Chapter 21
The cry of one of the twins cut through the air. Friedrich’s shoulders tensed and he turned his head a fraction towards the noise. ‘Clara. What is going on?’
Clara moved before she could think. Slowly, carefully, she crossed the hallway and placed herself between the two men. ‘Please put the gun down, Friedrich,’ she said, her voice steadier than she felt. ‘These men are here because I brought them.’
‘Clara . . .’
‘In our spare bedroom is a Jewish woman, Hannah Rothstein, with her newborn twins and her husband. I rescued her from Neuruppin. These men helped me. The babies are half an hour old.’
At this last sentence, Friedrich met her gaze. Friedrich stared at her as if seeing a stranger. ‘Clara, do you have any idea what you’ve done?’ His voice was barely above a whisper.
She nodded. ‘Yes.’ She stepped closer to him, gently pushing the pistol down towards the floor. ‘I’m sorry. You weren’t due home yet.’
‘I’m sorry I ruined your plan.’ The words came out clipped, bitter. Each syllable cut through Clara like glass. This wasn’t anger, this was fear disguised as fury, and beneath it all, the wound of betrayed trust. ‘Transport issues. We had to cancel and come back to Berlin.’
‘It was never planned. Not this. Hannah went into early labour,’ said Clara.
‘And what do you want me to do now?’ He was angry with her. Shocked. Disappointed maybe.
‘I can’t tell you what to do,’ she said softly. ‘You have to decide.’
‘If you don’t mind, I’d quite like to have a say in this,’ said Max. He still had his gun pointing towards Friedrich.
Clara turned to him. ‘Put your gun away,’ she said. ‘No one is going to shoot anyone here. Not in my home. Not when we have just risked everything to save a mother and her babies. Is that understood?’
Max seemed to consider this and then put his gun back in his waistband. He held up his hands. ‘If you say so. I trust you, Clara.’
She looked at her husband. ‘Friedrich?’
‘You’ve left me no choice.’ Friedrich met her eyes, and Clara saw everything in that look.
Fear, love, resignation. ‘This isn’t how it was supposed to happen.
You’ve brought this underground network into our home.
You’ve brought danger to our doorstep.’ His voice dropped. ‘And you’ve forced my hand.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Clara. ‘But I couldn’t . . .’
She stopped as Friedrich held up his hand.
‘Don’t. Don’t say anything. Not now.’ He turned his attention back to Max and Paul.
‘Have you got a plan? What were you going to do about a Jewish woman, her husband and twin babies in the home of a German officer? What were you planning to do about yourselves being here?’
‘This wasn’t a plan,’ said Max. ‘But this is what happened. I will make arrangements to move the family.’
‘To where?’ demanded Friedrich.
Max squared his shoulders. ‘I may be in the house of a German officer and still be alive but I’m not about to tell you where I am taking them.’
There was a stand-off. Friedrich broke the silence. ‘In that case, I will tell you where the patrols are tonight and what area is safe.’
Max raised his eyebrows. ‘And I am supposed to trust you?’
‘That is your decision,’ replied Friedrich.
‘You can trust him,’ said Clara emphatically, going to Friedrich’s side and slipping her hand into his and holding his forearm with her other hand.
Max nodded.
Clara made coffee with trembling hands while Friedrich and Max stood at the dining table in an uneasy truce, bent over a map of Berlin.
Their voices remained low, heads close together as Friedrich traced routes and marked patrol positions.
Watching them, Clara felt a strange mixture of pride and terror – her two worlds colliding in a way she’d never imagined.
Marie appeared at her side.
Clara slid a cup of coffee towards her friend. ‘How are the babies?’
‘They are well considering. A little on the small side, but they are healthy.’
‘I wish we didn’t have to move them in the night. It’s so cold,’ said Clara, picking up the tray of coffee cups and taking it through to the dining room.
Max and Paul both thanked her, while Friedrich gave a small but regretful smile, which only added to her feeling of guilt.
She retreated to the bedroom to check on Hannah and the babies.
