The Pianist’s Wife

Chapter Thirty-Seven

‘We’re going to jump the first time the truck slows,’ Fred said, his voice low, speaking directly into her ear. ‘We jump, then roll to the side and lie flat on the ground.’

Amira had one hand pressed firmly to her stomach, feeling unwell but not about to complain given the circumstances. She was worried about the jump, but she was far more worried about being caught and sent back to the camp, which meant she was inclined to trust that she could do whatever was necessary.

The truck rumbled along, but just as Fred had expected it suddenly slowed, and after listening out to ensure that it wasn’t a blockade, his eyes flashed at her in the darkness and he leapt from the back of the truck. Amira took a deep breath and did the same, doing her best to jump straight and land on her feet. She instead landed awkwardly, the weight particularly painful on one ankle, but Fred had partially broken her fall by helping to catch her, and they rolled sideways and lay flat to the grass, the only noise their ragged breathing, their bodies side by side.

‘Are we clear?’ Amira asked, a few minutes after the truck had gone, the ground no longer vibrating.

‘Clear,’ Fred whispered back, getting up and holding out a hand.

Because of the horrible weather and the blackouts, it was almost impossible to see anything, but in the moments when the clouds cleared slightly and the moon shone through, they were able to get their bearings.

We’re free. We’ve made it, we’ve actually made it! But the moment of exhilaration passed almost immediately as a shiver of fear ran through her. They might be outside of the camp, but it certainly didn’t mean they were free.

‘Is that a house up there?’ Amira asked, clinging to Fred’s hand as if her life depended on it while they walked. ‘I think it is, but—’

‘Yes, it is,’ he said. ‘Let’s head that way.’

The rain had eased but the wind was unbearably cold, and Amira found herself focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. The hand that wasn’t holding Fred’s was placed on her stomach, and she guessed that Fred was finding it as hard as she was to keep moving.

They were hungry. They were tired. They were cold. But nothing was going to stop them from walking step by step to the house ahead.

‘What do we do?’ Amira asked, her teeth chattering. ‘When we get there?’

‘We hide in a barn, if they have one, and we figure out the rest in the morning.’

‘But we’re so close to the camp, what if they come looking for us?’ she asked. ‘What if this is where they start their search?’

Fred was silent as they kept walking, her boots squelching with every step now. ‘All I could imagine was being safe and warm for the night,’ he said. ‘But you’re right. If they come looking, this might be the first place they look.’

‘So we should keep walking then?’ Amira asked, not knowing how many more steps she could possibly ask of her body.

‘No, we rest for a few hours, then at daybreak we move on. There’s no use us walking in the dark, having no idea where we’re going and using up all our energy.’

Amira agreed, but she was also scared. If the guards from Buchenwald came looking and found them there... She gulped. It might be a fate worse than death, especially if they’d already discovered the murder of one of their own.

It took them some time to reach the house they’d seen, having climbed two fences, and Fred still had hold of her hand as they edged their way around a brick structure that appeared to be an outbuilding of sorts. She was mildly terrified that it might contain animals that would take fright and call out in the night, alerting whoever was in the house, but when they went inside, it appeared to be empty, save for some hay stacked neatly near the back.

‘Let’s sit down here for a bit,’ Fred said, letting go of her as he moved a wheelbarrow and pulled some of the hay down for them to sit on. ‘You can rest and I’ll stay awake.’

‘We can both stay awake,’ she said, lowering herself beside him, pressing against him for warmth. ‘I don’t need to sleep.’

‘No, you rest. For the baby,’ he said.

And although she thought she’d never fall asleep, her ears straining for any sound, her eyes wide, they slowly began to close as Fred’s arm went around her and she nestled into the enclave of his shoulder.

When Amira opened her eyes, first light was beginning to filter in through the open door of the building. She saw Fred standing there, looking out at the farm, and then she slowly looked around and noticed that the shed was full of not only hay, but all sorts of farm equipment.

‘Morning,’ she said, her voice creaky as she pushed up to her feet.

