Chapter Seven

Ava's fingers were trembling so much when she returned to the office three days later, that for the first time since she'd taken her position at the ministry, she made three errors in a row in her typing. Taking the paper from the typewriter, she scrunched it into a ball, hiding it on her lap, and took a clean sheet of paper to feed back into the machine. If she didn't manage to shake off her nerves, someone was going to notice.

‘That's not like you,' Greta whispered, glancing over at her. ‘What's wrong?'

Ava knew her face had turned a dark shade of red, but she also knew that she had to come up with the right answer to disguise her nerves. ‘I think I might have caught a cold when I went home.' She did a little cough for effect and gently patted her chest. ‘It's not helping my concentration.'

‘Well, take your time, you're better to be slow than making mistakes.'

Ava nodded, taking a deep breath and cursing how nervous she was. She knew that no one could read her thoughts, but still she was acting as if at any moment she was going to be caught for treason, despite the fact she hadn't even done anything. The fact she hadn't seen her father to talk to since she'd returned wasn't helping either, because she had no clue whether she was supposed to be doing anything yet. Would he tell her when there was something she should look for, or was she supposed to commit to memory everything that crossed her desk? And her conversation with Hanna kept playing in her mind, the way her sister had looked at her when she'd spoken, the pain in her words twisting through Ava's body as she'd absorbed them. I couldn't even make eye contact with Eliana Goldman, and yet my sister was out there risking her life for a stranger.

Her sister had confessed to being responsible for helping countless Jewish children, using her cover as a nurse to smuggle them out of the country, and yet here she was, nervous about simply looking at papers in an office. Until today, she would have likely stepped around a child with a yellow star and called for the authorities, and yet Hanna's compassion had encouraged her to behave in a way that Ava hadn't even considered. Until now.

Her hands began to shake again, and she was just about to rise and take a moment's break when Herr Frowein strode into the room, holding a clutch of pink papers. Ava slowly sank back into her seat, sitting to attention as he stood in front of their desks. She'd never seen pink slips of paper before, and she wondered what he could possibly be holding.

‘These,' he said, holding up the papers in one hand, ‘are to be referred to as the daily truths. It is of the utmost importance that you prioritise these when they are put on your desk, for immediate distribution once you have typed them.'

Ava found herself nodding along with the other secretaries, glancing down when a few of the papers were put on her desk. She was surprised how many there were, and wondered who had made the notes.

‘Your job is to type and expand the numbers, to ensure all Germans understand the truth of what is happening to our soldiers and to our good German women.'

Expand? Her eyes ran over the first few lines on the page at the top of her pile, to better understand what he was talking about.

‘Fr?ulein Müller,' Herr Frowein said, addressing her as he gestured for her to rise. ‘Please hold up your paper and tell me how many German women have been raped by Russian soldiers this week.'

She stood. Looking from him to the paper and back again. The report clearly said twenty, and she wasn't certain what he expected of her.

Ava pointed to the number as she spoke. ‘Twenty women.'

He shook his head, looking as if he might strike her for reciting to him what was on the paper in front of her. ‘Germans must understand the brutality of Russian soldiers and their behaviour, the way they are treating our women,' he barked. ‘I ask you again, how many German women were raped, Fr?ulein Müller?'

‘Forty women,' she said this time, raising her voice as it threatened to waver. ‘Forty women were raped.'

Herr Frowein nodded. ‘Forty women is correct. We do not want to underestimate what is happening, the people must know the truth. They must understand the monsters our people are faced with – why winning this war is so important to us as a nation.'

He moved to Greta beside her, who'd quickly realised what was expected of them all, and as each number on the papers in their hands was read out, Ava wondered what the true figure was. Had it already been inflated before it was noted on the pink paper? And if they were to make such gross exaggerations, then what else that passed her desk wasn't actually the truth? Why had she never thought to question what she typed before?

She found herself thinking of the Goldmans, of the way her father had looked at them, at the way they'd looked back at her, their fear palpable. She'd swallowed every untruth that had been fed to her, as had most of those around her, and yet her own family had seen the truth with their own eyes. Ava knew she'd feel like a fool for some time to come, and that it also wouldn't be easy to stop seeing things the same way she'd seen them for so many years now – to not believe the lies.

I have been one of the cowards, but I am not going to be a coward any longer. That was what she'd told herself that morning, when she'd crept up to the attic before their maid had returned, taking an armful of books, along with a new notebook she'd received for Christmas and her favourite pen for Eliana. She remembered how much she'd liked to write when they'd been at school together, and it was all she could think to give her, other than the cookies they'd made on Christmas Eve. Although it hadn't been lost on her that they were formed in the shape of a swastika, so she wouldn't have been surprised if they'd spat on them rather than eating them. All she'd wanted to do was throw open the window to let air into the stuffy attic space, to let sunlight stream in, even if it was only a small ray of light, but instead she'd left them in the dark, like birds in a gilded cage, and she hadn't been able to stop thinking of them since.

