Gretchen grasped Elsa’s arm. ‘Not a word in front of Klaus.’
Elsa frowned. ‘Klaus would not report us. I know he is still loyal to Hitler, but he is Grandfather’s friend.’
‘Friend? Pah! Who do you think reported your grandfather for not displaying a Nazi banner outside his house?’
Elsa recoiled. ‘That can’t be true. He wouldn’t do that.’
‘It is! I bet he’s heard we have started giving shelter to refugees and has come here today to find out where our sympathies lie.’
Elsa heard the ring of truth in her mother’s words and fell silent.
‘Besides, he has made it clear that he wants to fight.’ She jerked her chin towards the door of the room where Klaus sat eating their food. ‘Well, let him fight. We are leaving.’ Gretchen released Elsa’s arm and began to wring her hands as she paced. ‘I have some jewellery. There’s my wedding ring, my mother’s brooch... a few other trinkets.’
Elsa watched her mother walking back and forth. ‘You have no trinkets, Mother, you have treasured heirlooms.’
‘They are worthless to me if my daughters are raped and murdered in their beds. Staying alive is more important.’ Her mother jerked her head towards the ceiling. ‘That family barely escaped with their lives. One of the women... It is too awful.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I can no longer keep denying what is happening, Elsa. Germany is losing the war and the Russians are going to makeuspay.’
‘What about some dessert, Gretchen, my dear?’ her grandfather called from the other room.
Her mother rolled her eyes. ‘He’s warning us Klaus is wondering where we are.’ She shouted back, ‘There is no dessert tonight. We are washing up.’ She began to take the pots to the sink. ‘Leave the dishes to me and pack a bag.’
Elsa reluctantly nodded, then hesitated. ‘Shall I pack a bag for Grandfather?’
Her mother’s gaze dropped to the plates she was carrying. ‘He’s not coming,’ she mumbled.
Elsa frowned and walked towards her. ‘Why not?’
‘You said yourself that he can’t walk very far without the need to sit down. He would never make it even if he wanted to come.’
‘Have you told him?’
Her mother scrubbed the dishes furiously in the sink. ‘He was the one who suggested it.’
‘Then you should have told him we won’t leave him.’
‘Don’t be petulant,’ Gretchen snapped. ‘You weren’t here.’ Her body suddenly sagged against the sink and Elsa rushed to support her. ‘I’m sorry, Elsa. I shouldn’t take it out on you.’
Elsa wrapped her in her arms. ‘It’s all right. I understand.’
‘He won’t leave, you see.’ Her mother’s voice was barely a whisper. ‘He is afraid he will slow us down. He says he’ll die fighting. The old fool thinks he can shoot them with the old rifle in the attic.’ She eased herself away from her daughter’s embrace and sniffed loudly, dabbing her face with the edge of her apron. ‘Sorry. I’m being silly. It’s the guilt of leaving him behind.’ She looked up, her eyes glistening. ‘I have to think of Frieda. You can take care of yourself, Elsa, but Frieda is young and like Otto — she’s a dreamer and no match for the enemy.’
Elsa had never witnessed her mother so distressed. All her life she had been so capable and strong-minded. She was the boss of the family, even when their father had been alive. The weight of responsibility was now too much, Elsa could see.
‘Then you must go. Don’t worry about Grandfather, I will stay to persuade him to leave too. We will follow on later.’
‘Do you think you can change his mind?’
Elsa began drying the plates stacked by the sink. ‘I think I have as good a chance as anyone else,’ she replied confidently. ‘I will persuade someone to take him in their cart.’ She met Gretchen’s doubtful gaze with her brightest smile. Her mother reached for her hand and covered it with her own. Elsa stared at the weathered hand.
‘I love you, Elsa. Don’t wait too long. If you can’t change his mind, you must leave him. I could not bear the loss of a second child.’
‘It won’t take me long. We will follow within the week.’
Her mother smiled sadly. They both knew that her show of confidence was a lie.
Chapter Four
January 1945, Stalag XXA