Amira placed a hand to her back to support herself, ambling over to stand beside Fred. ‘Good morning,’ he said, moving aside slightly so she could join him.

‘Did you get any sleep?’ she asked.

‘No, not a wink.’ Fred yawned and ran a hand over his face. ‘What I wouldn’t give for a cup of coffee.’

‘There’s been no movement inside the house?’ she asked.

‘No, but it’s only early. The farmer might be out soon, but then again, the farmer might be away fighting. It might only be his wife at home.’

‘Fred,’ she said, placing a hand on his shoulder as he peered out. ‘There’s a bicycle there, leaning against the side of the house.’

Fred followed her finger, and she saw his jaw harden, as if he were considering whether to steal it.

‘If we get caught taking the bicycle, we might draw attention to ourselves,’ he said.

‘If we stay here, we might be caught by breakfast time,’ she mused out loud.

Fred turned to her then, suddenly smiling. He almost laughed, his face turning up at the corners and his eyes crinkling.

‘You are a terrible excuse for a guard,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Your hair is curling out of the hat, and your face is far too pretty to be mistaken for a man’s.’

‘That’s not funny, Fred! If I’m such a terrible-looking guard—’

‘Then you cannot stay disguised as one. I will stay disguised as a guard, and you will be my wife. It’s the only plausible idea.’

She went to open her mouth, but shut it when he turned to her, his eyes searching hers.

‘Do you trust me?’

Amira nodded. ‘I do.’

‘Then stay here while I knock on the door,’ he said. ‘I’m going to tell whoever answers that I’m searching for an escaped prisoner, and go room to room, making them think that I suspect them of hiding someone.’

‘And you’re going to steal clothes for me to wear?’ she asked, her eyes widening.

‘Yes, Amira, that’s precisely what I’m going to do. And then I’m going to ask to borrow that there bicycle, and we’re going to get as far away from Buchenwald and Weimar as we can, before anyone catches up with us.’

She stood back as Fred pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and touched her stomach, before taking a deep breath and striding towards the house, leaving her to fret about how close they were to the camp, imagining trucks rolling up the road at any moment. But to her relief, the air was silent, the only noise the early sound of birds calling as day began to break.

Amira had been huddled against the hay for probably fifteen minutes, maybe longer, when Fred reappeared, his face telling her that he’d been successful. But it wasn’t until he produced a dress and cardigan from beneath his too-big jacket that she knew just how successful.

‘I was right about it just being the farmer’s wife in the house,’ he said. ‘But I don’t want you to change yet, just in case she’s looking out the window. If anyone from Buchenwald comes looking for a man and a woman, that will be what gives us away. I want her to say that she saw two guards searching, which won’t alert them to anything.’

‘What shall we do then?’ Amira asked. ‘What are you proposing?’

‘We walk out together, as two guards, and I will take the bicycle,’ he said. ‘We shall keep going until we find another house.’

‘But what if they figure out that we’re not real guards?’

‘They won’t, Amira. All they will see are the guards’ uniforms, and all you have to do is keep your back turned so they can’t see your face.’

Amira nodded. It was no more risky than the plan to escape the camp. ‘It’s a long way to Berlin on foot or bicycle from here, Fred.’

‘Exactly, which means we’re going to have to come up with a cover story. We’re going to have to stop somewhere.’

They stepped out of the barn and Amira walked as confidently as she could away from the property, while Fred took the bicycle and eventually caught up to her. It wasn’t until they were side by side again that he told her his plan. He helped her on, holding the handlebars steady.

‘After we find the next house, we’ll get you changed, hide the uniform and the bike, and I will start walking with a terrible limp, so I can pass as a wounded soldier.’

‘You truly think that will work?’ she asked, already breathless even though Fred was helping to push the bike along.

‘It has to,’ he said, and she saw then how terrified he was. ‘Because if it doesn’t, I don’t know what else we can do.’

‘I wish Hans had thought this through more, that he’d had a plan for what we were supposed to do once we were out in the open.’

‘So do I,’ Fred said, his voice breaking as he looked away from her, clearly not wanting her to see his face. ‘Trust me, Amira, so do I.’

