what they’ll be celebrating.’ She paused. ‘I’m sure you understand that these things are common for Fred to be invited to, but this is a special event because the wives have all been invited, too.’

Amira’s blood ran cold. ‘I’m to be invited?’ Please, no. Please don’t tell me I have to sit surrounded by the enemy, in a room full of the very worst men in Berlin.

‘I’m sorry,’ was all Gisele said. ‘Hopefully in telling you early, you’ll have time to prepare, because I’m certain all the wives will be very curious about you and Fred. They’re like that when anyone new is introduced, but you have your story well-rehearsed already, and the more you tell it, the easier it will become to lie.’ Gisele’s smile wasn’t bright like it usually was. ‘This will be part of your life with Fred now. He’s the pianist of choice for the party, so there is an expectation that he will always make himself available to perform, of which he is very much aware.’

If Amira hadn’t known better, she would have thought she were being punished for something. Or perhaps it was simply all part of Gisele’s grand plan to ensure that no one guessed who she, or Fred, truly was.

Amira shut her eyes, raising her hand and leaning in to the wall to steady herself, her mind and heart racing.

‘Could you not have suggested the concert happen in a few months instead? Told him that we were newly-weds who wanted to enjoy their first few months of marriage to buy us some time?’

‘We’re all doing what we have to, to survive, and we’re in the middle of a war,’ Gisele said. ‘You must know that if there was anything more I could do, I would do it. It’s a game we all have to play, and I have to support Hans in whatever he’s asked to do, or should I say in whatever he asks me to do.’ They stared at one another. ‘He’s my husband , Amira.’

And I’m your best friend.

It hung between them in the silence, three little words that suddenly seemed to change everything. He’s my husband.

But suddenly Amira’s mind flooded with what she’d seen, and she wondered what part Hans was actually playing in the atrocities happening around them. She thought of the family standing on the street with the yellow stars pinned to their lapels. The little boy with a grubby face stealing bread and being chased by men in black uniforms, their batons raised. The woman begging for food at the bakery, only to be shoved out of the store and told that Jews weren’t served there. The storefronts smashed into shards for shop after shop on the Night of Broken Glass. The families crying as their men were hauled away, entire groups herded and marched from the city.

That was her fate if she didn’t keep pretending and playing the game Gisele talked of, if the one person in her life who loved her didn’t continue to protect her and decided to choose her husband over her childhood friend. She had walked past those Jews back then, witnessed these things as if she were different, as if they meant nothing to her, even as tears clung to her lashes, even as she wanted to scream for someone to do something, anything . Did that make her as guilty as everyone else?

‘I think I should go now,’ Amira said, hearing how wooden her voice sounded, wishing she’d never come to visit.

Gisele reached for her and Amira let her friend squeeze her hand. ‘If you need me to help you find something to wear...’

Amira nodded. ‘Thank you, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.’

‘I hope to see you before the concert?’

Amira smiled again, acutely aware that Gisele was the keeper of her secret, and that even if she was angry, she would have to be careful about how she conducted herself. She’d been so worried about Gisele’s mother being the one person who could bring everything crashing down around her, but for the first time, standing in her friend’s house, she realised how much faith she’d put in Gisele herself. She’d never doubted her before, but their conversation today had planted a seed of worry that she wasn’t certain would be so easy to ignore.

‘I’ll see you soon, Gisele,’ Amira said, forcing herself to step forward and hug her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.

She’s my best friend. She’s protected me since I was a girl. Don’t doubt her now.

Gisele’s hold on her was tight, as if she didn’t want to let her go.

Two weeks later, Amira walked into a room full of men and their wives, all of whom she was acutely terrified of, and very much wishing she’d been able to arrive with Gisele, who would have known exactly what to say to put her at ease. Instead, she clung to Fred’s arm as if her life depended upon it, reciting their cover story in her mind and trying to make herself believe that it was fact, not fiction.

‘Remember, to anyone else,’ he murmured, gently prising her fingers from his arm, ‘we look like any other newly-weds. Just smile and try to pretend as if you belong here.’

She made a conscious effort to unclench her teeth, trying to release her jaw into a smile. Having her hair in a beautiful up-do and wearing a silk dress hadn’t helped her confidence any.

When they stopped walking, just before they reached a small group of couples gathered, Fred stopped and smiled down at her, leaning forward to brush a gentle kiss on to her cheek. ‘You look beautiful,’ he said. ‘I’m the envy of every man here.’

