‘Very well, thank you,’ said Clara, relief washing over her.
‘And Friedrich? Is he keeping well? I expect he’s busy as ever.’
‘He’s very well, too,’ replied Clara, silently praying he wouldn’t ask any more details about where exactly Friedrich was at that moment.
Arnold’s gaze flicked between Clara and his colleague. ‘Is everything all right, Fuchs?’ he asked.
The policeman Clara now knew was Fuchs grunted and released his hold on the document. ‘Yes. Everything is fine.Danke, Frau Bergmann. I look forward to seeing you again.’
Goose bumps pricked Clara’s skin and her stomach churned at the repulsive thought. ‘Danke,’ she muttered, taking the documents and pushing them safely into her handbag.
Arnold had moved around to the front of the desk and held the door open for her, before following her out onto the street. ‘Come at eight o’clock next week,’ he told her.
Clara nodded. ‘Eight o’clock,’ she repeated, hoping that would mean Herr Arnold would be there himself.
‘I will look forward to seeing you.’ This time the phrase instilled reassurance rather than fear.
However, it didn’t negate the fear that Fuchs might turn up at her apartment one day unannounced and very much unwelcome.
It was busy at the clinic that morning which was good as it kept her mind occupied. The home visits that afternoon were straightforward, especially so as she didn’t have to squeeze in any clandestine visits to the Jewish district of Berlin. She hadn’t heard from the mother she saw the previous day, so she assumed everything was all right, thank goodness.
Her house calls took her to three different women that afternoon, with Ursula being her last patient of the day. It was a quarter to six by the time she got there.
‘Oh, I was beginning to worry about you,’ said Ursula as she opened the door for Clara to enter. ‘Have you had a busy day? You look very tired? Would you like a coffee?’
The kind words from a woman she barely knew warmed Clara’s heart. Just having a friend to notice her tiredness and offer to make her a drink was a small but significant act of friendship. However, she had to remind herself that she was first and foremost a midwife and there to look after Ursula, not the other way around.
‘It has been a busy day, indeed,’ said Clara, ensuring she sounded uplifting rather than worn out. ‘I can make coffee for you. You’re supposed to be resting but first, I’d like to examine you.’
‘You’re so kind, Clara.’
Another gesture of friendship, calling Clara by her first name. People were still very formal in Germany, even when acquaintances were quite familiar with each other. Clara missed the easy way she would have spoken with her friends back in England and appreciated the tiny but not insignificant moment.
She followed Ursula into the living room, where once again she made herself comfortable on the chaise so Clara could carry out her examination.
She was relieved to see that Ursula and the baby were indeed in good health. ‘Everything is fine,’ she reassured Ursula. ‘Now, let me make that coffee. And I’ll make you some stew too.’
‘I really don’t like imposing on you,’ said Ursula.
‘It’s not an imposition. You should rest for a while. You should really be taking naps in the afternoon.’
Kaiser trotted into the living room and hopped up on the chaise, spinning around several times before burying himself in the blanket on Ursula’s lap. She gave a laugh. ‘I’m going to take that as a sign that even Kaiser thinks I need to rest.’ She smiled up at Clara. ‘Thank you. You’re an angel.’
The comment reminded Clara of what the Jewish woman had called her and immediately it brought back into sharp focus one of her reasons for being there. ‘I’ll pull the door,’ she said. ‘I’ll wake you up once the meal is ready.’
When she went back in a few minutes later with the hot drink, Ursula was sound asleep. At that moment the front door opened, and she heard Herr Müller call out. Kaiser immediately hopped off the chaise and trotted out to greet his owner. Clara hurriedly closed the door to the sitting room.
‘Good evening, Herr Müller,’ she said, trying to sound calm when inside her heart was racing. This might be her chance to look at the papers. ‘Frau Müller is resting. She’s fine just a little tired.’
‘Oh, I won’t disturb her,’ said Müller. He looked towards the back of the house and sniffed the air. ‘Is that dinner I smell?’
‘Yes. I’m preparing a stew for you,’ said Clara. ‘It should be ready in about thirty minutes.’
‘That is very kind of you. I’m sure it goes above your duties though.’
‘I’m more than happy to help.’
Müller moved down the hallway and into the study, stepping out a few moments later without his briefcase. ‘I shall take Kaiser for his walk now.’
