Chapter Ten

Hanna walked down the stairs, her eyes downcast as her fingers danced over the handrail. They ached to grip it tightly, but she wouldn't let herself; she had a part to play, after all, and Ava was only a few steps behind her. When she did look up, she saw her mother, poised and elegant, the picture of the perfect wife, her blonde hair swept up off her neck, showing off the beautiful diamond necklace Hanna's father had given her for their twentieth wedding anniversary the year before the war began. Then she saw her father, who was smiling up at her as he stood with a few of his colleagues, all dressed in perfectly starched uniforms, their gazes fixed on her.

She knew what all the men were thinking; they would like her for themselves or for their sons. None of the guests here tonight would even know that she was a widow, not a maid. She was thankful that they would be less interested in leering at Ava, knowing that she was already promised to one of their own.

‘Here she is,' her father said, beaming as he came forward and took her arm, kissing her cheek. ‘I trust you all remember my eldest daughter, Hanna?'

She smiled and used her free hand to smooth imaginary wrinkles from her dress, as she heard Ava being greeted by her mother and the women surrounding her. But it took everything to keep her smile in place as she saw the full glasses of wine and smelled the lavish array of food being cooked for the party. The table would be set as if for a feast, the bellies of all the men around her full to brimming, when the families she treated at the hospital were so hungry that their ribs were protruding, their ration books doing little to sustain them. So many were having to cope with so little, yet this glittering set of the Nazi elite hadn't been subject to so much as coffee rations.

‘Fr?ulein Müller, what a pleasure to see you again,' one of the men said, extending his hand to her. She politely extended hers in reply, trying not to cringe when he pressed a wet kiss to it, holding on for longer than was necessary, his moustache itching her skin. ‘Tell me, is there a lucky husband-to-be waiting in the wings yet? Or could I interest you in meeting my son when he's home on leave?'

She glanced at her father, who only smiled at her. ‘I've been so busy with my work at the hospital that I haven't had the opportunity to meet a young man, unfortunately,' she said. ‘But I'm very much looking forward to all our victorious men coming home in the near future.'

‘Well, between us, we have some very eligible sons who are to be posted closer to home soon,' said one of the other men, nudging her father with his elbow. ‘We would be only too pleased to introduce you.'

‘Darling, come with me,' her mother said as she appeared, sweeping her into her embrace and flashing her most dazzling smile at the men. If Hanna attracted the men's interest, her mother positively captured them. She seemed to know just how to move, how to use her eyes, to distract a man from almost everything, without doing anything that could be seen as improper. ‘No more talk of weddings or husbands, we already have our Ava to be married as soon as the war is over, and dear Hanna here is very busy with her nursing. There is plenty of time for marriage, she's still young, after all.'

There was a grumble between the men, immediately arguing over how unbelievable it was that women were having to fill so many men's jobs. But she'd heard it all before; a woman's place was at home, tending to her husband and producing babies. Sex was supposed to fulfil a purpose only, it was not to be for pleasure, but simply to keep populating their great country with endless children. Only, the old men ogling her tonight certainly seemed to have pleasure in mind. She wished she could scream at them that she wasn't some unmarried maiden but a widow who was still grieving her husband. She doubted they'd even care if they knew; all they saw was a young woman who fulfilled their little list of ideals, which made her perfect breeding stock.

‘You look beautiful, as always,' her mother whispered to her, before taking her by the hand to introduce her to the women she'd been talking to. ‘Just keep smiling and remember to breathe, that's all you have to do to charm them. Make them think you're pleased to see them.'

‘Hanna, I hear you're a nurse,' one of the wives said, taking a sip of her wine. ‘Tell us, how bad are the injuries from the bombs?'

‘I heard that they are targeting children and factories where they know mothers are working!' said another.

Hanna looked at the wide-eyed women forming a circle around her, and she wondered what they truly knew about the war. They were like pretty birds kept in a cage, with no idea what happened outside in the world. She looked over at Ava, who was smiling politely.

‘It is true, many of the injured are women and children,' Hanna said. ‘I spend most of my time on the paediatric ward, caring for those children who need us most, and sometimes I'm deployed with an ambulance driver to provide triage care at the scene of a bombing or fire.'

The women all gasped, a collective intake of breath that made the men take notice and look over at them.

‘What is being shared that's so dramatic over there?' one of them called out.

‘I must apologise, I was shocking these lovely ladies with tales of injuries,' Hanna said sweetly, taking a small step back and looping her hand through Ava's arm when she came closer. ‘From the recent air raids.'

