Chapter 13
By the time Lizzie and Hannah arrived in the Charlottenburg district, they were exhausted. Lizzie had broken the news about Henry to her because she couldn’t bring herself to stall or lie to Hannah’s sweet, hopeful face.
Fortunately, the café was nearly empty, and no one paid attention to the tears spilling from Hannah’s eyes when she learnt her fiancé was reported missing in action over Stuttgart.
Lizzie had held her hand and comforted her, but the tears threatened to roll down her face too.
The situation was gut-wrenching. Lizzie had discussed when to tell her with Jack, and how it might affect their mission.
They agreed there was no good time to break the news, but at some point, it was only fair that she did.
Lizzie had been dreading the moment since London and was relieved to have finally completed the dismal task.
When they emerged from the café, red-eyed and with heavy hearts, they caught a tram to the neighbourhood where they planned to look for a room in a boarding house.
Hannah fell silent until they entered the Tiergarten, a vast urban park. ‘This is Charlottenburger Chaussee, the grand boulevard that cuts right through the park.’
Hannah’s voice was subdued and her actions robotic, as if she were going through the motions of making a commentary.
Lizzie thought how painful this must be for her.
Not only was she revisiting Berlin, where she had grown into a young woman and where everyone and everything she had loved had been ripped from her, now she must also process the news about Henry.
Lizzie looked out the tram window on her first journey through Berlin.
It was surreal to be in the heart of the Reich after years of plotting against the Nazis.
She hadn’t expected ever to be sent on a mission for the German section of the SOE, and in fact had barely heard of X Section until recently.
Her work in occupied France had consumed her life, and the reality of what she was doing was only just hitting her now they were here in Germany’s capital.
The SOE had shown her footage of the city to prepare her, but the films didn’t do it justice. Even in wartime, the boulevard was magnificent, and travelling through the parkland by tram was an awe-inspiring way to see the city.
Lizzie gazed in wonder at a tall golden statue of a winged goddess that towered over the park. ‘What does that symbolise?’
Hannah followed Lizzie’s eyes and gasped.
‘Oh my God! That’s Victoria, the Roman goddess of victory.
The statue was erected in honour of Prussian-German military prowess.
The Victory Column used to be by the Reichstag.
I heard Hitler ordered it moved a few years ago, but I didn’t expect this.
The boulevard is so much wider too. Everything looks bigger. ’
Hannah lapsed into silence again, and Lizzie imagined a riptide of emotion must be swirling through her.
When they reached their stop, they alighted with their cases and walked through the elegant tree-lined neighbourhood in search of a suitable boarding house.
It was as though war hadn’t come to this quiet suburb.
There were no bombed-out houses like in London, and no sandbags piled up outside the doors.
‘This looks promising,’ Lizzie called out as she read a sign outside an imposing four-storey house. ‘Let’s try here—it says they have a room available.’
A woman answered the door on the second knock. ‘Good morning. Are you here for the room?’
‘Yes, please,’ Lizzie said, smiling at the landlady. She had spoken German with Hannah since the moment they were reunited and had settled into the rhythm.
The landlady, who Lizzie estimated must be in her late-thirties, explained the payment terms and grabbed a key from behind a wooden desk. ‘I’ll show you the room. It’s the only one available.’
They followed her up the steep flight of stairs with their cases, and when they finally reached the top, panting slightly, the woman pushed the door open and stood aside for them to enter. She followed them in. ‘It’s quite a climb to the attic, but you get the best view.’
Lizzie crossed the spacious room towards a window in the eaves.
The city sprawled in the distance, and a palace dome which Lizzie recognised from the footage as Charlottenburg Palace dominated the grey sky.
Church spires gleamed above the rain-glistened rooftops, and the immaculate tree-lined streets stretched out below like a seductive memory of life before the war.
Hannah walked around the room, looking at the two narrow beds and the sparse wooden furniture. ‘Is breakfast included?’
