Chapter 21
The priest at Hildegard’s church was a friendly sort, and he welcomed Lizzie with enthusiasm when she introduced herself and asked about volunteering at the orphanage.
After a brief interview where she supplied him with her war widow story and said she needed to make herself useful to overcome her grief, he said they were desperate for more good people, and he was grateful to Hildegard for sending her.
They walked to the convent, and he explained the importance of their work.
‘Mother Superior is a dedicated soul, and she and the sisters do all they can in the circumstances, but the number of orphaned and displaced children has grown so much during the war that they can barely house them. Mother Clara has her regular duties as head of the convent to attend to, and is rushed off her feet, so I’m certain she will welcome you. ’
They threaded through the residential streets in central Charlottenburg, which was a neat, middle-class neighbourhood.
It was a combination of apartment buildings and institutions, and as the chatty priest told her about the Franciscan sisters, Lizzie studied her surroundings.
She knew the Order was revered as one of service and renowned for helping the poor and vulnerable, so she wasn’t surprised the nuns were sheltering needy children during wartime.
Lizzie’s motivation to volunteer was to strengthen her cover as a good German woman doing charitable work and give her a plausible reason to move around the city during the day so that Frau Fischer, and indeed the sinister Herr Vogel, wouldn’t suspect her activities.
It sounded like a worthy cause, even if she would be aiding the enemy.
It wasn’t the children’s fault that the Nazis desired to dominate the world and didn’t mind how many of their own paid the price. Her brief stay in Berlin was already showing her that the Allies weren’t the only victims of this heinous war.
The convent wasn’t far, and the priest promised to introduce her, but then he would hurry back to the church for the next service. ‘It’s a medium-sized convent, as you see, and the orphanage is attached to it, which is convenient.’
He knocked, and the old door creaked open after a few minutes.
A nun escorted them through the halls of the tranquil, dark interior of the building to the mother superior’s office.
The air was cool on Lizzie’s face, and she gazed at the crucifixes and religious prints on the plain white walls.
It was like stepping into a secret sanctuary, secluded from the outside world.
Despite the temperature, a warm feeling settled over Lizzie, and for the first time since she arrived in Berlin, she felt at peace.
It seemed like a good omen, and she hoped volunteering would prove to be a good choice.
It might genuinely be good for her to take her mind off the constant stress of her undercover life.
The mother superior wore a dark brown habit and rose from the table strewn with paperwork.
She greeted them with a welcoming smile, her wise eyes twinkling against her white coif.
After a brief introduction, the priest bid them good day and excused himself, leaving Lizzie sitting on a hard wooden chair at the mother superior’s table.
Her eyes strayed briefly to a colourful painting of the Virgin Mary.
The décor was in sharp relief from the usual swastika banners and pictures of Hitler everywhere, and gave her a renewed sense that she had entered another world.
The mother superior beckoned Lizzie to follow her. ‘Come, Frau Weber, let us sit outside whilst it’s fine and enjoy some fresh air.’
Lizzie followed her out of the room, and into a pretty courtyard lined with flower borders and shrubbery. ‘What a lovely place,’ Lizzie said, gazing around the yard and small garden. ‘The children must love spending time out here.’
‘We are indeed blessed to have such a wonderful space.’
The smell of soup wafted up Lizzie’s nose and made her stomach rumble, which the mother superior heard. ‘You must join us for lunch, my dear, which will be soon. We rise and eat early in the convent.’
Despite knowing she was at the convent for her cover, Lizzie found herself drawn to the homely setting, and the mother superior’s tone had a calming effect on her. It was reassuring to meet people who clearly had an agenda other than that of Nazi Germany.
As they sat on a bench in the sheltered courtyard, the breeze rustled the yellow wallflowers, and Lizzie looked around, taking in the chapel and the other clusters of buildings off the courtyard. ‘It’s like a little town of your own,’ she said, and the mother superior smiled.
‘That’s a good way of describing it. We strive to keep a sense of calm and safety in here for the children especially, and leave the evil of the world at the door.’
