“I don’t know. I believe Mrs. Murphy saw me put it in my bag. She said nothing to me, but she might have told him.”
Greta’s thoughts raced. “Do you have a safe place to hide it?” Her heart sank a bit when Daphne said she had an ideal place, because Greta would have liked to have taken charge of it herself. In rapid whispers, they agreed to say nothing of the carbon copy to anyone, not even Dr. Murphy, but to keep it hidden away until an opportunity to publish came along. If Daphne returned to England, she would take it with her; if her hiding place became compromised, she would give the copy to Greta.
Although the book was no closer to appearing on bookstore shelves, simply knowing that the manuscript existed raised Greta’s spirits. It was difficult keeping such an important secret from Adam, and that, coupled with her disappointment over the canceled publication and the loss of her job, had rendered her unusually tearful and moody. She had been feeling increasingly tired and out of sorts, easily nauseated and lightheaded. Mildred urged her to get out in the sunlight and eat more fresh vegetables and greens, but while walks through the Tiergarten with her attentive friend did make her feel better, the very thought of vegetables turned her stomach. On most days, all she could keep down was plain bread and yogurt.
It was early May before she realized she had been keeping another secret from Adam, and from herself.
A week passed, and then another, before she summoned up the courage to tell him. By then she had seen her doctor, who confirmed that she had not misinterpreted her symptoms. She had also resolved to have the child even if Adam wanted nothing to do with it. She was not a fool; she knew it would be difficult to raise a child on her own. She might have no choice but to return in shame to Frankfurt an der Oder, but after her parents got over their initial shock and distress, they would take her in, and they would love her child.
She summoned up her courage as she and Adam lay in bed together one glorious spring morning, a Sunday, with sunlight streaming through the open window and the white curtains stirring in a breeze fragrant with linden blossoms and freshly cut grass. “Don’t get up yet,” she told him, grasping his arm when he kissed her and climbed out of bed to go start the coffee, their usual routine when he stayed over. “You should be sitting down for this.”
He sank down on the edge of the bed, studying her warily. “So this is it. You’ve finally had enough. You’re leaving me.”
She laughed. “God, no.” Then she realized he was serious. “No, Adam. That’s the last thing I want.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m pregnant.”
He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. His expression was pained, disbelieving, which broke her heart a little. “Are you sure?” he managed to say after too long a silence.
“Yes, I’m sure. I wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”
“Of course you wouldn’t have,” he said, apologetic. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now than at first.” Because he had not thought to ask, there was an edge to her voice when she added, “The baby is due in January.”
“The baby,” he echoed, almost to himself. “Holy Christ, a baby.”
“Our baby,” she emphasized. “Yours and mine.”
“Greta—” He grimaced, took her hand and held it in both of his. “Let’s stop and think. Is it right to bring an innocent child into a world full of hate and violence?”
“There’s more to the world than hate and violence,” she said. “There’s also love, and friendship, and literature and music. And right or wrong, it’s happening.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
She slipped her hand from his grasp. “I am not getting rid of this child. I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing.”
“We need to be realistic,” he said steadily. “These are dangerous times. Friends are being snatched off the streets and thrown into concentration camps every day. The child would be utterly dependent upon you for years. What if something happened to you? What if you were arrested?”
“We would make arrangements for a legal guardian ahead of time, as all good parents should.” She climbed out of bed and threw on her dressing gown. “I’m thirty-four, and the Nazis might cling to power for years. If I wait until they’re gone and all is right with the world, it might be too late for me. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, because I’m having this baby. The only question is if it will be with you or without you.”
“Of course it will be with me.” He rose, came around to her side of the bed, and stood facing her, his hands on her shoulders. “Do you think I’d abandon you? I missed too much of Armin-Gerd’s childhood. I won’t make that mistake again.”
She rested her head on his chest, eyes welling up with tears, at a loss for words. A moment ago he was hinting that she should get an abortion. Was it really so ridiculous to think that he might walk out on her? “I don’t want to live apart after the child is born,” she said. He tensed for a moment, then stroked her hair away from her face and kissed the top of her head.
She was not sure what he meant by the wordless gesture, but a few days later, he told her that he believed it would be best for the child if they married.
“I think Gertrud would have something to say about that,” Greta said lightly, managing a smile.
“She’s deferred the inevitable long enough,” said Adam. “Wewilldivorce.”
At the end of May, Greta met Mildred for a walk through the Tiergarten and their usual discussion of political developments and resistance-circle activities. As a teacher, Mildred was outraged by the mayor of Berlin’s recent decree banning Jewish children from the public schools, and as a wife, she was distressed by the new employment regulations making membership in the Nazi Party all but mandatory for members of the civil service. Against every one of his scruples, Arvid had joined rather than lose his job.
“He had no choice,” Greta consoled her. “Not even the Nazis consider people in Arvid’s situation to be true believers. You’ve heard what is said about them—they’re like undercooked meat, Nazi brown on the outside and Communist red at the center. It won’t mean anything to people who truly know him.”
Mildred looked taken aback. “Adam didn’t tell you?”
