Chapter 20
Twenty minutes outside Berlin, the thumping from the rear of the ambulance shattered the tense silence. Max had been driving carefully, fast enough to matter, slow enough not to draw attention, but now Clara exchanged a sharp look with him as he guided the vehicle to the roadside.
Clara jumped out and ran around to the back, pulling open the doors.
Paul looked pale, but it was Hannah who seized Clara’s attention. She lay on the stretcher bed, both hands gripping her swollen belly, her groans caught between her teeth.
‘She’s in labour!’ Clara jumped into the back. ‘I need to examine her.’ She gave Paul a shove and he stumbled out of the ambulance.
‘What’s happening?’ asked Max, appearing at the doors.
‘Hannah’s in labour.’ Clara’s voice was steady but firm. ‘I need to examine her alone.’ She shut the door on Max’s startled face before he could protest, then turned to Hannah with practised calm.
A quick examination confirmed what Clara suspected. ‘You’re in labour. Only a couple of centimetres dilated. We need to get you somewhere safe quickly.’
Hannah’s eyes filled with tears, and she grabbed Clara’s hand. ‘Please don’t let anything happen to the twins.’
‘I will do everything I can to keep them safe,’ Clara said, squeezing Hannah’s hand. The words felt too much like a promise, but Hannah’s terrified eyes demanded something to hold onto. She covered Hannah with the blanket and then went out to speak to Max.
‘We need to go,’ said Max as soon as she stepped foot outside.
‘I know that. But Hannah is in labour.’
‘Advanced?’
‘No, but I don’t know how long we have, a couple of hours maybe or longer, it all depends on how quickly the babies want to arrive.’ She looked at Paul and was pleased to see some colour had returned to his face. ‘I’ll stay in the back with Hannah. Where are you taking her?’
‘A safe house. Her husband is waiting there for her,’ said Max.
‘Good. Please drive as quickly as you can but also avoid any bumps. Hopefully, we can get her to the safe house in time.’
‘And get through the checkpoint,’ muttered Max. He threw the cigarette he was smoking to the ground. ‘Let’s go.’
The journey grew rougher as they left paved roads behind.
In the back of the ambulance, Clara braced herself against each lurch, one hand steadying Hannah, the other gripping the stretcher frame.
She could tell they were coming into the city by the way the ambulance ride grew smoother.
They stopped at the checkpoint and a guard peered in the back of the ambulance.
‘My patient is in labour,’ Clara called through the doors. ‘We need to get through. Now.’ On cue, Hannah let out a guttural moan as another contraction seized her. ‘Hurry up,’ repeated Clara.
The guard swiftly closed the doors, and Clara heard him calling to his colleague on the gate to let the ambulance through quickly.
‘Are we nearly there?’ Hannah panted as she tried to catch her breath.
‘Not long now,’ reassured Clara, holding Hannah’s hand.
‘We just need your babies to stay where they are for a little longer.’ As she sat there, Clara became aware of the change in the engine, not slowing exactly but struggling.
A stuttering, uneven rhythm that made Clara’s stomach clench with dread.
She didn’t know much about motor engines, but she knew enough to realise the ambulance didn’t sound right.
Suddenly, Clara felt the ambulance lurch to the right, and she was almost thrown off her seat as it took a tight left-hand turn, before coming to a halt, the engine still running, albeit poorly.
‘Are we here?’ asked Hannah.
‘I don’t know.’ Clara listened as she heard the driver’s door open and then close. A few seconds later, the rear door opened, and Max hopped up. ‘I don’t think this thing is going to make it to the safe house.’
‘What?’ Hannah tried to sit up.
‘We can’t stay here though,’ said Max. ‘It will attract attention.’
‘What are you proposing?’ asked Clara.
Max looked uncertain. ‘Walking.’
Clara let out a laugh. ‘I hope you are joking. Hannah can’t walk very far. She’s in active labour.’
‘I’m fully aware of that,’ snapped Max. ‘But what do you want me to do? Call for a real ambulance?’
There was a heavy silence in the vehicle. Clara spoke first. ‘Whereabouts are we?’
‘In the Charlottenburg district,’ said Max. ‘We had to come this way to avoid any more checkpoints.’
