Chapter Thirty-Five
Amira had never been so anxious as she waited for Fred to return from performing. There had been days when he wasn’t called upon, but when he was informed that the SS were hosting an event at the commander’s villa, they’d known that there was a chance Hans would be present. They’d seen him at other times since he’d slipped them the note, but there had been no letters from Gisele, no more messages, nothing since then.
And each week Amira’s stomach grew slightly in size, her baby beginning to move, making it hard for her to get comfortable at night, and increasingly hard for her to breathe. But tonight, she was certain there would be news. And if not... then she was starting to doubt whether Hans had a plan at all. She was only grateful they were still in the special camp, because she truly didn’t know if she’d have survived the main one.
At some point in the evening, Amira lay down and fell asleep, but she woke when Fred sat beside her, pushing herself up to a sitting position as he gently placed a hand to her middle. It seemed to settle him, the moment he touched her, and she didn’t mind the contact at all.
‘I was starting to worry,’ she whispered.
‘They had me play for hours,’ he said. ‘First it was a performance, and then they had me play so the couples could dance.’
She knew without asking that he would be exhausted.
‘Did you see Hans?’ she asked.
‘I did. He was one of the only men there without his wife, although I overheard him telling someone that she was unwell.’
‘Unwell?’ Amira panicked.
‘Don’t worry, I’m almost certain it was just an excuse for her not to be there. Because he didn’t mention anything when we spoke.’
‘You spoke to him?’ Amira grabbed hold of Fred’s arm. ‘What did he say?’
‘It was very brief, but he came to request a song again, which was very clever of him,’ Fred told her. ‘He whispered to me that the crematorium is almost out of fuel, and that within the next two days, they will run out completely.’
Amira listened intently, but she wasn’t certain how the information could help them. ‘And we could use that to our advantage how?’
‘He said there will be bodies piled up with no effective way to dispose of them, which will give us an opportunity to hide.’
She immediately felt nauseous. ‘To hide,’ she said, ‘ among them?’
Fred’s silence told her that she was right, and she took a moment to imagine exactly what that would entail and whether she could actually even do such a thing.
‘Did he tell you anything else?’ Amira asked. ‘It’s all very well hiding, but how exactly do we escape after that?’
Fred shook his head. ‘I don’t know. All I know is that we are going to have an opportunity to escape, and we have to decide whether we want to seize it, or whether we want to take our chances and stay here.’
They both sat in the dark, the sound of the wind whistling around the barracks making Amira draw her arms even tighter around herself. The cold was biting, the building full of draughts and certainly not fit for purpose in the middle of winter with no way to heat it, and they had barely enough blankets to cover them.
‘We escape,’ she said, without hesitation. ‘No matter how awful it will be, if Hans thinks we have a chance, then we do it. I don’t think we have any other choice.’
‘There will be risks,’ Fred said. ‘If we’re caught, we will be put in the main camp and we may not survive. Or we could be shot from a watchtower even when we’re on the other side of the fence.’
‘And if we stay?’ she asked. ‘There’s no guarantee that I’ll even make it through childbirth here.’
She placed her palm flat against her stomach, feeling her baby and knowing that everything they did from this point on was for him or her.
‘Then we go,’ Fred said. ‘We wait for Hans to tell us the plan, and we do this. Together.’
‘Together,’ she repeated, as they both lay down, fully clothed and huddling beneath the blanket. ‘We’re doing this for our child.’
Fred didn’t disagree, but he did hold her tight; tighter than he’d ever held her before. But as much as she tried to think of something else, all she could see when she closed her eyes were the pained faces of the dead, open-mouthed, thrown into a pile. A pile that she was going to have to climb into if she wanted a chance at leaving this godforsaken place.
The very next day, as Amira walked back and forth with Janot while the men sat and talked, their heads bent as they discussed something important, Amira stumbled, throwing out her arm to right herself.
It was Janot who caught her and stopped her from falling.
‘Sorry, I had a dizzy spell,’ Amira murmured.
‘You’re pregnant, aren’t you?’ Janot said. ‘I’ve noticed the change in you.’
‘I, I—’ Amira cast about for something to say, but Janot raised her hand.
‘It’s fine, I’ll keep your secret,’ she said. ‘But I don’t think it’ll be long until the others notice.’
‘You’re the first person to realise,’ Amira replied, and even though she was nervous about someone knowing her secret, it was nice to have someone to talk to about her pregnancy. ‘Do you have children of your own?’
‘No, I do not. Thank goodness, otherwise I’d be worrying about them terribly from in here.’
‘I only ask because I’m worried about delivering the baby when it comes. I know very little about childbirth.’
