Chapter 38
For the rest of the journey to Lille, there was an awkward silence.
The two other nurses didn’t say anything to Clara, seemingly taking the lead from Alma.
Now and again, when Clara looked up or across the other side of the truck, she caught Alma looking at her.
No, make that studying her. Trying to work out what Clara’s real reason for being on the journey was.
With every mile, tension built. She’d come too far to fail now. All she had to do was get to Lille and then quietly slip away tonight and meet up with Rose. It was the thought of seeing her sister again that kept her spirits high. It had been nearly three years since they had seen one another.
She wondered how much Rose might have changed.
Would she even recognise her? Surely, she would.
Rose, with her hair the colour of mahogany, her pale blue eyes and the dash of freckles across her nose.
But more importantly, had working in Lille changed Rose?
She let out a sigh. Of course, Rose could be having the same kind of doubts about Clara.
Would she think Clara was too German now?
Would she be wary of her sister being married to a German officer? The idea was painful.
More pressing though was what Alma thought of her, or rather thoughts of Frida Hoffmann.
Clara needed to keep her wits about her.
There was no point trying to behave differently now, it would arouse suspicion if she suddenly became chatty and friendly.
No, she had to maintain the same persona she had the moment she had climbed up on that truck.
She was a slightly aloof administration worker with the health department.
‘Finally,’ said Alma as the truck rumbled through the hospital gates.
Clara sat up, pulse quickening, scanning exits. She needed to memorise every detail. Where the exits were, which buildings offered cover, how the guards were positioned. Later tonight, when darkness fell, this unfamiliar terrain could mean the difference between escape and capture.
Banners snapped in the afternoon breeze against the brick facade.
Upper windows gaped like dead eyes, while scattered medical equipment still littered the entrance steps where the hospital had been hastily abandoned during the British retreat.
German sentries stood rigid at the main gates, scrutinising the papers of everyone who entered and left.
Military ambulances and supply trucks moved in an endless stream through grounds that had so recently sheltered wounded Allied soldiers.
The truck was directed to the west of the building where other vehicles waited in line, their cargo being systematically unloaded under watchful eyes.
‘You four, report to the main entrance,’ barked the guard as he climbed down from the vehicle.
‘This should be interesting,’ Alma said with a cold smile as they climbed down from the vehicle.
‘What do you mean?’ asked one of the nurses.
‘We shall see if the hospital is actually expecting our Frida, won’t we?’ Alma’s eyes never left Clara’s face. ‘Tell me, who exactly are you supposed to report to?’
‘No one,’ Clara replied, forcing herself to meet Alma’s calculating stare. ‘No one here, anyway.’
‘How curious.’ Alma moved ahead, positioning herself between Clara and any possible escape route, with the two other nurses flanking her like prison guards.
‘You really should tell them about your impressive medical skills. Quite the accomplished nurse, our Frida. So very hands-on for administration worker.’
Clara’s heart rocked inside her. Alma knew.
The predatory gleam in her eyes made that terrifyingly clear.
But what could Clara do now? There was no way to slip away quietly with guards everywhere, but if she walked into the hospital and faced the administration while Alma voiced her suspicions .
. . Clara’s mouth went dry. She would be arrested on the spot and Friedrich’s sacrifice would be for nothing.
There was nothing for it. She would just have to bluff her way through this.
The hospital administrator, a thin man with wire-rimmed glasses, looked up from his desk as the group approached. ‘Ah, the nursing reinforcements. I’m Oberarzt Rault. We have one ward fully functioning and now you’re here we will be opening a further ward. You’ll be assigned to—’
‘Excuse me,’ Clara interrupted crisply, stepping forwards before Alma could speak.
‘I believe there’s some confusion. I’m Frida Hoffmann from the Reich Health Office, Medical Supply Division.
’ She pulled out her papers with practised efficiency.
‘I’m here to conduct a comprehensive assessment of supply requirements, not to work as nursing staff. ’
Rault’s eyebrows rose as he examined her documentation. ‘We weren’t informed of an inspection.’
‘I would suggest that communications have been compromised,’ said Clara with icy efficiency.
‘Telegraph lines are down across half the occupied territories. However, if you feel compelled to verify my authorisation.’ She gestured dismissively at the telephone on his desk.
‘There’s a contact number on my papers. Though I should warn you, Berlin takes a very dim view of administrators who question Reich Health Office credentials without cause.
’ Her voice dropped to a more dangerous tone.
‘Tell me, Herr Rault, do you have some objection to cooperation with official health inspectors? Because that would be most unfortunate to report back to my superiors.’
The implied threat hung in the air as Rault’s face paled slightly, clearly weighing the risks of challenging someone who might be legitimate versus the consequences of obstructing a genuine Reich official.
‘No, of course not, Fr?ulein.’
‘Frau Hoffmann,’ Clara corrected sharply. ‘My husband is serving with the Infantry Regiment Fifteen in the current offensive. I assume you can provide me with appropriate quarters for the duration of my stay. I’ll need access to all medical facilities, supply inventories and requisition records.’
Rault scrambled to his feet. ‘Yes. Absolutely. We can arrange a private room in the officers’ quarters. How long will your assessment take?’
‘No more than two or three days,’ Clara replied. ‘I’ll begin first thing in the morning. Tonight, I need to review my preliminary notes.’
‘Of course. I’ll have someone show you to your room immediately.’ Rault turned to an orderly. ‘Take Frau Hoffmann to room twelve in Block C.’ He turned back to Clara. ‘An evening meal will be available in the canteen at six thirty.’