Hanna almost lost her breath then, as Goebbels himself appeared. He must have been using the lavatory when she'd come downstairs, because she certainly hadn't seen him. A hot flush came over her body, and her mother took a tight hold of her hand, beckoning Zelda to bring him a glass of wine.

‘Tell away, Fr?ulein Müller,' he said. ‘Or do you still go by your married name of Frau Wittelsbach?'

She gulped, but her father came to her rescue, seeing her distress. ‘Joseph, I think it's important that everyone, even our womenfolk, understand how barbaric our enemy is, don't you think? I have always encouraged Hanna to share the truth of the horrific injuries she's seeing, and I know our new daily truths will help our womenfolk understand our enemy all the more, wouldn't you say?'

‘I agree wholeheartedly,' Goebbels replied with a smile. ‘Ivan is a vicious enemy, ape-like in intelligence but brutal in his fight, but the English are cunning. They don't see our vision as clearly as our friends in Poland or Italy, so they are presenting more of a challenge.'

The room was silent when he spoke. Goebbels was second only to Hitler, and a man to be both revered and feared, so no one would dare speak over him.

‘What do you think, Fr?ulein Müller?'

Hanna dipped her head slightly, taking a slow breath before meeting his gaze. It's as if he knows what he took from me, but he can't possibly. There is no way he could know, there is no way he could understand my loss. But questioning her surname before had made her feel as if he were taunting her.

‘I think it was the right thing for many families to move from the city, because you are right about how cunning they are,' she said. ‘We've lost too many good Germans to their bombs, and it's imperative we protect the children.' Her voice caught on the last word as Goebbels held her gaze. ‘They are our future, after all, which means nothing is more important than them.'

‘Well said.' Goebbels nodded and gave her a brief smile, before turning away.

Hanna looked to her father then, expecting him to say something, but when she saw the sweat that had broken out on his brow, the way his hand had moved to his chest, she knew she had to act before one of the men standing near him noticed that something was wrong.

‘Papa,' she said, rushing to his side and taking his arm. ‘I'm so sorry to interrupt, but I forgot that I—'

‘Leave your father, girl,' one of the men said, chuckling to himself as he gestured for her to move out of the way. ‘Unless Hitler himself needs your—'

‘Sir, I do apologise, but it's regarding the brandy and cigars for the men after dinner,' she whispered demurely, giving him a quick smile. ‘I wouldn't want you gentlemen to be disappointed.'

That brought about another round of laughter, but this time not at her expense, thankfully, and she clutched her father's arm tightly as she walked him down the hall and to his office.

When they reached it, she shut the door behind them and helped him to the leather sofa. His face was pale and clammy now, and she loosened his top button and tie. ‘You need to see a doctor,' she whispered. ‘I don't have enough experience in—'

‘No doctor,' he said as he shut his eyes, one hand over his chest. ‘You know I can't.'

Hanna felt his pulse, staring down at him with concern, but she froze when she heard the door click behind them, her breath catching in her throat.

‘Ava!' she gasped, letting go of her father's wrist. ‘You gave me a fright.'

‘He's sick, isn't he?' Ava said, blinking away tears. ‘I knew something was wrong, I knew that it wasn't just a cold when he was unwell at work last week, and I can see that he is not a well man now.'

Hanna caught her bottom lip in her teeth, meeting Ava's gaze before slowly nodding.

‘Am I the last in our family to hear this news, too?'

She was spared from having to answer when their father spoke, but she did put on some music, knowing how paranoid her father was about their conversations.

‘It's important that no one knows, that we keep this between these four walls, between the members of our family,' he said, in a voice so low and raspy that it forced Ava to come closer to hear him. ‘Any sign of serious illness or incapacity will be seen as weakness, and that's not something I'm prepared to give them, not yet.'

‘We've been trying to hide it,' Hanna whispered, ‘but he won't see a doctor and I think it's his heart.'

Hanna saw the way Ava's grip on her wine glass tightened, the tears that slipped down her cheeks. ‘We shall give him a moment to catch his breath, give the morphine time to work. I was able to take some from the hospital, and a small amount seems to help without impeding his ability to function.'

‘He's going back out there?' Ava asked.

‘He doesn't exactly have a choice.'

Ava wiped her cheeks and lifted her chin. ‘Tell me what I can do to help, then. Should I go back out there or stay here?'

‘Go and charm them all, make them forget that Papa is missing,' Hanna said, reaching for her hand. ‘We'll join you shortly, I promise. Just give me time to treat the pain and get some colour back into his face.'

‘I can do that. I see these men every day in the office. I know exactly how to behave around them.'

Ava bent down and kissed their father's cheek as Hanna retrieved the morphine she had hidden in his desk drawer, and within minutes she'd straightened her father's tie and helped him to his feet, walking arm in arm with him as he rejoined the gathered men.