‘My apartment.’ The words came out before Clara could second-guess them. ‘We’ll go to my apartment.’
Max stared at her. ‘Your apartment? A German officer’s apartment?’ A bitter laugh escaped him. ‘That’s not protection, Clara. That’s a trap.’
‘I have never been more serious,’ said Clara. ‘My husband is away. There is no one there. We need a safe place for the birth. We don’t have time to discuss this.’
‘Just do what she says,’ pleaded Hannah. ‘The contractions . . . they are getting stronger and closer.’
‘Go. Now!’ said Clara.
Five minutes later they were pulling up at the end of Clara’s street. ‘You will have to walk from here,’ said Max. ‘We can’t afford to draw attention from the neighbours.’
‘Can you walk?’ Clara searched Hannah’s face.
Hannah’s jaw set with determination that cut through the pain. ‘I’ll crawl if I have to.’
Every midwifery instinct Clara possessed screamed against this, but Max was right. An ambulance outside her building would have neighbours at their windows within minutes.
‘We need to go as quickly as possible,’ said Clara.
‘Your contractions are roughly every four minutes. We’ll wait for the next one and then we should be able to make it to the apartment building before the one after that comes.
’ She hoped she sounded far more confident than she felt about this.
She looked at Max. ‘It’s twins. I’ll need another pair of hands.
’ Clara caught Max’s eye, trying to communicate what she couldn’t say aloud – complications, haemorrhage, death.
His expression shifted. He understood. ‘I need you to get my friend Marie. She’s a midwife. It’s her day off.’
‘Can you trust her?’
‘Of course I can. I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise. I need her.’
Max hesitated for a moment, before relenting. ‘All right. Tell Paul where to find her. He’ll bring her. In the meantime, I’ll get rid of this.’ He jerked his head towards the ambulance.
The next four minutes seemed more like ten, and never before had Clara wished for another contraction to come so quickly. Hannah groaned and gripped Clara’s arm tightly as the contraction rose in intensity and then faded.
‘Ready?’ asked Max, immediately Hannah appeared not to be in pain.
Hannah nodded. They climbed out of the ambulance and made their way down the road towards Clara’s apartment. Fortunately, it wasn’t busy, and they didn’t bump into anyone Clara knew.
They had just reached the main entrance of the apartment building when Hannah’s grip on Clara’s arm tightened. ‘Contraction,’ she gasped.
‘Breathe,’ said Clara. ‘Just breathe through it. I know it’s hard but try not to make any noise.’
Somehow Hannah managed to get through the contraction without crying out. She bent over double, and Clara had to hold onto her. She knew the babies were going to be born very shortly.
Clara yanked open the lift gate, and they stumbled inside. The mechanism groaned to life. In the confined space, Hannah’s ragged breathing seemed impossibly loud. Every second Clara expected a neighbour’s door to open, curious faces to appear, questions that would doom them all.
Within a few minutes they were safely inside the apartment. Clara ushered Hannah into the spare bedroom and helped her get comfortable on the bed. Then she set about getting everything she needed for the impromptu home birth.
Nearly an hour passed and Clara was just beginning to worry that Paul hadn’t been able to find Marie, when there was a knock at the door – the usual pattern she had grown accustomed to being Paul’s.
‘Told you he’d be here,’ said Max, who, since disposing of the ambulance, had been waiting in the kitchen, out of Clara’s way.
Clara opened the door and Marie hurried in, followed by Paul.
‘I’m sorry I had to get you involved,’ said Clara. ‘But it’s twins.’
‘Don’t be sorry,’ said Marie giving her friend a hug. ‘I’m glad you asked me.’
Clara felt relieved Marie was there. It was one thing overseeing the birth of one baby, but two, she needed help.
Time blurred in the small bedroom. Clara and Marie worked in tandem, their hands sure and steady despite the danger beyond the apartment walls. Hannah’s labour progressed rapidly but both babies were positioned well.
‘You’re doing beautifully,’ Clara murmured to Hannah as another contraction peaked. ‘Just a little longer now.’
David had arrived earlier, smuggled in by Max through the service entrance. He was standing outside the bedroom door, refusing to sit in the living room, despite Max’s encouragement.