She touched his arm, her hand lingering before falling away. He’d said more to her tonight than he’d said all week, but somehow, in public, they were able to put on a good show, and she also knew that he needed her tonight. He was having to perform for the people responsible for taking his Christoph away, after all. She’d found that he spent nights pacing the kitchen with a cigarette burning on the table, long forgotten about, or sitting at his piano and staring into the distance, and it had become worse in the lead-up to the performance. He was pleasant to her, given that he thanked her for dinner or smiled when she said she was retiring for the evening, but mainly they were just two strangers existing in the same space.

‘Ahh, the happy couple has arrived,’ Hans said, coming over to them and shaking Fred’s hand. ‘Everyone is looking forward to hearing you tonight, Fred. It’s an honour to have you here.’

‘The honour is all mine, and I’m very much looking forward to playing,’ he replied. ‘Would you mind terribly if I asked you to look after my wife in my absence?’

Gisele came over then, taking Amira by the arm and kissing her cheek, before walking her away. ‘I shall do the looking-after,’ she announced, before squeezing Amira’s arm tightly and whispering: ‘I’ve missed you. I’m so sorry about the other day, what I said—’

‘I’ve missed you, too,’ Amira said. And she had. Terribly. No matter what had been said or how she’d felt on the day, two weeks without Gisele had been torturous, and she knew how hard it must have been having her mother arrive.

‘Can I introduce you to some of the other wives?’ Gisele asked, before adding, ‘They’re all looking at us and no doubt wondering who you are.’

‘Are you certain—’

‘You belong here,’ Gisele whispered to her. ‘Everyone here adores Fred, and as such they will adore his new wife. I promise. This is all part of hiding in plain sight, am I right?’

Amira knew she was right – the deeper she went into this world, the fewer questions that would ever be asked of her – but it didn’t make being there any easier.

Gisele bent her head to Amira’s as she followed along beside her, smiling politely at the handful of women gathered. They all wore beautiful, modern dresses made of fine silks and satins, nothing at all like the practical clothing that Hitler encouraged German women to wear, and diamonds glittered under the lights at their ears and collarbones. She was thankful that she’d acquiesced and worn the diamond pendant necklace that had once belonged to her mother, after debating whether to do so for at least an hour before they left home. It was only when Fred had walked in to her room looking for her, a glass of whisky in hand and dressed in a tuxedo, and told her how perfect the necklace was, that she’d relented. She was his wife now, and she had to look the part, even if it meant unstitching jewels from inside her coat; which she’d done to safeguard herself against the very people she was now surrounded by.

‘Ladies, I have someone to introduce to you all,’ Gisele said, and Amira was amazed at how effortlessly she slipped into the role of SS wife. The women gathered were married to men who held very high ranks, and Amira imagined they’d faint if they realised they were in the company of a Mischling.

‘You’re married to the pianist?’ one of the women asked, her eyebrows pointed.

‘I am,’ Amira said, forcing herself to project her voice instead of shrinking away as she wanted to. ‘Frederick and I were married just a fortnight ago.’

The women’s eyes all widened at the news she was a newly-wed, followed by question after question and then whispers of advice, as if they were talking to a close friend.

‘Tell us how you met such a dashing musician?’

‘Oh, surely you don’t want to hear all that,’ Amira said.

‘We do!’ said one of the women, whose name she’d already forgotten. ‘Was it love at first sight?’

‘Actually, it was,’ Amira said, blushing but knowing that it would only add to her story. ‘I recently lost my father, and I often walk around the park when I’m lost in my thoughts. One day I tripped and fell, and would you believe that Fred was the one to help me up from the ground?’

The women all looked enraptured with her story, and she glanced at Gisele before continuing.

‘He asked me if he could buy me coffee, and we spent all afternoon talking,’ she said. ‘And here we are today.’

Amira’s heart was racing as she was saved from having to talk any more by the women all cooing and starting to share their own stories, and she was relieved when the men finally fell silent, causing a hush to immediately fall over the women surrounding her too. She smiled and turned to look at Frederick, who was in position at the piano now, his music open in front of him, fingers poised over the keys. But she quickly realised it wasn’t Frederick’s performance that everyone was waiting for.

Amira slowly turned, a gasp catching in her throat as she saw who’d entered the room.

Dr Joseph Goebbels.

He was even smaller in person than she’d imagined, his features fine and almost pointy, and his wife was more beautiful than Amira had expected. They entered the foyer as if they were royalty, and she supposed they almost were, given how close they both were to Hitler.

‘Heil Hitler!’ the men all called, raising their hands as Goebbels came near, and Amira found herself holding her breath, mouthing the words as he walked past her.

‘Magda, it’s wonderful to see you,’ one of the women said.

