Chapter 19
‘Don’t be worried, now,’ said Friedrich, as he stood in the hallway of their apartment.
It was seven o’clock, the following morning.
His bag was by the door, all packed ready for his trip away.
‘I’ll be back in a week, maybe sooner if I manage to get everything done that I need to and find out what the problem with the supply chain is. ’
‘I know,’ said Clara. ‘Please don’t worry about me either.’
‘I will always worry about you.’ He kissed her and then held her from him, looking intently into her eyes. ‘You must take care.’
She smiled and tried to make light of the comment. ‘I’m not a risk taker. I fear I should be the one telling you to be careful.’ She straightened the knot of his tie, which didn’t need straightening, but meant she didn’t have to look him in the eye.
Friedrich held her a little longer as he hugged her goodbye. ‘Remember, take care. Great care,’ he said quietly into her ear.
As always, she waved to him from the window as he climbed into the car waiting to whisk him away. Her stomach was in knots. She knew what she was risking. Part of her wanted to stay here, keep the promise she’d made to Friedrich. But she couldn’t. Hannah’s name was on that list.
The rest of the day passed agonisingly slow. Clara wasn’t one to wish her life away, but all she could think about was Hannah and every minute doing nothing was a minute closer to whatever fate lay ahead for the young Jewish woman.
That night sleep had finally come to her, but she was awake early before dawn. By seven o’clock she was making a phone call to the clinic.
‘I’m so sorry, Frau Lange, but I’m not feeling very well. I won’t be in to work today,’ she said, trying to sound fatigued.
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Frau Bergmann. In what way are you unwell?’
‘I have a terrible headache and feel quite sick with it.’
‘Do you suffer with migraines?’
‘Occasionally,’ replied Clara, feeling utterly treacherous at lying to her superior.
‘Get some rest and hopefully you will be well enough to attend work tomorrow. I’ll arrange cover for your afternoon home visits.’
‘Thank you, Frau Lange.’
Clara put the phone down and checked her watch.
She had to be at the church by eight o’clock.
It didn’t leave much time. She made herself a coffee, but was already feeling queasy, and the smell did nothing to improve matters.
She ended up tipping it away. Such a waste, but she just couldn’t face it.
As she watched the dark liquid swirl down the plughole, the name Neuruppin and its significance struck her.
It had been playing on her mind and now she remembered with a cold realisation.
That was where Marie said Brandt had been transferred to.
She had gone to work in a maternity clinic, north of the city.
Clara grabbed her coat and headed out straightaway, not daring to be late. As she closed her apartment door and locked it, the door of her neighbour across the hall opened.
‘Good morning, Frau Bergmann,’ she said, stepping out with a small suitcase in her hand.
‘Good morning, Frau Becker.’ Clara looked at the suitcase. ‘Are you going away?’
‘To my sister’s. Just for a week.’
‘Oh, that will be nice.’ Clara smiled, trying not to appear too eager to be on her way. ‘Would you like me to carry your case down for you?’
‘No, thank you. I can manage. I’ll take the lift.’ She nodded at Clara. ‘Good day, Frau Bergmann.’
‘Have a good trip.’ Clara waited while the older woman entered the lift, before making her own way down the stairs. By the time she reached the ground floor, Frau Becker was already climbing into a waiting taxi.
Clara pulled her coat tight against the morning cold and walked purposely towards the tram stop, reminding herself to act like it was any other day when she was going to work or going about the city on her house calls.
She remembered Max saying to walk with confidence and purpose, not behave like she was scurrying around trying not to be seen. That would have the opposite effect.
It was just before the meeting time with Max when she rounded the corner to the church. She stopped in her tracks.
An ambulance sat at the kerb, engine running. Max leaned out of the driver’s window. ‘Get in.’
Clara stared at the vehicle. It was the last thing she had been expecting to see. ‘Don’t just stand there,’ said Max. ‘Get in, now.’
She crossed the street quickly and climbed into the passenger seat. She did a double take at Paul already in there, wedged in the middle. Both men wore white orderly coats over their regular clothes, Red Cross armbands on their upper arms. Max pulled away before she’d even closed the door.
‘Paul. I wasn’t expecting to see you,’ said Clara.
‘Guten Morgen, Clara,’ said Paul, smiling at her.
‘You both look very convincing in your uniforms.’
‘My sister got them for us,’ Paul said. ‘Works at the hospital laundry. Said they wouldn’t be missed for a day.’
‘Anything on Hannah?’ she asked as the ambulance rumbled along.