‘Fr?ulein Müller?' Her name, said loudly as if for a second time, made her jump. She saw that Herr Frowein was walking back towards her, his boots thudding with each step.

Ava broke out in a sweat as she slowly looked up at him, waiting for him to ask her to go with him, to say something, anything, that told her he knew what she had agreed to do. Why had he singled her out? Why was he back at her desk again? Had he said something to her that she hadn't heard, because she'd been lost in a daydream?

‘I trust you had a pleasant time at home with your family?'

She swallowed. ‘Yes, I certainly did. I was very fortunate to spend time with them.' He knows. The way he is looking at me, it's like he's been trained to sniff out deceit like a Nazi dog.

‘Your father said it was well worth the drive, even if he did only have the one evening with you all in the end. Family is everything to a man.'

She nodded politely, unsure what to say so deciding not to say anything at all. This was why her father was able to help the resistance, why she would be able to continue on his work. Because as far as anyone around them could tell, they were the perfect German family, dedicated to the cause. Her nerves began to ease then, as she began to understand why her father could be so calm in his deceit. My father is highly ranked in the SS, my fiancé is a dedicated SS man, my mother is the model German wife. No one had any reason to doubt their allegiance, not for a moment. If someone dared to suggest otherwise, it would be more likely that they would be hanged for treason than her father be questioned.

‘I have documents from Dr Goebbels for you to type as soon as you've completed your daily truths,' he said. ‘I would like you to prepare them and then deliver them directly to my office.'

‘Yes, Herr Frowein,' Ava said. ‘I shall make them my priority.'

He nodded. ‘Please collect them from me personally once you're done here.'

Ava reached for her handbag and took out a handkerchief, pressing it to her forehead and upper lip when he'd gone. Her heart rate had slowed, but she was certain she was still shining, even though her nerves were beginning to abate.

‘Ava, you might need to go home. Your colour isn't right today.'

‘Thank you for your concern, Greta,' Ava said, straightening her shoulders and placing her hands on the typewriter keys. ‘But I am perfectly fine. I shall rest tonight once my work is done. Heil Hitler!'

Greta looked hurt, her eyes like saucers, not used to such a rebuke from her usually pleasant and softly spoken colleague.

‘Heil Hitler,' Greta repeated, before turning her back slightly to Ava.

It wasn't in her nature to be anything other than nice, but right now, she had to wear the mask of the perfect German. Not being caught was all that mattered now – she had a job to do.

Ava had only just finished with her pink slips of paper when her father came to the door of the office. She stood and quietly excused herself.

‘Ava,' he said. ‘I'm sorry I didn't get to see you yesterday.'

‘We missed you,' she said honestly. ‘Hopefully we can all have dinner again soon? Mama said she will be joining us at the apartment this week.'

‘Your mother has actually just been asked to host a very important dinner party in a few weeks' time,' he said. ‘Many important ministers and their wives will be in attendance.'

Ava found it almost impossible to mask her surprise. ‘What an honour for her to be hostess. Will Hanna be assisting her, or should I—'

‘She would very much like you both to return for it,' he said. ‘Also, I have other important news. News that I know will be even more exciting to you than a party.'

She raised her eyebrows. ‘News?'

‘Heinrich has been granted leave. I personally signed the papers.'

Ava's heart began to hammer in her chest. ‘He will be here? In Berlin?' She swallowed. ‘Soon?'

‘Yes, my dear. Your fiancé will be home within the month. He will have a short period of leave, and then he is to be stationed somewhere closer to home on a special assignment. I'm certain he will tell you more about it when he's here.'

Her father's hand closed over her shoulder, and she shut her eyes momentarily, seeing Heinrich's face swimming before her in her mind. A week ago, even a few days ago, such news would have set her heart racing for an entirely different reason, but now, everything had been turned upside down. Because she knew, in her heart, what someone like Heinrich would do if he found out what was happening. He would tell her to cast her family aside and denounce them as Jew-loving traitors, and she had little doubt that he'd treat her any differently if he thought she had involvement in the situation. Any allegations that Heinrich made would be taken seriously, of that she was certain, but it didn't stop her heart from fluttering at the thought of being in his arms again.

‘Thank you for telling me,' she said. ‘It gives me time to prepare for his arrival. I'll be certain to make it a wonderful homecoming for him.'

Her father gave her a long look then turned away, leaving her standing in the open doorway. She took a moment to gather herself, before going to Herr Frowein's office and collecting the notes he'd asked her to type.

‘These are to be returned to me immediately when you've finished.'

‘Of course,' she said, taking her time on the walk back to her desk, her mind a jumble of thoughts as she wrestled with her feelings.

