Clara’s hand hovered over a second box. A flush of heat crept up her neck as she glanced at the door. The clinic had begun tracking supplies more carefully in recent weeks and Frau Lange had mentioned a full inventory coming soon. Her fingers trembled slightly, not from fear of taking the medication, but from the realisation of how easily she was contemplating such an act.
‘I’ll replace it tomorrow,’ she whispered to herself, calculating how she could purchase an identical box at the Löwen-Apotheke on her way home. If the Jewish woman didn’t need them after all, she could simply return the borrowed box, with no one the wiser. And if she did need them, Clara swallowed hard, wasn’t a woman’s life worth more than strict adherence to inventory logs?
Before her conscience could argue further, Clara slipped the second box into her apron pocket. She arranged the remaining boxes to disguise the gap, closed the cabinet and gathered her legitimate supplies.
Clara assisted with the delivery of a baby that morning which was very straightforward with no complications. No matter how many births she attended, the moment a new baby entered the world was something sacred. The first cry, the warmth of new life in her hands, the mother’s breath catching and the look of wonderment in their eyes – it never failed to move her.
‘You did well this morning,’ commented Frau Lange as Clara left the new mother and baby once they were settled in their room.
‘Thank you,’ said Clara, pride sweeping through her at the compliment from her superior.
‘But it has meant you’ve missed your lunch break,’ said the older woman. ‘I suggest you take your break now and then go straight to your afternoon home visits. You have three to carry out.’
‘Yes, Frau Lange,’ said Clara, not believing her luck. She would have time between the first two ladies and Frau Müller to dash over to the Jewish lady and see how she was. She hoped to goodness the poor woman was all right.
‘Is something wrong?’ asked Frau Lange.
‘What?’
‘You’re frowning.’
‘Oh, sorry. I’m fine I was just considering which route to take,’ replied Clara quickly.
Frau Lange gave her a long look before instructing her to go straight home after seeing Frau Müller and she would see Clara in the morning.
In the end, Clara took a shorter break and arrived at her first home visit promptly. The appointments were not given a specific time, the patients just knew it was an afternoon visit.
It was a brief call to a woman who was very relaxed about everything. She didn’t need to stay at home for any medical reason but had chosen to have home visits due to having two young children. It was easier than bringing them with her to the clinic.
The second call of the afternoon was a little more involved. It was a first-time mother, whose husband had been posted to Poland, and she was particularly anxious about giving birth alone.
Clara spent a lot of time reassuring the young woman and talking her through everything that would happen and how she would be given the utmost care.
‘Do you have any family nearby? Your mother? Or a sister?’ Clara asked as she was writing up her notes.
‘My mother. She lives in Dresden.’
‘I can write a letter on behalf of the clinic, recommending that your mother be allowed to travel to Berlin and reside with you for the duration of your pregnancy and several months beyond, if not indefinitely,’ said Clara.
‘You could do that?’ The young woman’s voice was full of hope.
‘Yes. I will put forward the recommendation and ask Doktor Weber to sign it,’ said Clara. ‘The letter will then be sent to the local housing and residency office. It should be approved without any issue and then your mother will receive the necessary travel documents.’
‘Thank you. That is very much appreciated.’ Tears of gratitude shone in the woman’s eyes. ‘I know some people said I shouldn’t go to the clinic because there were foreign nurses there, but I’m glad I didn’t listen to them. I feel like you’re the first person to do something tangible about my fears.’
It lifted Clara’s spirits to think she had helped her patient. She knew if it were her, she’d want her mother there. Her heart contracted as she thought of her parents and her sisters. If only it was as easy as that for her to be reunited with them. Of course, that wasn’t possible anymore.
She and Friedrich had talked about it last year when the British embassy had recommended all British nationals return to Great Britain. She had, of course, refused to go. How could she? She wasn’t about to leave Friedrich without knowing when they would see each other again. But it didn’t mean she didn’t miss her family. Her sister Rose was working at the Queen Alexander Military Hospital in London and her other sister, Evie, the younger of the three, had been trying to break into photography. Clara realised she didn’t know what either of them were doing now. Had Evie been successful and was Rose still at the same hospital?
She really shouldn’t torture herself thinking about them. She had to hope that this war would be over before it had even really begun. Now, she had a woman who needed her help.
She took the tram across the city to the bridge where she’d agreed to meet Paul. She hoped she looked more relaxed than she felt and was relieved when she alighted from the tram and saw there were no checkpoints on the bridge.
As she crossed the bridge, she looked casually towards the other side of the street. She spotted Paul leaning against the corner, one foot up against the wall, hands in pockets and his cap pulled down. A newspaper was tucked under his left arm. He must have seen her as he switched the newspaper to his right hand and then without hesitation, turned and headed up the street.
Clara crossed the road and at a safe distance, followed Paul. She kept her head high and walked with purpose, to give the impression she knew where she was going, as her guide wove his way through the streets.
The apartment buildings with their ornate facades gradually gave way to narrower and more cramped streets. With every step she became increasingly paranoid that she was being followed and had to remind herself why she was doing this. The thought of a pregnant woman in need of her help spurred her on.