The first baby, a girl, arrived swiftly. Her cry was strong and immediate, a sound of pure life that filled the room. Clara wrapped her quickly, efficiently, passing her to Marie while she prepared for the second twin.
‘Second baby’s coming,’ Clara said, her hands on Hannah’s abdomen. But something wasn’t right. The baby hadn’t shifted position.
Hannah’s eyes widened with fear. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ Clara said, keeping her voice even as her pulse quickened. ‘But this one’s being stubborn. Marie, I need you here.’
Marie moved quickly to Clara’s side. ‘Breech?’
Clara shook her head. ‘No, the head is at an angle, it’s blocking the birth canal.’
‘You’re going to have to physically move the head,’ said Marie.
Clara nodded. She had been trained to do this and had dealt with it before, although it wasn’t particularly common. ‘Can you do it?’ asked Marie.
‘Yes.’ She looked up at Hannah. ‘I’m going to have to manually move the baby’s head to allow it to travel down the birth canal. I will be as gentle as I can. What I need you to do is to tell me when you feel another contraction coming on. I need to do this between contractions.’
‘It will be all right,’ reassured Marie. ‘Clara is the best midwife I know.’
Clara took a deep breath before she attempted the procedure.
With one hand she felt for the baby’s head and with her other hand on Hannah’s abdomen, she worked quickly to try to reposition the head.
‘The little one just needs to tuck its chin down,’ she said, trying to sound calm and collected. ‘I need you to stay very still.’
‘Another contraction,’ said Hannah, panic in her voice.
‘Nearly there,’ said Clara. ‘Come on, little one, move your head down.’
Hannah whimpered.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Clara. ‘There. I think we’ve done it.’
Hannah grimaced as another contraction washed over her.
‘Almost there,’ said Marie, looking at Clara for confirmation. She nodded back. ‘One more push, Hannah. One more.’
Hannah bore down with a guttural cry. Everything happened so quickly. ‘The baby’s moving,’ said Clara. ‘I think we just need one more contraction.’
Poor Hannah, she looked exhausted. Marie was holding her hand, encouraging and reassuring her. Clara was right, on the next contraction, the baby was born.
‘A boy,’ Clara said, her voice shaking with relief as she wrapped him in a towel. ‘You have a son.’ She beamed at Hannah and then at David.
A few minutes later, Clara looked at Hannah holding one of her newborn twins while David perched on the edge of the bed with the other one. They looked the perfect family.
‘What will you name them?’ Clara asked softly.
Hannah looked down at her son, then across at her daughter in David’s arms. ‘Sarah,’ she said. ‘And Jakob. After David’s parents.’
‘They’re beautiful,’ whispered Marie, and Clara heard the catch in her friend’s voice. For a few precious minutes, here in the apartment, there was no war, no trucks waiting to take families away, no hatred. Only love for the new life and hope for a future.
Clara’s heart clenched as she looked on. This was why she was a midwife. Why she risked everything. These two tiny souls, these two precious lives that might not have existed if she’d stood by and done nothing.
She looked over at Marie, who met her gaze and smiled.
The moment of peace didn’t last long. Max and Paul were in the sitting room. Then she heard it. The sound that stopped her heart. Friedrich’s voice in the hallway, sharp with shock and anger.
‘What are you doing in my home?’
‘Don’t shoot!’ Paul’s voice cracked with panic. ‘Please, don’t shoot!’
Clara rushed out of the bedroom, Marie following her. ‘Friedrich!’ she cried. He wasn’t supposed to be home yet.
Friedrich had his pistol trained on the two men in his living room. Paul had gone white, hands raised in surrender, but Max stood perfectly still. He had the look of a man calculating his next move.
‘Clara, stay back,’ ordered Friedrich. He didn’t look at her, his eyes still on the two men.
Max’s steady voice broke through the silence.
‘Clara.’ His eyes never left Friedrich. That’s when she saw the gun in Max’s hand, aimed at her husband’s chest. Max continued, ‘I suggest you very quickly explain to your husband what is going on here before someone gets hurt. Or worse. No one wants a bloodbath.’