‘Still in Neuruppin. As far as we know.’ Max’s hands were tight on the steering wheel. ‘That’s where we’re going now. To get her out.’
Relief flooded through Clara. ‘Oh, thank God,’ she said in English under her breath. And then switched back to German. ‘How?’
From the side of the door, Max pulled out a folder and dropped it into her lap. Clara opened the folder. Official stamps. Wehrmacht letterhead. Authorisation codes. Transfer documents from the Office of Records.
Administrative error – subject incorrectly processed. Return to Berlin Central Registry for verification.
They drove in silence for a while. The city streets gave way to countryside. Clara watched the bare trees blur past.
‘Listen carefully,’ Max said eventually. ‘I can’t go inside. If anything goes wrong, I need to be able to drive away. Understand?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re there to accompany the patient safely back to Berlin. That’s all. You don’t know any other details. You will have to think on your feet if they start asking questions.’
‘Do you think they will check?’
Max shrugged. ‘It depends. We will arrive around the time of tea break so less staff about. Hopefully, the staff will be busy and less likely to get into lengthy red tape, checking every detail or making any telephone calls.’
The journey up to Neuruppin was uncomfortable with three of them squashed into the cab, but bearable. They had gone through a checkpoint out of the city without any problems and just a cursory glance at their documents and inside the rear of the vehicle.
Two hours later they were pulling into the gates of the medical facility in Neuruppin. Clara stared at the building through the windscreen. Grey stone. Small windows. A sign by the entrance ‘Entbindungsheim Neuruppin’.
Her stomach twisted.
‘You remember the plan?’ Max’s voice was quiet.
‘Yes.’
‘Twenty minutes. No more.’
Clara nodded. She reached for the door handle, but her hand was shaking.
Paul touched her arm. ‘You can do this. I’ll be with you.’
She looked at him. At Max. Both of them were risking everything. She took a breath and opened the door.
The cold air hit her face. Paul climbed out and from the rear of the vehicle he retrieved a wheelchair, expertly flicking it open as if he’d done it a hundred times before.
‘Ready? Be calm. This is a normal medical transportation of a patient,’ he said as he stood beside her.
Clara clutched the folder with the false documents in her hand. If a young man like Paul could be so calm, then she could too. Hannah and her unborn babies depended on her. ‘Let’s go,’ she said and walked towards the building.
Clara pushed through the doors, holding it to let Paul through with the wheelchair. The smell hit her first. Antiseptic. Too much of it. Covering something else underneath. The corridor stretched ahead, white walls and closed doors. A nurse sat at a desk, writing in a ledger.
She looked up as Clara and Paul approached. ‘Can I help you?’
Clara forced a smile. ‘Patient transfer request forms,’ she said, passing over the folder. ‘A patient was brought here by mistake. I’m here to take her back to Berlin.’
The nurse’s eyebrows rose. ‘To take a patient back? This is very irregular. What do they need to clarify?’
Clara shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’ve just been assigned to accompany her.’
‘I will need to check with my superior,’ said the nurse, reaching for the telephone on her desk.
‘That’s fine, but you can do that while we get the patient,’ said Clara. ‘We haven’t got much time.’
‘I think you should wait first,’ said the nurse.
‘The authorisation is time-stamped,’ Clara said, tapping the folder. She had no idea if there was such a thing. ‘It’s valid until lunchtime. After that we will need new paperwork for the ambulance requisition. Do you want to explain to the Wehrmacht why their transport schedule was delayed?’
‘I will get my superior,’ said the nurse. ‘Please wait a moment, Frau . . . ?’
‘Frau Wenger.’
‘One moment.’
As soon as the nurse had disappeared down the corridor, Clara quickly checked no one was about and spun the ledger around. Admissions for the end of last week.
There were four names, each one with a due date in the next three or four weeks. Her finger traced down the list.
Stern, Rachel, 36/40 – Zimmer 12.
Thur, Sarah, 36/40 – Zimmer 8.
Rothstein, Hannah, 37/40 – Zimmer 15.
The sound of footsteps returning had Clara spinning the ledger back around.
She quickly made out she was looking for something in her bag when the nurse returned, along with a tall, thin man in a white coat, his Nazi Party pin glinted on his lapel.
‘This is Oberarzt Dr Dankmar,’ she said.
‘He handles all matter regarding patient transfers.’
‘Guten Tag, Frau Wenger.’ Dankmar held out his hand which Clara shook.
‘Guten Tag, Herr Dankmar.’
‘I understand there’s been an error with a patient, and they need to be taken back to Berlin for verification.’
‘That’s right.’