‘I'm going to see if there's anything I can do in the kitchen,' Hanna said, letting go of her father's arm and giving the men what she hoped was her most captivating smile. ‘Please excuse me.'

‘Karl, what took you so long?' one of the men asked, as he clapped her father on the back.

Hanna held her breath, seeing the pain etched on her father's face as he coughed, his hand rising to his chest, but Ava's quick laughter captured the men's attention, and Hanna had never been so grateful for her sister. She glanced at her father, seeing that Ava's distraction had given him time to right himself. Ava hadn't been lying when she'd said she could handle their guests.

As Hanna walked away, she heard murmurs about her beauty from the women gathered, about what a waste it was that she hadn't had children yet, that she was having to work such long hours. But when she reached the door leading to the kitchen, she turned, not to look at the women talking about her, but at Goebbels. She had a feeling he was watching her, that his eyes had followed her, but when she saw him he had his back to her, speaking to the group of men who seemed enraptured by whatever tale he was telling. It's my mind playing tricks on me, he doesn't know at all. He doesn't know what he took from me, and there's no way he can know about my father.

Hanna turned and kept walking, finding Zelda in the kitchen, surrounded by food. It was all she could do not to collapse right there, her legs wobbling from her earlier subterfuge.

‘Hanna, are you feeling all right?' Zelda asked, stopping what she was doing.

Hanna nodded. ‘So long as you don't tell me to go back out there, I'll be fine. I just need a moment away from it all.' She closed her eyes for a second, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter.

‘Hanna—'

‘I'm fine, or at least I will be. Let me prepare something for you to take home tonight,' she said, opening her eyes and fixing her smile again, her moment already over. ‘This is far too much food for one dinner party, and I dare say that no one out there will be interested in taking leftovers home with them.'

Zelda moved around the kitchen and looked into Hanna's eyes, taking her hand for a moment. They had an unspoken understanding between them, both having loved and lost during the war.

‘Take your time, it's nice to have some company in the kitchen.'

‘Thank you for understanding,' she said, squeezing Zelda's hand.

They both wiped their eyes and Hanna surveyed the feast once more. ‘I shall start putting everything on the table while you finish here. This is a meal fit for a king.' But it wasn't just the food she had to prepare – if she were to sit at the table, she was to be charming and demure, to model what an excellent daughter her father had raised, which was always the best way to elevate one's status within the party. Which also meant she was going to have to pretend to be interested in at least one of the sons who'd been mentioned to her, for she knew it wouldn't take long before the subject of courtship or marriage was brought up again.

Thankfully, the women present were busy talking about their own children over dinner, and Hanna found herself listening intently to Magda Goebbels telling them all about how one of her daughters had recently joined the Jungm?delbund, and how gorgeous she looked in her little uniform. It only made Hanna's smile harder to hold, because it brought back memories of when she was first accepted into her local group, and the humiliating exercise of having to take off her clothes and lie very still while an old male Nazi doctor inspected her. All she remembered being told that day was to stay very still when she tried to squirm, and then eventually she was told that she was a very special girl. At that time, she hadn't known what they were trying to tell her; it was only later that she realised they were referring to her as being the very best of breeding stock. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed, healthy-looking girls were always the ones that left the doctor's room with sweet treats in their pockets as their reward.

Hanna forced her memories from her mind and smiled along with the other women, trying ever so hard to swallow her mouthful of food instead of spitting it out on to the table in disgust.

Once the evening was over, and she'd stood beside her mother and father and bade everyone goodnight, Hanna felt as if she could collapse.

‘Great show tonight,' her mother whispered, kicking off her shoes and massaging her feet. ‘Please tell me I won't have to host another glittering evening for a few months now though, Karl?'

‘That, my love, is a promise I cannot make.'

Hanna watched as her father pressed a kiss to her mother's forehead as he passed. She knew he was struggling – both with his health and his dedication to the cause – and evenings like this were his worst nightmare as much as they were hers.

‘You're feeling all right now?' her mother asked him.

‘I'm fine. Nothing to worry about, not with Hanna looking after me.'

Her mother sighed, but didn't stop Hanna's father from walking away, heading straight to his office.

‘Did you make certain that Zelda had food to take home?' Her mother's attention was on her now.

Hanna nodded. ‘I did. She had plenty.'

‘Good.' Her mother sighed. ‘Ava, could you prepare the leftovers to take upstairs?'

