The Pianist’s Wife

Chapter Fourteen

When Amira got home, she found Fred in the kitchen, which surprised her. She went in and sat down at the table, even more surprised when he stopped what he was doing to pour her a drink. She would have to tell Fred what she’d planned, but for now she just needed to sit for a moment and digest what she’d agreed to, and try to quell her guilt.

‘Thank you,’ she said, gratefully taking a sip of the brandy, even though she knew it was going to feel like liquid fire in her throat.

‘How was the reunion?’ he asked, glancing back at her as he stirred a pot on the stove. ‘It must have been quite something setting eyes on him again.’

‘I can’t believe he’s alive,’ she admitted. ‘Just seeing him, I mean, it’s almost impossible to believe.’

‘He’s here for long?’

‘Three days.’ Three short days before he’s sent back to war again. It seemed so cruel that he was only there for such a short time.

Fred was silent, and she knew that he was waiting for her to say whether she planned on seeing him again, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she stared down at her hands. She wouldn’t lie to him if he asked, but she wasn’t ready to volunteer the information.

‘I envy you, Amira,’ he said. ‘If I had the chance to see Christoph again...’ He sighed. ‘Anyway, I’d like to say sorry.’

‘Sorry?’ She stood to see what he was cooking. ‘For what?’

‘For living our cover story and not even trying to get to know you properly.’

She placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Fred, you’ve been perfectly fine.’

He gave her a look that made her laugh, and then he was laughing and she almost sloshed her brandy all over him.

‘But if I’m brutally honest, I would very much like to get to know you better. If we’re going to live here together and keep up this ruse, the very least we can do is become friends.’ Fred reached for his own drink, holding his glass up to clink against hers.

They both took a sip and then she sat down at the table again as he ladled out two bowls of stew and placed one in front of her.

‘Before I tell you about me, why don’t you tell me about your family,’ she said, as they looked awkwardly at one another. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him what Maxi had proposed, but she held back, not yet sure how to broach the subject. She was far more comfortable listening to him first.

‘Well, my parents passed away some years ago. My mother never had great health, I was her only son, and my father was actually killed in the first British air raid, four years ago.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Amira said, dipping her spoon into the bowl.

‘It sounds heartless, but I didn’t experience great sadness when my father passed, not like when my mother died,’ Fred said, pausing to take a small sip of liquor and looking infinitely more relaxed now he was talking. ‘He came home from the Great War a different man, and he was intolerable about my not enlisting, despite what he’d been through.’

‘He didn’t approve of you being a pianist?’

Fred chuckled. ‘Approve? No, my father most definitely didn’t approve. He wanted me to be an electrician, like him, and when I shared my dreams with him, he shook his head and told me what a disappointment I was. He had a successful business, and he wanted me to follow in his footsteps.’

‘He said that?’ Amira couldn’t believe it. ‘Did he not hear you play?’

‘Oh, he heard me, but he thought music was for women. He wanted me to find a pretty wife to bear my children, and most importantly, serve our great country.’

‘And you were given a dispensation from serving, for being a musician?’

‘I was. I would have fought if I had to, but I’m a pianist, not a soldier, and despite a short time doing an apprenticeship, before finding the courage to stand up to my father, I’ve stayed true to my calling.’

‘Even when the Nazi Party asked you to remain in Berlin? He still wasn’t impressed?’

‘No, sadly,’ Fred said. ‘I’ve devoted myself to my music, and to playing for everyone and anyone, with the exception of my father.’

‘So you’ve always had to hide yourself? From everyone in your family?’

Fred’s face was impossible to read, but she noticed how quickly he downed the rest of his drink before answering.

‘My father would have been the first to turn me in if he’d known,’ he said, and it was the first time she’d heard hatred in his voice. ‘If he’d so much as suspected what I was, he would have made sure I was properly dealt with.’

Amira watched Fred rise and pour himself another drink.

‘And your parents? What were they like?’ he asked.

‘My father spent his life doing everything he could to keep me safe.’ She thought of her mother then, of how proud she would have been to know that the man she loved had been able to keep her daughter safe for so many years. ‘He was a good man. I probably didn’t appreciate it enough at the time, but he did his best after my mother died. She was the lifeblood of our family, but after she passed he tried to be the best parent he could.’

They sat in silence for a moment as they finished their meal, before Fred’s eyes caught hers, as if he’d known she was waiting to share something with him. She knew that she had to tell him tonight, especially now that they’d opened up to each other.

‘Fred, there’s something I need to tell you.’

He sat back, glass in hand, his eyes meeting hers.

‘Maxi has asked me to join him at a hotel tomorrow. It might be the only chance we have to be together.’

‘You’ve already said yes to him?’

She looked up, not prepared to lie. ‘Yes, I have.’

Fred pushed his chair back from the table and stood, his face ashen as he stared down at her. ‘You’re prepared to risk both of our secrets to be with a man who might turn you in if he discovered the truth?’

Tears burned in the back of Amira’s eyes. ‘I love him, Fred. You’re right, I don’t know what he’d do if he knew the truth about me, but I have the chance to be with him again.’ She swallowed. ‘I thought I’d lost him forever.’

Fred turned his back, and she didn’t know what he was looking at or what he was thinking until he finally faced her again.

‘If you do this, if you go to the hotel—’

‘I’ll be careful, more careful than you could imagine,’ she said. ‘I promise.’

He sighed, silent for so long that she felt as if she were breaking. ‘Then go.’

She stared at him, barely believing the words she was hearing.

‘You’re certain?’

‘I am. If the shoe were on the other foot, if I could have even an hour with Christoph...’ He shook his head. ‘Perhaps I would have done so without even thinking to seek your permission.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, wiping at her eyes. ‘Thank you, Fred. I will never be able to thank you enough for trusting me.’

‘Just make sure you don’t get caught. You’ve seen first-hand now just how much those Nazi wives like to gossip.’