A short time later, through the doorway, she could see Max and Paul checking their weapons, preparing for the journey ahead.
David sat on the edge of the spare bed, one baby cradled in each arm.
Hannah’s eyes were closed, exhausted but peaceful.
Soon they would all be gone, then she and Friedrich would be left to face what she’d done.
‘Marie,’ Clara said quietly. ‘Would you sit with Hannah while I speak to Friedrich?’
Her friend squeezed her arm. ‘Of course.’ Then, softer: ‘He’ll understand, Clara. He loves you.’
‘I know.’ But love and understanding weren’t always the same thing.
She found Friedrich in their bedroom, staring out of the window. The city sprawled before them. He didn’t turn when she stepped inside, though she knew he’d heard her.
‘Friedrich.’
‘Don’t.’ His voice was rough. ‘Don’t apologise again.’
Clara moved to stand beside him, close but not touching. ‘I wasn’t going to apologise. I was going to thank you.’
Now he turned, his expression unreadable in the dim light from them. ‘Thank me? For what? For not turning you all over to the authorities? For not arresting my own wife?’
‘For being the man I married.’ Clara held his gaze. ‘For helping us.’
Friedrich let out a breath that was almost a laugh but held no humour. ‘I suspected you were planning something while I was away. I should have insisted you tell me. Before you put yourself in danger I can’t protect you from.’
‘I know, but this wasn’t the plan.’ She wrapped her arms around herself. ‘I wanted to tell you the other day, but the less you knew . . .’
‘The less I knew, the safer I was? Is that what you were going to say?’ His voice rose, and he checked himself, glancing back at the city.
When he continued, it was barely above a whisper.
‘Do you think I care about my safety when you’re out there risking everything?
Do you think I could live with myself if something happened to you? ’
‘I had to help her. I couldn’t do nothing.’
‘I know!’ The words burst from him with startling force. Friedrich pressed his palms to his eyes. ‘God help me, Clara, I know. And that’s what makes this so impossible. Because I love you for the very thing that’s going to get you killed.’
The words hung between them.
Clara reached for him, but he caught her hand, holding it tight between both of his.
‘You want to know something?’ His voice cracked.
‘Today I received a communiqué about Neuruppin. They’re looking for a midwife who helped a Jewish patient escape.
A midwife with a strange accent, possibly British.
’ His grip tightened. ‘They have witnesses, Clara. They’re building a case. ’
The floor seemed to tilt beneath her feet. ‘Against me?’
‘They don’t know it’s you yet. But, yes, a case against a midwife who is helping the Jewish women. The midwife they call the Angel of Life.’
‘How close are they?’
‘Close but not that close.’ He released her hand and turned back to the window.
‘For several weeks now, I’ve been working with others at the Bendlerblock.
Officers who still believe in honour. Who see what’s happening to our country and refuse to stand by.
’ He paused, and Clara could see him gathering himself.
‘We’re planning something. I can’t tell you what or when, but we’re going to act. Against Hitler. Against this regime.’
Clara’s breath caught in her throat. ‘You’re risking your life,’ she whispered.
‘We both are. But what I’m doing will take time.
You, on the other hand, are doing something now.
’ He finally looked at her again, and in his eyes she saw everything.
The love and terror, resignation and determination.
‘Right now, seeing as I know I cannot stop you from what you’re doing, we can do more together.
You with your network, helping people escape.
Me with access to intelligence, documents, patrol schedules.
Together, we can save more lives. But Clara.
’ He cupped her face in his hands, his touch achingly gentle.
‘You have to trust me. You have to let me in. No more secrets. No more protecting me from knowledge that might save your life.’ His thumb traced her cheekbone.
‘We’re in this together now, whether we chose it or not.
Your resistance. Mine. It’s all the same fight. ’
Clara felt tears slip down her face. ‘I’m so afraid.’
‘Good.’ His voice softened. ‘Fear keeps you careful. Fear keeps you alive.’ He pulled her against him, and Clara pressed her face into his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of soap and the wool of his uniform.
‘All right,’ she whispered. ‘Together, then.’