Amira was grateful for Fred pushing her, her legs weak and barely able to turn the pedals, and she was so hungry that all she could think about was food. At one point she started to look around at the fields they were passing, trying to find something, anything , that might be edible. But all she could see was grass and more grass, and trees dotted throughout the fields.

Sweat began to trickle down her neck as the sun rose higher in the sky, and she started to wonder if she might actually topple off the bike. Despite doubting her ability to balance, once she’d started riding it she’d quickly found her rhythm and had managed to keep going, but she was beginning to falter, so hot from having to keep moving. She tried not to think about her baby, and what effect this type of exertion might have on her child, knowing she’d never forgive herself if something happened.

‘Just a little longer,’ Fred said, as he walked alongside her. ‘There’s a farm up ahead, I’m certain of it.’

It turned out that his words of encouragement were all she needed, and sure enough, when they rounded the corner he was right about there being a farm. She stopped and carefully dismounted, and he took the bicycle from her and guided it towards a cluster of trees.

‘You want me to get changed here?’ she asked.

Fred nodded. ‘I think it would be best.’

She did as he suggested, quickly stripping out of the uniform and carefully taking Hans’ letter from her pocket as Fred held the clothes out to her, but it wasn’t until she was dressed that she realised she would have to wear the too-big men’s boots that she’d worn ever since they’d left the camp.

‘I don’t have a good feeling about this,’ she began.

But Fred held up his hand. ‘We’ve fallen on hard times, there’s nothing unusual about having ill-fitting shoes, not during a war.’

They were both so fatigued that they left it at that, and Amira tucked her discarded clothes against the base of the tree, hoping that no one would see them. Her pulse ignited as she imagined the dogs finding them, and how quickly their location would be discovered, but she refused to let herself think any more about what could happen. Think about seeing Gisele again. Think about Otto. Think about finally making it away from here.

‘Amira,’ Fred said, taking her hand and hurrying her along. ‘They’re leaving, look.’

He was right. Up ahead, a horse was moving painfully slowly, pulling a wagon, and as they got closer, walking as quickly as they could, she could see how old and thin the horse was, his legs looking as slow and tired as hers felt.

‘Hello there,’ Fred called out, seeming to have a burst of energy that surprised her as much as the fact he was engaging with the strangers. ‘Are you off to town?’

The couple were elderly, and the old woman looked Amira up and down, shaking her head at the state of her. Or at least that was what Amira imagined she was frowning at.

‘We’re going to stay with family,’ the old man said. ‘But we can take you to Weimar if that’s where you’re headed?’

Fred smiled, limping a few more steps. ‘Thank you for the kind offer, but we’ll be fine. I was only hoping that you wouldn’t mind us resting here on your property, against your tree.’

The old man waved at them as he encouraged his horse on, slapping the reins against his bony rump. ‘Rest away, you won’t trouble anyone.’

‘Fred,’ Amira whispered. ‘They offered us a ride.’

‘Yes,’ he said, leaning close. ‘But if word of our escape is circulating, we’ll surely be found in Weimar.’

‘But—’

‘They’re packed up to visit someone, they could be gone for days or even weeks,’ he said. ‘Which means that we can stay here while they’re gone.’

‘You mean for us to break into their home?’ she asked.

‘That’s precisely what I mean,’ he said. ‘We can rest and wait this out, pray they have some food stored away, and then we can begin our journey home.’

‘I don’t even know where home is anymore,’ Amira said, as tears began to slide down her cheeks.

Fred took her into his arms. ‘Neither do I, Amira. But what I do know?’ He wiped her cheeks with his thumb. ‘Home will be wherever our baby is. And that means we do anything we have to, to survive, even if it means breaking into this home to give us somewhere to rest and hide for the next few days. We have to believe we’ll be forgiven for our sins after everything we’ve been through.’

‘For the baby,’ she murmured.

‘For the baby,’ Fred repeated.

And so they sat in the shade of the tree until the horse and wagon were well out of sight, before Fred got to his feet and set about forcing his way inside.