Lizzie wondered to what extent the convent resisted the evil outside the door.
That would be something she would be interested in exploring further, but for now Lizzie knew she must stay quiet on the matter.
It only took one careless word to the wrong person, and she would be arrested, which was why she’d risked searching Herr Vogel’s room.
Since then, she had avoided him but monitored his comings and goings.
There was something suspicious about him, even though she found nothing incriminating, and she had warned Hannah to be extra vigilant when he was near.
‘That’s the orphanage building over there,’ the mother superior said, pointing to the opposite side of the courtyard. ‘The children are in morning classes right now, but I can take you in for a quick tour if you have time.’
Lizzie nodded. ‘I’d love that, thank you.’
They crossed the courtyard and entered the orphanage. There was a light buzz of conversation, and children of a range of ages sat in circles on rugs, their legs crossed as they listened to their teacher and responded when appropriate.
Lizzie felt many pairs of eyes swivel to examine her as she approached.
‘They are very well-behaved,’ Lizzie whispered.
The mother superior smiled wryly. ‘Hmm, some more than others. This volunteer teacher is popular and knows how to keep them engaged, so fortunately you are seeing them at their best, but please don’t expect them to be like this all the time.
They have suffered terrible misfortune and witnessed great tragedy in their young lives. ’
‘I understand,’ Lizzie said, moved beyond words.
The teacher welcomed them, and the mother superior introduced Lizzie as Frau Weber and said she was a new volunteer.
‘Good morning, Mother Clara. Good morning, Frau Weber,’ they chanted, their sweet piping voices echoing around the room.
The children’s eager faces tore at Lizzie’s emotions, and she asked, ‘When may I start?’
‘I’m pleased you are keen,’ the mother superior said, her kind eyes twinkling again. ‘Is tomorrow morning too soon?’
‘Not at all,’ Lizzie said, realising she was genuinely keen to see more of these little children and to see how she might ease their sadness.
When the bell rang for lunch, Lizzie listened to the mother superior’s directions and followed the line of children filing into the orphanage dining hall with its long tables and benches.
It was simple but welcoming, and after they all said grace, some older children served them a meal of soup and bread.
Two nuns supervised as the children ate, and Lizzie noticed some children sneaking curious glances at her and then looking away when she met their eyes.
One little girl, who must have been about six or seven years of age, with brown eyes and hair and rosy cheeks, kept studying her and then averting her gaze.
Lizzie asked a nun who joined her at the table towards the end of the meal who the little girl was.
‘That’s Liesel. She is a sweet little thing.’
‘What happened to her parents?’ Lizzie asked, her voice muted.
The nun lowered her voice even further. ‘We’re uncertain, but we believe her father was killed at the Front, and her mother and sister died of typhus. Poor little love was left all alone in the world, and a friend of the convent brought her to us last year.’
Lizzie’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked away so the girl wouldn’t see.
It must be painful enough for her without strangers coming in and looking at her with such pity.
Not for the first time since the war started, Lizzie realised how fortunate she and her siblings were to have had such a gentle childhood, untouched by the harsh realities so many faced in life.
The animated hum of the children’s chatter when they had finished their meal was a reassuring sound, and Lizzie took comfort in the fact that children found a way to be children, no matter the circumstances.
Their nature was resilient, and it was soothing to see them so well cared for at the convent by these obviously devoted nuns.
As the little girl shifted her small legs off the bench and jumped to the stone floor, she stole a glance at Lizzie once more.
Lizzie smiled, and the girl’s face broke into a heartwarming grin.
Walking back to her lodgings, it began to drizzle, and Lizzie pulled her raincoat collar up and placed her scarf over her head.
Despite the grey sky and the chill of the afternoon, renewed optimism buoyed her steps, and she looked forward to getting to know more about the inquisitive little girl the following day.
Outside the attic door, Lizzie’s warm feelings ebbed away as she stooped to retrieve the fallen, dark thread she had placed strategically at the top of the door. It was standard spycraft, and she or Hannah did it whenever they were the last to leave the room.
An intruder had been in the attic whilst she was visiting the convent.