‘Yes.’
‘Twenty minutes. No more.’
Clara nodded. She reached for the door handle, but her hand was shaking.
Paul touched her arm. ‘You can do this. I’ll be with you.’
She looked at him. At Max. Both of them were risking everything. She took a breath and opened the door.
The cold air hit her face. Paul climbed out and from the rear of the vehicle he retrieved a wheelchair, expertly flicking it open as if he’d done it a hundred times before.
‘Ready? Be calm. This is a normal medical transportation of a patient,’ he said as he stood beside her.
Clara clutched the folder with the false documents in her hand. If a young man like Paul could be so calm, then she could too. Hannah and her unborn babies depended on her. ‘Let’s go,’ she said and walked towards the building.
Clara pushed through the doors, holding it to let Paul through with the wheelchair. The smell hit her first. Antiseptic. Too much of it. Covering something else underneath. The corridor stretched ahead, white walls and closed doors. A nurse sat at a desk, writing in a ledger.
She looked up as Clara and Paul approached. ‘Can I help you?’
Clara forced a smile. ‘Patient transfer request forms,’ she said, passing over the folder. ‘A patient was brought here by mistake. I’m here to take her back to Berlin.’
The nurse’s eyebrows rose. ‘To take a patient back? This is very irregular. What do they need to clarify?’
Clara shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’ve just been assigned to accompany her.’
‘I will need to check with my superior,’ said the nurse, reaching for the telephone on her desk.
‘That’s fine, but you can do that while we get the patient,’ said Clara. ‘We haven’t got much time.’
‘I think you should wait first,’ said the nurse.
‘The authorisation is time-stamped,’ Clara said, tapping the folder. She had no idea if there was such a thing. ‘It’s valid until lunchtime. After that we will need new paperwork for the ambulance requisition. Do you want to explain to the Wehrmacht why their transport schedule was delayed?’
‘I will get my superior,’ said the nurse. ‘Please wait a moment, Frau .?.?. ?’
‘Frau Wenger.’
‘One moment.’
As soon as the nurse had disappeared down the corridor, Clara quickly checked no one was about and spun the ledger around. Admissions for the end of last week.
There were four names, each one with a due date in the next three or four weeks. Her finger traced down the list.
Stern, Rachel, 36/40 – Zimmer 12.
Thur, Sarah, 36/40 – Zimmer 8.
Rothstein, Hannah, 37/40 – Zimmer 15.
The sound of footsteps returning had Clara spinning the ledger back around. She quickly made out she was looking for something in her bag when the nurse returned, along with a tall, thin man in a white coat, his Nazi Party pin glinted on his lapel. ‘This is Oberarzt Dr Dankmar,’ she said. ‘He handles all matter regarding patient transfers.’
‘Guten Tag, Frau Wenger.’ Dankmar held out his hand which Clara shook.
‘Guten Tag, Herr Dankmar.’
‘I understand there’s been an error with a patient, and they need to be taken back to Berlin for verification.’
‘That’s right.’