The sadness written over Janot’s face was impossible not to notice, and not for the first time, Amira wondered if she regretted her decision to follow Léon. They seemed very much in love, despite the conditions, and if she were brave enough Amira would have asked her. But asking Janot would have meant asking the same question of herself, and she wasn’t certain she knew how to answer it. She didn’t regret her decision to join Fred – her resolution to keep him safe was unwavering – but some days she wondered if it had been her most sensible idea.
There was a commotion outside the door then, and Janot reached out and held her hand again. Within seconds two guards appeared, and if she wasn’t mistaken, they were walking directly towards her.
Please be coming for Janot. Please be coming for her and not me.
‘Amira Schulz?’ one of them asked.
‘Yes,’ she replied.
‘Please, come with us.’
‘On who’s order?’ Fred asked, appearing by her side and stepping slightly in front of her. ‘This is my wife you’re speaking to.’
‘You don’t need to know on whose order,’ the other guard said. ‘You might be guests here, but that doesn’t mean we won’t use force if we need to. Step aside.’
‘Where are you taking me?’ Amira asked.
‘To the doctor.’
She froze and knew that all colour would have drained from her face. ‘Please no. I don’t need to see the doctor, I—’
‘Amira,’ Fred said, gently, as if he were talking to a child. ‘You’ll be fine. As the guard said, we’re guests of the Nazi Party. We can trust them.’
Trust them? she wanted to scream, and as she looked around the room and saw Janot, Léon and a handful of others looking at her as if she’d just received a fate worse than death, she knew that she wasn’t overreacting.
‘Mrs Schulz?’ the guard asked, looking as if his patience was wearing thin.
She nodded, knowing she had no choice and praying that Hans knew what he was doing. Visiting the camp doctor was more terrifying to her than anything, and she hoped Hans understood what he was about to put her through.
They walked out of the door and into the sunshine, past the guards with dogs and towards the main camp. She noticed that there was no smoke coming from the chimney, and it made her think about what Fred had said, about running out of fuel. It usually went every day, puffing smoke for hours and hours, the ash falling all over the ground, and she realised that requesting her presence at the doctor’s was probably the only way Hans could get her out of the barracks.
‘I shall take it from here,’ came a familiar voice. She saw Hans striding towards them. ‘This is Mrs Schulz? The wife of the pianist?’
Both the guards nodded, and she listened to their brief exchange, with Hans telling them that he was more than happy to escort her himself given he was going in that direction. He did tell them that they should take a break and then meet there to return her to the special camp though.
‘Walk quickly,’ he said, as soon as they were far enough away from prying ears.
‘Please don’t make me see the doctor,’ she murmured. ‘I’ve heard stories about him.’
‘It’s just a ruse,’ Hans whispered, urgently. ‘Just listen, we don’t have long.’
She nodded, moving slightly closer to him so as to hear better.
‘The fuel will be delivered tomorrow or the day following, so you need to do this tonight,’ he said, before pressing something cold into her hand. ‘I’m going to leave this key with you, to the rear door of the barracks that is hardly ever used. You’ll have to be careful, as the guards with dogs circle the perimeter on the hour, and the lights from the watchtower capture that area, too. But there is a birthday celebration tonight, which means there will be fewer guards rostered on. Even the ones working will be distracted with whisky and cake.’
Amira’s entire body trembled as the gravity of what they were going to attempt settled over her, and she tucked the key into her brassiere to ensure no one could see it.
‘You will make your way to the bodies piled up by the crematorium, and it’s imperative that you use something to make it look like you’re in bed, for when the guards check the barracks. They won’t inspect further if they see lumps that look like bodies in your bed.’
She felt like she was going to be sick just thinking about what they’d have to do, and what might happen to them if their deception was discovered.
‘You’ll have to hide in the bodies until you hear me, because the only way you’re getting out of the camp is if you’re dressed like guards.’
She shuddered at the mention of the bodies and tried to focus on the details, but she knew he didn’t have time to deal with her breaking down. She could cry later, when she shared the information with Fred. ‘We have to steal guards’ clothes?’
‘No, I will steal the clothes and you will quickly change and find your way to the trucks. You will need to jump on the back of a truck heading to Weimar, disguised as guards, and jump off well before you get there.’
‘And what then?’ she asked, as they neared the building.
‘After that,’ Hans said, ‘it will be up to you and Fred. I can only help you leave the camp grounds. Then? It’s up to the pair of you to stay alive.’
Amira didn’t have a chance to ask him anything else, because before she knew it the door to the hospital barracks was being swung open, and Hans was telling a guard to take her through to the doctor for an examination.
It’s up to Fred and me. She blinked away tears.
That was the part she was worried about.