Ava set her typewriter, checked her paper and opened the file beside her. She usually glanced over whatever she was given before typing, to ensure she had a grasp of the work and to check for any errors that she would have to change, and this one was no different. In fact, it seemed even more important to do so, especially given her nerves and that she'd been personally requested to type it.

The Final Solution.The words meant nothing to her until she read on, and then her stomach dropped.

The reports from guards at Auschwitz have already proven the success of the recently completed chambers.

Recommend a tour at your earliest convenience, to see the simplicity of the design.

Approximately four thousand or more Jews can be disposed of each day.

Request for more deliveries of gas to ensure ongoing productivity.

Ava quickly shut the folder, coughing as she tried to disguise her dry-retching, as she realised what she was being asked to transcribe.

‘I've told her to go home, but she insists she isn't unwell,' she heard Greta mutter to one of the other secretaries.

‘I'm fine,' Ava managed, still coughing as she imagined the Goldmans there, imagined what their fate would have been. Imagined the fate of all the Jewish families she'd once known.

Would she have even understood what she'd read a few days ago? A week ago? A year ago? Would she have understood what the word Auschwitz meant, and been able to comprehend what was happening there? If she'd had any doubts about her decision, about what she'd agreed to do, or what her family had tried to tell her, she certainly didn't now.

She dabbed at her face, as she'd done only moments earlier, to remove the sheen from it. She was doing a good job of appearing to be unwell. So much for thinking she was ready to mask her deceit – she was going to have to learn not to react, no matter how horrible her work was.

‘Ava, I think you should—'

But before Greta had time to finish her sentence, the Goebbels children unexpectedly arrived, and Ava was on her feet with the others to greet them. Magda was as polished and beautiful as ever, but today she only had two of the children with her – the two youngest, who waved to all the secretaries.

‘Your husband is still in his meeting, Frau Goebbels,' one of the secretaries said. ‘Would you like me to make you a coffee while you wait, or fetch something for the children?'

Magda nodded her thanks, before turning to all the women and beginning to make small talk, at the same time as Hedwig and Heidrun came running over to Ava. She wished she had sweets for them, because they were always so polite, and today, without their older siblings, they seemed even more confident.

‘Can you teach us how to use it?' Hedwig said of her typewriter, smiling shyly.

‘Can I pretend I'm a secretary?' Heidrun asked.

‘Of course!' Ava said brightly, careful to cover the file she'd been working on and deciding to slip it into one of her drawers, in case they were to knock it over. ‘Shall I show you how to feed the paper into it?'

‘Yes!' they both squealed, earning them a sharp rebuke from their mother.

But Ava didn't mind; she was only too happy to be distracted from her work for a moment. No one would dare reprimand her for taking time to play with the children, and it at least gave her time to think about something her sister had said, gave her a moment to breathe and calm herself down.

What was it she said, about all children being equal?Now that she knew what was truly happening, that their father was a monster due to what he was orchestrating, it didn't mean that the children were monsters. They were yet to grow and understand the world. They were simply living their childhood, and because of that she couldn't be anything other than kind to them.

And as Heidrun climbed on to her knee and proudly began to tap at the keys, tears pricked Ava's eyes, for she couldn't comprehend how these children could be treated with such reverence, and yet elsewhere children were being killed, seemingly without a second thought.

The children are sent with their mother. We find they go more willingly than when we separate them.

Those were words from the Final Solution file that she'd just read and would never forget, and even thinking them made it almost impossible to breathe, with bile rising inside of her every time she closed her eyes and imagined their screams.

‘Leave Ava to do her work now,' Magda said, as if she'd only just noticed that her children were climbing all over her. ‘Your papa won't like it if you stop everyone from working.'

‘But Mama, it's so fun!' Heidrun said, bouncing on Ava's knee as she tapped on the keys, her little fingers tiny against the machine.

‘It's always such a pleasure to see them. I don't mind at all,' Ava said.

Magda Goebbels placed a hand on the desk, smiling warmly at her. ‘I'm very much looking forward to visiting your country house soon, Ava. Your mother is always such a wonderful hostess.'

Ava was pleased her father had warned her – if not, she'd have wondered what on earth Magda was talking about. But even the mention of her home made her pulse race.

‘I'm certain my mother's already busy preparing what will be served. It's such an honour for her to host you all.'

‘Come on, children. It was lovely to see you, Ava. I'll be certain to tell your mother how kind you were to the girls.'

Ava smiled, forcing herself to hold it, to appear as if her entire world wasn't falling apart, as if she wasn't thinking about the fact that so many party members, high-ranking party members, would be at her home in just a few weeks' time, only two floors beneath a Jewish family who would be sworn to silence for the entire evening.

Ava's heart thundered in her chest, her resolve strengthening by the minute. She would protect the Goldmans' secret, their very existence, as fiercely as if they were her own family. Now that she knew the truth, she could be a coward no longer.

Even if it meant risking her own life for the cause.