Gisele moved closer to Amira, who was frozen in place, so close their arms were touching, her smile fixed. ‘Relax,’ she murmured, barely moving her mouth. ‘Just breathe.’

Amira remembered telling Fred before they’d arrived to pretend he was playing just for her, at home in their flat, and she told herself the same thing now – to close her eyes and listen to him and pretend they were at home.

‘Fred is counting on you,’ Gisele whispered. ‘You’re doing great.’

Amira opened her eyes and looked over at Fred; at his long, tapered fingers and his straight back as he sat, poised to play.

‘New love,’ one of the women said. ‘Just look at the way she watches him.’

Amira pretended she hadn’t heard, realising just how much her every move was being scrutinised by these women, but when she glanced back at Gisele, she could see that she was just as tense as Amira was herself. Thankfully, someone called for quiet before anyone could speak again, and they were all ushered to their seats.

The performance lasted for close to an hour, and although Amira was in awe of her new husband’s talents, she found it almost impossible to concentrate on his music. She was so acutely aware of the people around her, of the whispers from the wives who were complicit in their husbands’ brutality but yet were so impossibly genteel in the company of others. She wondered if they truly knew the blood their families had on their hands, and whether some of them had even moved into homes that had once been the residences of Jewish families. And that was when the twinkle of a diamond caught her eye, and she imagined that even their jewellery might have once belonged to another, or perhaps their fur coats.

Her attention was diverted when the room erupted into applause and Fred stood, stepping out from behind the piano and bowing directly to Goebbels, who sat at front and centre, and then to the rest of the crowd gathered.

‘Bravo!’ Goebbels called, before waving the waiters back over with their trays of champagne and food.

‘You must be terribly proud of your husband,’ a woman said, and when Amira turned, she found that it was Magda Goebbels herself. Her eyes were bright with interest, and the way she smiled almost fooled Amira into thinking she was as genuine as she appeared. Almost.

‘I am,’ Amira said, lowering her glass of champagne. ‘There is nothing more beautiful than waking to the sound of him playing in the mornings.’ She promised herself she would rise the next morning to hear him play and sit beside him, instead of wallowing in bed and hoping that he’d warm to her. If I survive the evening.

‘Well, that sounds terribly romantic. Don’t you think so, Hilda?’

The woman she had called Hilda stepped closer to them, but she looked distracted. And that was when Amira overheard what the men were talking about.

‘It was nothing short of spectacular!’ one of the men boasted. ‘You had the crowd mesmerised. I say you need to do another like it.’

‘Joseph, they were certainly enraptured with you,’ another man said. ‘I agree. Keep the party and all the people rallied about what’s happening and do another.’

Amira knew what they were speaking of – Gisele had been in attendance at his last speech, but her friend had refused to tell her any more about it than Amira had already heard.

‘I... I wish I could have been there to hear your husband’s speech myself. You must be so proud,’ Amira found herself saying, trying not to stutter over her words.

‘How about we ladies go someone we can gossip, away from the men?’ Hilda said with a wicked grin.

Magda’s smile was more subtle. ‘That sounds like a wonderful idea.’

Amira looked around the room, suddenly wishing she’d eaten before they came and feeling like a sheep in a lion’s den. There was enough food being passed around to feed countless starving families; more champagne bottles being opened than she could comprehend, the wealth in the room palpable.

She held her sandwich between her fingers and tried not to squash it as her anger took hold again, hoping she didn’t look out of place. But she immediately wished they’d moved away as soon as Hilda had suggested it, when she heard what some of the other women were talking about.

‘Look, I know it’s not a pleasant conversation, but the faster they can get those Jews through the gas chambers—’

Amira coughed and dropped her sandwich, barely able to breathe, just as Joseph Goebbels himself walked past them to join his wife.

‘We’re here tonight to celebrate German music, my dears,’ Goebbels said, interrupting them as he passed. ‘It’s a rare evening that we all get to enjoy a man with Frederick’s talents, don’t you think?’

Amira looked up in horror as Fred appeared by her side, and her eyes locked on Goebbels, who was standing so close to her.

‘Amira, are you alright?’ Fred asked, putting his arm around her. ‘I dare say you ate too fast with all the excitement.’

‘I’m sorry, I just—’

‘I was the same when I was pregnant with my first child,’ Magda said, reaching out to pat her arm. ‘The sickness can strike when you least expect it, especially when alcohol and rich food are involved.’

‘My wife rarely drinks, so I think we can safely say that it’s a combination of the bubbles and...’ Fred paused, smiling at her and squeezing her shoulder. ‘Well, perhaps there is some other news that we weren’t aware of, darling. Certainly that would be a blessing so early in our marriage.’