The landlady nodded. ‘It’s served in the dining room at 7 a.m. Dinner is included too. I run a quiet house and expect the same from my lodgers. Some have been with me since I first opened, you know.’
‘When was that?’ Hannah asked, not missing an opportunity to gather information, even in her state of shock.
‘It was the summer of 1940 when I heard my husband would never come home,’ she said. ‘That’s when I knew I’d have to fend for myself and my daughter or we’d starve.’ She said it in a matter-of-fact way, as if she’d said it a thousand times. ‘The pension isn’t nearly enough to live on.’
‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ Lizzie said, fearing the subject might be too much for Hannah at that moment.
The landlady continued in her blunt, businesslike fashion. ‘You can have the room if you want it, as long as your documents are in order, and you pay weekly in advance. I don’t take criminals or suspicious characters here. And step out of line, and you’ll be out on the street. Understood?’
Hannah replied. ‘You won’t get any bother from us. We too are war widows, sisters-in-law, actually. We both lost our dear husbands. We’ve come to Berlin to make a new life, and just want to live in peace and keep ourselves to ourselves.’
The landlady seemed to like what she heard and invited them downstairs to check their documents. ‘You can leave your cases here and lock the door if you wish, although the other lodgers are all out at work. Talking of which, do you have work or how will you be paying your way?’
Lizzie was intrigued to know what sort of lodgers lived in a boarding house in the Berlin suburbs during wartime. If she and Hannah were anything to go by, they might meet some interesting characters.
‘Else is starting work at the Air Ministry once we have registered with the authorities, and I plan to make myself useful in some way, perhaps in charitable works.’
The landlady looked impressed and ran her hands down the front of her dress. ‘Good to hear. We all need to do our bit in these trying times. I wish I could afford to just do charitable work, but such is life.’
Lizzie didn’t comment. It was better that the landlady believed she was a woman of some means, so that she had more flexibility to build the courier route they needed to smuggle the weapons’ intelligence out of Germany. It wouldn’t do for her and Hannah to both be tied to a rigid work schedule.
Downstairs, the landlady introduced herself properly as Frau Fischer.
‘My daughter is at school, but she helps me run the house. She’s a good girl and will refresh your washbasin and empty the chamber pot every day.
There’s a shared bathroom for a weekly bath and for your toilet needs on the floor below. ’
Lizzie gazed around the sitting room and wondered what it felt like to be a widowed German woman with a child to support.
The landlady stashed the cash they gave her in a locked box and spelt out the house rules. ‘No visitors in your room; it’s quiet hours after 10 p.m., and you must keep a strict blackout, especially in the attic.’
‘Is there a bomb shelter nearby?’ Lizzie asked, remembering how attics were the first to get hit in the Blitz.
Frau Fischer tutted and dismissed her concern. ‘It’s in the cellar, but there’s no need to worry about that. We’re further inland than Cologne or Hamburg. The British don’t bother us much despite their big talk. Our brave Luftwaffe watches over us and keeps us safe.’
Lizzie didn’t trust herself to look at Hannah or comment any further to the landlady. She suspected the Allies would bomb Berlin to smithereens when the time was right, and this naive woman was living in a Nazi propaganda bubble.
Once she completed their registration, she brought them a cup of weak tea.
You look tired after your long journey, girls.
You will no doubt want to rest. Dinner is between 6 and 7 p.m. And don’t forget, you must register your arrival with the police within three days.
I’d do it as soon as possible, if I were you.
Then you can apply for ration cards. I will need your coupons each week. ’
In their room in the sky, they removed their coats, hats, and shoes and collapsed on their narrow beds. ‘I’m shattered,’ Hannah said. ‘I feel like I’ve been travelling for a week.’
‘It’s been quite a journey,’ Lizzie agreed, climbing under the thin bedcover. ‘I think I’ll shut my eyes for a few minutes.’
Hannah did the same, and it wasn’t long before they both fell into an exhausted slumber in the attic of the Berlin boarding house.
They had made it.