‘Thank you for coming,’ said Richard. ‘We didn’t know who else to ask. Nina, the woman who we would have called up, she was rehomed yesterday. Just like that. She didn’t know herself until they came knocking on her door. She had an hour’s notice, that was all.’
‘That’s terrible,’ said Clara. ‘Where did she go?’
‘We don’t know,’ said Annelise. ‘We were worried they would take us. They still might.’ She looked down at her child and softly ran her fingers over his head.
The giddy feeling of bringing a baby into the world was snuffed out at the notion. Clara felt sick at the thought.
‘We’re sorry we had to ask you,’ said David, ‘but we had no one else to turn to.’
‘Please don’t be sorry. I’m glad you did,’ said Clara. ‘It was an honour.’ She got to her feet. ‘I should go home. It’s getting late.’
‘Would you like me to escort you?’ asked David.
‘No. I’ll be fine. It’s safer you stay here,’ said Clara. She turned to Annelise. ‘I’ll try to come back the day after tomorrow. But if you are worried you must send for me again.’
Clara left the Bauers, holding onto the thought that they were a couple when she’d arrived and she was leaving them as a family. Despite the dangers, she was glad she had come.
When she arrived home, Friedrich was sitting in the living room on the sofa, his forearms resting on his knees with a glass of whiskey in his hand, the note and the midwifery book in front of him.
‘Friedrich?’ Clara could sense the tension in the air. She went over to him and sat beside him, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. She flinched as Friedrich recoiled from her.
He took a swig of his whiskey before placing the glass on the table. He picked up the handwritten note she had left him. ‘I have been worried sick about you,’ he said, his voice stiff with forced control. ‘I had no idea where you were.’ He tapped the book with his forefinger. ‘And then I saw this on the table.’
Clara had rarely witnessed Friedrich angry and in all their years together, he had never shown any anger towards her. Yes, they argued, but Friedrich was always so reasoned about everything. She didn’t know how to deal with an angry husband.
‘I’m sorry but I didn’t want to say too much,’ she ventured. His shoulders tensed. ‘A woman was in labour. There were complications. They didn’t have anyone else to ask.’ Her words rushed out to try to counter the anger building in her husband. ‘The baby was in distress. It could have died. They both could have. I had to go.’ She reached out again for him and this time he didn’t shy away.
Friedrich blew out a long breath. ‘Are they all right now?’
‘Yes. A healthy baby boy,’ replied Clara relieved Friedrich’s anger was short lived.
‘I fear I will be wasting my breath asking you, begging you even, not to do that again,’ he said.
‘It’s a promise I wouldn’t be able to keep,’ said Clara.
Friedrich’s hand reached for hers and their fingers entwined as he wrapped his other hand around her shoulders. He kissed the top of her head. ‘In that case I won’t ask.’
Chapter 6
The lunchtime news that Britain had declared war on Germany didn’t fill Clara with shock, it had been expected but she felt heartbroken as she listened to the official announcement. The two countries she held dear to her heart were at war. Her and Friedrich declared enemies through their nationality could not be further from the truth.
Clara rested her head against the window of their apartment, her hands clutched together at her chest. It was a physical pain. Even though they’d both known it was only time before war was declared, the actual reality of it was far more painful than she had imagined.
Friedrich came to stand behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. She reached her hand up to cover his. ‘I never imagined it would hurt so much,’ she said, trying to understand her own feelings as much as explain them to her husband. ‘I feel like I’m grieving.’
‘I wish I could take away your pain,’ said Friedrich.
‘Don’t you feel it too?’
‘Yes. I do.’ They stood there for a minute of two, silently observing the road below them. ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ said Friedrich.
‘A walk?’ Clara turned to look at her husband.
He nodded. ‘Yes. Before I have to go into work this afternoon. We need some fresh air. It is better than sitting indoors. We can go to the Café Lindenhof and have coffee.’
Clara wasn’t really in the mood for a walk, but she agreed all the same. Maybe for a few hours they could pretend it was a normal Sunday where they could enjoy the simple things in life like they often did. The walk to the café was a pleasant thirty-minute stroll through some of Berlin’s more upscale neighbourhoods, passing elegant buildings and shops. Perhaps for just a couple of hours they could suspend reality.
They walked in a comfortable silence along the banks of the river, Clara’s hand tucked into the crook of Friedrich’s arm. They passed several other couples and families who must have had the same idea. Clara wondered if they too were as heartbroken about the prospect of war as she was or were they proud and enthusiastic that their country was defending itself? Did they all believe the propaganda that was being peddled?