‘Together.’ Friedrich kissed her forehead, then her lips, a kiss that tasted of promises and grief and desperate hope. ‘But Clara, you have to promise me something.’
‘What?’
‘Promise me you’ll be more careful. That you’ll plan ahead, that you’ll let me help you. No more improvising, no more playing it by ear.’ His hands framed her face again, forcing her to meet his eyes. ‘I can’t lose you. I won’t survive it.’
‘You won’t lose me.’ Clara covered his hands with hers. ‘I promise. We’ll do this the right way. Carefully. Together.’
‘This ends one of two ways,’ he said. ‘Either we succeed in stopping Hitler, in ending this madness or we fail, and we pay the price. But I won’t sit by and do nothing. Not anymore. Not after tonight.’ His voice dropped. ‘Not after seeing what you’re willing to risk.’
Clara thought of Hannah in the spare room, of those two tiny babies born in secret, of David’s face when he first held his children. She thought of all the women she’d helped, all the lives saved in the darkness. And she thought of the cost if they failed, both of them arrested, tried, executed.
A knock at the bedroom door made them both turn. Max stood in the doorway, his expression neutral but his meaning clear: it was time.
‘Before you go, tell me what you need,’ Friedrich said. ‘What does your network need? Forged documents? Travel passes? Information about round-ups?’
Max raised his eyebrows. ‘All of it. But most of all we need safe houses. Places the authorities haven’t identified yet. And we need warnings when they’re planning raids.’
‘I can do that.’ Friedrich’s jaw set with determination. ‘There are officers in my unit I trust. We can use what we know to help people like Hannah escape.’
‘And if someone suspects? If your superiors start asking questions?’
‘Then I’ll handle it.’ He said it with such certainty that Clara almost believed it could be that simple.
They went through to the sitting room, Max picked up his rucksack, slinging it over his shoulder, and Paul held a small bundle of supplies for the babies. The twins were wrapped in blankets, barely visible in the crooks of their parents’ arms.
‘The route I marked is clear until oh-three hundred,’ Friedrich said to Max. ‘After that, the patrol schedule changes. You’ll need to be at the safe house by then.’
Max nodded. ‘We will be.’ He looked between Friedrich and Clara, and something shifted in his expression, something like respect, perhaps, or recognition. ‘Thank you. Both of you.’
‘Don’t thank us yet,’ Friedrich said. ‘Just get them out safely.’
David stepped forward, and Clara saw tears in his eyes. ‘I don’t have words,’ he said hoarsely. ‘What you’ve done for us . . . what you’ve risked.’
‘Keep them safe,’ Clara said gently. ‘Keep your family safe. That’s all the thanks we need.’
Hannah reached out and squeezed Clara’s hand, unable to speak, but her eyes said everything. Then Marie was helping her towards the door, and Paul was checking the hallway, and Max was ushering them out with quiet urgency.
Friedrich handed Max a folded paper. ‘Emergency contacts. If something goes wrong, if you need help use these. Tell them I sent you.’ He paused. ‘And if I’m arrested, if something happens to me, get Clara out. Promise me.’
‘Friedrich,’ Clara started, but Max cut her off.
‘You have my word.’ He met Friedrich’s eyes with understanding. Two men from opposite sides of a war, united by the same cause. Then he was gone, the door closing softly behind the group, and Clara and Friedrich were alone.
The apartment felt enormous in the silence.
Clara sank onto the sofa, suddenly exhausted. Friedrich sat beside her, pulling her against him, and they stayed there as the night deepened.
‘I’m scared,’ confessed Clara. ‘I’m afraid of what’s coming.’
‘So am I.’ His arms tightened around her. ‘But Clara . . . I’m more afraid of who we’d become if we did nothing.’
Outside, the city breathed in the darkness. God, she hoped Max would get Hannah and the babies to safety. What they’d done today couldn’t all be for nothing.
‘I love you,’ Clara whispered into the silence.
‘I love you,’ Friedrich answered. ‘Whatever comes, we face it together.’