‘Thank you,’ said Clara with a curt nod. She glanced at Alma and the other nurses before following the orderly.
After being shown to her room, Clara was now alone for the first time that day.
She sat on the narrow bed, staring out the window at the hospital grounds where German vehicles moved with military precision.
Somewhere in this very city, Rose might be watching the same sunset, breathing the same air thick with the smell of diesel and occupation.
Was her sister crouched in some basement hideout or was she walking these same corridors in a stolen uniform, hiding in plain sight as Clara was now doing?
Two sisters playing the same deadly game of deception in a city now occupied by the aggressors.
Clara lay back on the bed, the springs of the mattress apparent beneath her.
She felt exhausted from the travelling, from the worrying, from the emotional goodbye with Friedrich and from just being pregnant.
All she had to do was to get through the evening meal and then shut herself up here in the room for a few hours before she could leave.
She had decided the best way to leave was not by sneaking out, but by leaving right under the noses of the guards and anyone who might see her.
There was nothing to stop her venturing into the town if she so wished.
Once she was out of the grounds of the hospital she needed to find her way to an old cemetery in the south of Lille and then wait at a specific gravestone.
Friedrich had given her all the details when he had met her last night, making her recite them several times to ensure she remembered.
Oh, how she ached for him to be here now, to feel his strong, protective arm around her shoulders, to have him guide her to safety with that quiet confidence that had always made her believe the impossible to be possible.
He had promised her everything would be all right, had looked into her eyes with such conviction when he’d said those words.
But he hadn’t promised he’d be back, just that he would do whatever it took to find her again.
For the first time in their marriage, she found herself doubting him, not because she didn’t trust his love, or his determination but because the odds were so stacked against them.
All too soon it was time for the evening meal and Clara made her way down to the canteen. She saw the two nurses who had been on the truck with her but no sign of Alma. Her pulse picked up a fraction.
‘Mind if I join you?’ she asked casually.
‘Feel free,’ said one of them.
‘No Alma?’ Clara said picking up her cutlery. There was a pause. Clara looked up at the two nurses who exchanged an uncomfortable look with each other. Clara stomach churned. ‘Is she unwell?’
‘She’s just speaking with the administrator,’ said one of the nurses.
Clara nodded and she smiled at the nurse.
Inside, her heart was thumping fast. She couldn’t ask why Alma was speaking to the administrator, that would make her look worried and that was the last thing she wanted to appear.
She had to think quickly. ‘How are your rooms?’ she asked, forcing the conversation in a different direction.
‘We are in a dormitory with two other nurses.’ She pulled a face. ‘You’re lucky having a room to yourself.’
‘Only for a couple of nights though, then I have to go all the way back to Berlin in the back of a truck again.’ Clara gave a theatrical sigh.
The entrance of a group of German soldiers broke the conversation as the two nurses nudged one another and looked appraisingly at the men, then dissolved into whispered speculation about which one was the most handsome.
Clara forced herself to finish enough of her meal to seem normal before excusing herself. She needed to escape the hospital before Alma could cause any trouble. Every instinct screamed that she shouldn’t trust the woman.
Back in her room, Clara surveyed her meagre belongings.
She couldn’t take the small case she’d brought.
If she carried luggage through the streets, she’d look like exactly what she was – someone fleeing.
Instead, she grabbed only her handbag, leaving everything else untouched.
If someone discovered her empty room, the presence of her case might buy precious time, suggesting she intended to return.
Clara made her way cautiously down the main staircase, her heart pounding as she approached the ground floor. Just as she reached the final step, she froze. There was Alma at the reception desk, leaning forwards, urgently speaking to the night orderly.
‘I need to speak with Herr Rault immediately,’ Alma was saying, her voice tight with urgency. ‘It’s about one of the new arrivals. I believe we have an imposter among us.’
Clara pressed herself against the wall, hidden in the shadows of the staircase.
Alma continued. ‘The woman claiming to be from the Reich Health Office, there’s something very wrong with her story. The way she handled the medical emergency, her medical knowledge. She’s not who she says she is.’
The orderly looked uncertain. ‘Herr Rault has retired for the evening.’
‘This cannot wait until the morning!’ Alma snapped. ‘Wake him. Tell him it’s urgent.’
Clara didn’t wait to hear any more. Moving as quietly as possible, she backed up the stairs, her legs trembling with each step.
At the first landing, she spotted a service staircase marked ‘Staff Only’ and slipped through the door.
The narrow stairs were dimly lit and smelled of disinfectant, but they led her down a rear corridor.
She forced herself to walk at a normal pace, even though every instinct screamed at her to run.
Through the windows, she could see orderlies and medical staff moving between buildings, their routine evening duties providing perfect cover for her.
Clara joined a small group heading towards the main gates.
She kept her head down and matched their casual pace, inserting herself in the middle of the pack.
Just as they approached the guard post, she glanced behind her and saw Alma standing on the front steps of the main entrance, scanning the courtyard frantically.
Their eyes met for one perilous second. Clara’s heart was racing so fast, she was sure she’d have a heart attack.
She was moved along with the group of orderlies.
She turned her gaze away, trying to look inconspicuous as the guards barely gave the group a second glance.
As she turned in the opposite direction to the orderlies, she stole another look back at Alma who was now joined by the night porter.
Clara quickened her pace, desperate to reach the next corner. Once she did, she finally allowed herself to break into a run. Her feet pounded against the pavement as she fled into the maze of Lille’s darkened streets.