Friedrich had his pistol trained on the two men in his living room. Paul had gone white, hands raised in surrender, but Max stood perfectly still. He had the look of a man calculating his next move.
‘Clara, stay back,’ ordered Friedrich. He didn’t look at her, his eyes still on the two men.
Max’s steady voice broke through the silence. ‘Clara.’ His eyes never left Friedrich. That’s when she saw the gun in Max’s hand, aimed at her husband’s chest. Max continued, ‘I suggest you very quickly explain to your husband what is going on here before someone gets hurt. Or worse. No one wants a bloodbath.’
Chapter 21
The cry of one of the twins cut through the air. Friedrich’s shoulders tensed and he turned his head a fraction towards the noise. ‘Clara. What is going on?’
Clara moved before she could think. Slowly, carefully, she crossed the hallway and placed herself between the two men. ‘Please put the gun down, Friedrich,’ she said, her voice steadier than she felt. ‘These men are here because I brought them.’
‘Clara .?.?.’
‘In our spare bedroom is a Jewish woman, Hannah Rothstein, with her newborn twins and her husband. I rescued her from Neuruppin. These men helped me. The babies are half an hour old.’
At this last sentence, Friedrich met her gaze. Friedrich stared at her as if seeing a stranger. ‘Clara, do you have any idea what you’ve done?’ His voice was barely above a whisper.
She nodded. ‘Yes.’ She stepped closer to him, gently pushing the pistol down towards the floor. ‘I’m sorry. You weren’t due home yet.’
‘I’m sorry I ruined your plan.’ The words came out clipped, bitter. Each syllable cut through Clara like glass. This wasn’t anger, this was fear disguised as fury, and beneath it all, the wound of betrayed trust. ‘Transport issues. We had to cancel and come back to Berlin.’
‘It was never planned. Not this. Hannah went into early labour,’ said Clara.
‘And what do you want me to do now?’ He was angry with her. Shocked. Disappointed maybe.
‘I can’t tell you what to do,’ she said softly. ‘You have to decide.’
‘If you don’t mind, I’d quite like to have a say in this,’ said Max. He still had his gun pointing towards Friedrich.
Clara turned to him. ‘Put your gun away,’ she said. ‘No one is going to shoot anyone here. Not in my home. Not when we have just risked everything to save a mother and her babies. Is that understood?’
Max seemed to consider this and then put his gun back in his waistband. He held up his hands. ‘If you say so. I trust you, Clara.’
She looked at her husband. ‘Friedrich?’
‘You’ve left me no choice.’ Friedrich met her eyes, and Clara saw everything in that look. Fear, love, resignation. ‘This isn’t how it was supposed to happen. You’ve brought this underground network into our home. You’ve brought danger to our doorstep.’ His voice dropped. ‘And you’ve forced my hand.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Clara. ‘But I couldn’t .?.?.’
She stopped as Friedrich held up his hand. ‘Don’t. Don’t say anything. Not now.’ He turned his attention back to Max and Paul. ‘Have you got a plan? What were you going to do about a Jewish woman, her husband and twin babies in the home of a German officer? What were you planning to do about yourselves being here?’
‘This wasn’t a plan,’ said Max. ‘But this is what happened. I will make arrangements to move the family.’
‘To where?’ demanded Friedrich.
Max squared his shoulders. ‘I may be in the house of a German officer and still be alive but I’m not about to tell you where I am taking them.’
There was a stand-off. Friedrich broke the silence. ‘In that case, I will tell you where the patrols are tonight and what area is safe.’
Max raised his eyebrows. ‘And I am supposed to trust you?’
‘That is your decision,’ replied Friedrich.
‘You can trust him,’ said Clara emphatically, going to Friedrich’s side and slipping her hand into his and holding his forearm with her other hand.
Max nodded.
Clara made coffee with trembling hands while Friedrich and Max stood at the dining table in an uneasy truce, bent over a map of Berlin. Their voices remained low, heads close together as Friedrich traced routes and marked patrol positions. Watching them, Clara felt a strange mixture of pride and terror – her two worlds colliding in a way she’d never imagined.