Amira nodded, bending to pick up what she’d dropped, before a waiter rushed over and assured her that he would clean up the mess.

Fred’s eyes met hers, as if pleading with her to go along with his story, and she mustered a smile. For a man of few words at home, he was suddenly doing an incredible job of being the doting husband.

‘I hope I haven’t ruined what has been a spectacular evening,’ Amira said. ‘I’ve been feeling unwell on and off all week, and certainly the champagne hasn’t helped.’

‘Imagine how beautiful their children will be,’ Gisele said, coming to stand beside her, her smile wide. ‘Fred, I shall look after your lovely wife so you can return to the men. Thank you for such a riveting performance. As always, I am in awe of your talents.’

All of the women nodded and murmured in agreement, and Amira took the chance to pull away from Gisele.

‘Please excuse me,’ she said, passing her glass to a waiter and asking him where she’d find the ladies’ room.

Amira followed the direction he’d pointed her in, head down as she fought to breathe, trying to push away the thoughts circling her mind, the things she’d heard that she knew she’d never be able to stop thinking of. That these women could truly believe the Jews were the puppet masters of the Allies, when in truth they were being deported and murdered as if to purge them from existence... her hands began to shake so violently that she had to fist them to make them stop.

Amira was so lost in her own thoughts that she recoiled when a hand brushed her arm.

‘Hans?’ she said, surprised to find herself alone with him. ‘Is something wrong?’

She could see Fred looking at them when she glanced back at the crowd, his forehead creased with what she imagined to be concern as he stood with a small group of men.

‘Smile, as if I’m telling you something pleasant,’ Hans said. ‘If anyone questions you, I was asking you what I could buy Gisele for our wedding anniversary next month.’

She nodded, not liking the grip he now had on her arm, or the intensity of his whisper. She’d never been alone with him before, and she hoped never to be again.

‘Hans, you’re scaring me,’ she whispered, as he leaned even closer. ‘Please don’t hold me so tightly.’

‘I’ve had word from the Front,’ he said, his eyes boring into hers. ‘Maxi has been found alive.’

She gasped, her hand going to her mouth to try to stifle it.

‘Smile,’ he murmured. ‘Lower your hand at once and do not show your shock.’

Her heart raced as she looked up, lowering her hand and forcing a smile as he’d requested, at the same time willing her legs not to give way beneath her.

‘You’re certain?’ she whispered back. ‘You’re absolutely certain that he’s alive?’

She glanced past him at Fred, who was still watching them.

‘I’m certain,’ he replied. ‘I know that you’re married now, and I certainly shouldn’t be sharing this with you, but Gisele explained everything to me.’

Amira’s heart began to race so fast and hard that she thought it might explode from her chest. She took a hesitant step back from Hans, glancing over her shoulder at the roomful of people and wondering if she’d have any chance if she kicked off her heels and ran.

‘I know how worried you were, being a young woman on your own with no financial means,’ Hans said.

Amira looked up at Hans, tearful when his eyes met hers, as she realised that he didn’t know a thing. He looked as pained as she felt, and she knew what he was thinking: that no matter what they told him, Maxi would feel as if she had betrayed him, and Hans was going to have to be the one to tell him the news. It was the reason he was even telling her at all, and the thought of her darling Maxi’s heart being broken was enough to make her want to fall to her knees.

‘He’s coming home on leave. He’ll be here within the week.’

‘Please, tell him to come to me, tell him—’

‘You’re a married woman now, Amira. You know I can’t do that.’

She clutched Hans’ hand. ‘Please, you know that I would have never married if I thought there was even a chance—’

‘Telling you was a courtesy, Amira, because I know how much he meant to you. Now smile and let go of my hand at once.’

Hans left her and she did as he asked, standing alone to catch her breath, trying to look as if her world hadn’t just collapsed beneath her, until Fred came to join her, clearly sensing her distress.

‘Is everything alright?’ he asked, stepping in front of her to shield her from prying eyes. ‘Why did Hans pull you aside like that?’

He slipped his hand into hers and she held it tight. They barely knew each other, and yet in that moment he held her as if he knew precisely what she needed.

‘My Maxi is alive,’ she whispered, as his eyes widened with surprise. ‘And he’s—’

She stumbled over the words, emotion creating a catch in her throat.

‘He’s...’ Fred began, waiting for her to continue, his face appearing to harden.

‘Fred, he’s coming home,’ Amira said, staring up at him. ‘My Maxi is coming home, to Berlin, and I don’t know what to do.’