‘Clara, that is not your “fine” smile.’
‘We can talk later once you’re back,’ said Clara, brushing the lapels of his jacket. ‘It can wait.’
‘No. It can’t.’
Clara let out a sigh. ‘I bumped into someone I used to work with at the Charité,’ she said. ‘Greta Brandt.’
Friedrich frowned. ‘The one who was rude to you.’
‘Yes, that one. Delightful woman.’
‘Now I know that’s your British sarcasm as she was anything but delightful.’
Clara looked down at the ground. Friedrich wouldn’t be making such a flippant comment once she told him what Brandt had said. ‘There’s something else.’ She looked up at him, his expression turning serious once more. She could see his mind, trying to put the pieces together before she told him.
‘Brandt,’ he said drawing the name out. And then she saw the realisation fall across him. ‘Neuruppin.’ Clara nodded. Friedrich closed his eyes for a moment, opening them again to look at her. ‘Tell me it’s not true.’
‘I wish I could. She was waiting for me as I left the clinic.’
‘What did she say?’
‘That she had volunteered to help find a midwife who was helping the Jewish community. A midwife known as the Angel of Life.’ Clara could barely say the words out loud.
‘Does she know it is you?’
‘She didn’t say outright, but she suspects. I denied it. Called her bluff. She has no solid proof.’
Friedrich frowned as he contemplated the news. ‘You did the right thing, but you must take extra care now. Please keep a low profile for a while. Go to work and work only. Nothing else. It’s too dangerous when I’m not here to help you, to protect you. Promise?’
Clara’s stomach twisted with the knowledge that she couldn’t make the promise he needed. ‘I’ll only do what’s absolutely necessary.’
‘That’s not what I said.’
‘Friedrich.’
‘No, Clara, please.’ His voice cracked slightly. ‘I don’t want you out in the city at night or anywhere dangerous. Promise me.’
She looked into his blue eyes, today flecked with grey – a reflection of his anxiety that made her want to weep. How could she make a promise she might not be able to keep? ‘I promise I’ll only do what’s absolutely necessary. Only if it’s life or death.’
He studied her face for a long moment, and she wondered if he could see the evasion in her words. ‘I suppose that’s the best I’m going to get.’ A heavy sigh escaped him, defeat evident in the slope of his shoulders.
An hour later, after Friedrich left, Clara felt as though half her soul had walked out the door with him. She knew she should sleep, but anxiety crawled under her skin like an army of ants. Despite her bravado at her encounter with Brandt, being alone in the apartment, albeit for just a few hours while he was out, set every nerve on edge.
She ran a hot bath, sinking into the water and letting it soak away the tension in her shoulders. The heat was almost enough to make her forget the constant fear that seemed to live in her chest now.
She nearly dozed off in the warmth until sudden banging on her door shattered the peace. Her heart lurched as she sat bolt upright, water sloshing violently over the edge of the tub. She listened carefully for the pattern, her pulse hammering in her throat. When the coded knock came again, relief flooded through her.
Wrapping herself in a towel and pulling on her dressing gown, Clara hurried to the door, already knowing what this meant and hating herself for it.
Paul looked startled when she opened the door, taking in her dishevelled appearance. ‘I was in the bath,’ Clara whispered, guilt already forming in her stomach. ‘Come in, quickly.’
‘I have someone with me.’ Paul stepped into the apartment, followed by Marie.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Clara, looking from one to the other.
‘I was calling in to see you,’ said Marie. ‘We met in the stairwell. And I think it’s a good job we did.’
Clara closed the door behind them, waiting for an explanation.