Hanna and her mother walked around the house as Ava went into the kitchen, checking each door and double-checking the drapes were pulled tight, before carefully putting together plates for the Goldmans. They'd become a good team, and Hanna had seen more and more over the past months how similar they were. Her mother was also the only person she could talk to about her loss, about how much she struggled at times, which had brought them even closer.

All three women made their way upstairs, and Hanna set the plates on the ground so she could pull down the attic stairs. Soon the light from one of the oil lamps shone down, and Hanna called up to the family.

‘You can come down and stretch your legs now,' she said. ‘Everyone has gone.'

Eliana appeared first, helping her mother down after her, followed by David and then his father. They all blinked at her, their eyes adjusting to the light in the house. She'd told them not to make a sound or have so much as a lamp going from the moment the first guest arrived, so she knew it must have been a very long, very dark evening for them up until then.

‘We have beef, some roast goose, potatoes, carrots and fresh bread,' Hanna said, surprised when Ava turned and walked away, but deciding to let her go. ‘Oh, and some chocolates.'

‘This looks amazing,' Eliana said, but Hanna noticed she was looking at Ava's retreating figure.

‘I'm only sorry you had to wait so long for it,' Hanna said brightly. ‘I can tell you it tastes excellent.'

The family had become much quieter recently, and although Hanna hadn't shared her worries with her own family yet, she was certain her mother would have noticed, too. Hanna also understood – the Goldmans been cooped up like chickens for so long, and she couldn't imagine how they were coming to terms with their new life being so small. Not to mention they were probably worried about Ava having discovered them.

But they had a life, and that was what she had to keep reminding herself when she began to fret about them. It wasn't a full life, but so long as they were safe for now, they might one day have a full life again. She would work on Ava.

‘Come on, let's stretch our legs before we have dinner,' David instructed his family. ‘We need to move as much as we can so our muscles don't waste away.'

Eliana stepped aside as David and her parents walked past, and Hanna turned to her, sensing she wanted to say something.

‘Are we still safe?' Eliana asked.

‘Of course. Why would you ask such a thing? You are as safe as you were yesterday, and the week before that.'

Eliana reached for her hands. ‘I mean now that Ava knows. Do you trust her?'

‘Yes,' Hanna said, holding her hands in return. ‘I do trust her. If I did not? I would have moved you somewhere immediately, I would never knowingly put you in harm's way. She's just struggling, that's all, and I imagine most of it is guilt.'

She watched as Eliana went to say something else, opening her mouth, before a loud knocking sounded out downstairs. Hanna froze, turning to her mother. The impatient knock sounded out on the timber again.

‘Quickly,' her mother cried, as the Goldmans ran back to the attic stairs again, picking up their plates and sending some of the food flying.

Hanna ran past her mother and down the main stairs to answer the door, knowing that the longer it took them to answer, the worse the situation could be. Had her father fallen asleep? Ava appeared wide-eyed at the top of the stairs, already changed into her nightgown, her hair loose about her shoulders.

‘Papa!' Hanna called as she ran down the last two steps. ‘Papa, someone is here!'

Her father appeared and strode ahead of her, flinging the door wide as she hovered behind, expecting the worst. But it was one of the officers they had hosted, his cheeks still ruddy from the alcohol he'd consumed.

‘Back so soon?' her father said with a laugh. ‘If you'd wanted another brandy, all you had to do was ask.'

‘My wife left her scarf here,' the man said, walking straight on into the house and clapping her father on the back. ‘But another brandy would have been an excellent idea.'

‘I shall find it for you, just a moment,' Hanna said quickly, frantically looking around the room for it before he happened to march off to find it himself. Within seconds she spied a pale pink silk scarf and collected it to give him, just as a thud sounded out from upstairs.

She imagined she visibly paled at the noise, her hand trembling as she held out the scarf. ‘I must go up and check on Mama,' she said, deciding not to hide her alarm. ‘That sounded as if she might have fallen. I certainly hope she didn't have too much to drink tonight.'

That made both men chuckle, and Hanna dashed up the stairs to the sound of them joking about women not being able to hold their drink, hoping her quick thinking had sounded plausible, and not wanting to look back downstairs to make sure she'd fooled their guest. But as she neared the landing at the top of the stairs she paused, watching as Ava bent to collect an errant bread roll that must have rolled there as the Goldmans went back into hiding, tucking it behind her back. And she was only thankful that she hadn't had to explain why a bread roll had fallen to the SS officer standing at the foot of the stairs.

‘Sorry to scare you, darling!' her mother called out in a theatrical voice. ‘I tripped in the bathroom!'

Her mother's voice was loud enough that it would reach the men downstairs, and Hanna breathed a sigh of relief. They'd had two near misses in one evening; how much longer could their luck possibly hold?