Chapter Twenty-Eight Gertrude
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Gertrude
Less than twenty-four hours until the Oceanus is torpedoed
I strolled the quiet deck, unmindful of the chilling winds. Tightening my shawl, I gazed up at the clear night sky. The cool air felt good, a welcome break from the heat in Port of Spain. Sleep was becoming impossible.
The baby kicked and moved often, and each time, I remembered Alfred and our last, furious night together.
It was after the party I’d worked so hard to host and the one Sigrid had wanted an invitation to.
When I spotted Sigrid at the party, dressed in blue silk and flirting with a German colonel, I’d thought the plan might work.
I quietly slipped away to my room and was on the verge of unpacking the maid’s uniform I’d wear once I slipped out of the house with the extra crews.
I’d thought about the river and the boat Sigrid had said would be waiting for me. I prayed I could sail out of Vienna and disappear. But Alfred had come into my room. He was agitated, wine on his breath, his gaze dark and dangerous. I’d seen this look before and knew what would follow.
What happened next was a blur of violence and pain.
I lost consciousness, and when I finally woke, the room was shrouded in shadows.
I was alone, and when I stood, I was unsteady on my feet.
But I dressed in the dark maid’s uniform, my hands trembling as I fastened the white buttons.
I grabbed a knife I’d stolen from the kitchen days ago and wedged open my door lock.
He’d kill me if I left. Or he’d eventually murder me if I stayed.
Footsteps jolted me back to the present.
I tensed, drawing in on myself. A lighter flicked, and then the acrid smell of smoke drifted toward me on the breeze.
I turned away from the shadowed person. I resented having to leave the fresh air, but until I reached New York City, I needed to be cautious.
“Frau Gruber, does my smoking bother you?”
The sound of my name was jarring. I looked toward the glow of the cigarette tip and searched the shadows. I recognized the man. Sigrid’s lover. William.
“My name is Werner.” I deliberately softened my accent, molding the vowels so they weren’t so sharp. “It is late.”
“A woman in your condition must be careful,” he said, facing me. “Children are so precious.”
I didn’t speak.
He stared at the glowing tip of his cigarette. “How far along are you, Frau Gruber, if you don’t mind me asking?”
His question felt oddly invasive. And again, I couldn’t speak.
His gaze roamed over my rounded belly. “I would say sooner rather than later.”
Smoke swirled around his head. “We haven’t been formally introduced, but I remember you from the September party you and your husband hosted. Thank you again for the invitation.”
My heart skipped for a second as I mustered a lie. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sigrid knows you very well. She has connections all over the city. Which enabled her to sell her books to your great-uncle.”
How long had Sigrid and William been together? I stood silent. He was toying with me. Sigrid had told him about me, or maybe he’d always known?
“Alfred would never have found your tiny bookshop if I hadn’t told him about it.
” When I didn’t respond, he added, “German and Austrian officers are a very efficient group of men, though some have rather harsh methods. They don’t tolerate resistance or disloyalty from their soldiers or their women. ”
Panic tightened harder, like Alfred’s fingers around my neck. William was enjoying my fear, just as Alfred had.
“I found your husband a calculating bastard, but he could be very charming.”
I met his gaze but remained silent. I didn’t remember him from the party. So much had happened that night, and I barely recalled the hundreds of lost faces.
“When you vanished after the party, the poor man was beside himself. He’ll move heaven and earth to find you.”
Heat warmed my face.
“That night at the party, you played the piano. Many of the officers liked watching you. Many wondered aloud what you could do with those delicate hands.”
I wasn’t so naive that I hadn’t heard such whispered comments. “This isn’t a proper conversation.”
“I’m sorry.” He drew on the end of his cigarette and allowed the smoke to trickle out his mouth and nose. “I shouldn’t be so bold with Alfred’s wife. He would skin me alive.”
“My husband died in the war. I’ve never been to Vienna. I’m not who you think I am.”
“You’re exactly who I think you are. You call yourself Gertrude now, but we both know your real name is Naida.”
Naida. She was weak and always afraid. I’d left Naida behind in Vienna. “I must go.”
He blocked my path. “Where are you going, Gertrude? We’re trapped on this ship until New York. There’s nowhere you can run that I cannot find you.”
“Leave me alone.”
“Your husband wants you back. He’ll especially want the child.”
His deep voice amplified Sigrid’s earlier threat. I could get away from her, but I wasn’t so sure I could escape William.
Tears jammed my throat. I’d heard tales of murders as I’d moved from port to port. I had prayed for the lost souls, including my own. Now I implored the ocean to save me.
“Go on. Run. But Sigrid and I will be waiting for you on the dock. It won’t take long to ship you back to Vienna.”
I hurried my awkward frame across the deck and headed through the portal.
Unshed tears rose, quickly filling my eyes.
But I refused to let one spill. I kept my chin up and put one foot in front of the other until I’d reached my room.
I locked the door. My hand over my mouth, I sank down on my bunk.
The past I’d been running from was determined to ensnare me again.
Heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway. The person paused outside my door. A knuckle wrapped against the door three times. I sat still, barely breathing. Finally, the person moved on, only to enter room 112.
I rose and crossed to my bag, then pulled out the kitchen knife I’d carried since Vienna.
Many times, I’d nearly tossed it into a river or the ocean, but the waters always rose as if to warn me I needed to keep it.
When I was in Lisbon, I’d visited a blacksmith in a small shop on a darkened alley.
I’d paid well to have it sharpened so that it could slice through a single sheet of paper.
Seven months of running had changed something inside me. I hid out of necessity but not fear. I was not Naida. I had escaped Alfred, Europe, and Port of Spain. And soon I’d be in New York.
If my past was destined to follow me, I wouldn’t accept it lightly. I would die fighting now.
I would remain free.
And this child would never be sent back to Alfred.