Clara remained sitting on the sofa, her body tense, her hands in her lap while Friedrich showed the policemen out. She was mentally bracing herself for Friedrich’s reaction once they were alone. She knew her husband well enough to know that he would be suppressing all sorts of emotions until such time. Everything he had predicted was coming true. All his fears were walking right into their home, and it was her fault. She had brought them here – knowingly. Why would she do that to someone she loved so much? Especially now the stakes were so much higher. There was something she hadn’t told him yet, something she had been keeping to herself, but she no longer had that luxury.
His footsteps back down the hallway towards the living room were slow and heavy, carrying the weight of visit with each strike of the floor.
She sensed him standing behind her. His gaze no doubt taking one last look at her before everything they had done so far was to change. She knew that. He didn’t need to tell her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered without turning. She looked down at her hands as she twiddled her wedding band around her finger.
‘Clara,liebling,’ Friedrich said with a weariness that if she didn’t know him better sounded like defeat. ‘We need to talk.’ He gave a sigh before stepping into the room.
Clara got to her feet, looking at him. ‘I need to tell you something,’ she said quickly before he could speak.
Concern immediately flicked across Friedrich’s face. He lifted his hand, cupping the side of her face. ‘What is it?’ Oh, how she didn’t want to tell him like this. She had envisaged this moment to be so much more romantic, more poignant. ‘Clara, what is it?’ he asked again when she didn’t reply.
Despite everything, she couldn’t help a small smile breaking out. ‘I’m pregnant.’ Her gazed searched his face, looking for a response. ‘I’m having a baby. We’re having a baby.’ He continued to look at her, not saying a word. ‘Friedrich, we’re having a baby.’
He nodded as if almost in a daze. Tears sprang to his eyes, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, one hand cupping the back of her head as he buried his face in her hair.
She slipped her arms around him. She had no idea what he felt about it.
Finally, he pulled away and kissed her. But a tear slipped from his eye. ‘Say something,’ she whispered. She suddenly felt confused and frightened all at the same time.
‘I’m so happy,’ he said, ‘but I am so scared too.’
Clara shook her head. ‘Don’t be scared. Don’t think about what is making you scared. Not for a moment anyway. Just think about what is making you happy.’ She pulled his hand to her stomach. ‘Your child is in there. You are going to be a father. We are going to be a family. That is good. That is happiness. Let’s just allow ourselves to indulge in this feeling, if only for a short time.’ She wiped away his tear. ‘I am over twelve weeks pregnant. I had it confirmed at the clinic yesterday. Everything is fine. It explains why I’ve felt sick on and off for a few weeks now. I’m hoping that will subside but other than that, we are both healthy.’ She rose on tiptoes and kissed him. ‘Everything is fine.’
Friedrich pulled her towards him again, sitting himself in the chair and pulling her onto his lap. He kissed her, told her how much he loved her and how much he already loved their child. He stroked her stomach, marvelling that it still looked so flat and he hadn’t even suspected that she might be pregnant. He told her what a wonderful mother she would be.
It was blissful. Clara was so happy to hear his enthusiasm and pleasure at their news.
When he gently moved her from his lap and onto the sofa, before taking her hands in his and looking solemnly at her, she knew the moment of escape into a world of love was over.
‘You know this means you can’t carry on with what you’re doing,’ he said. ‘And after the police coming today, you are no longer safe,liebling. I can only protect you for so long and that time we have left is very short.’ The look of worry and pain was written all over his face. She could see it in every crinkle at his eyes, every frown line on his forehead and every muscle of his clenched jaw.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I never meant this to happen.’
‘Shhh, you can’t think like that. But the net around you is closing. They are asking about the Angel of Life. People are talking. It’s not safe. And it will only be a matter of time before they know it was you at the facility.’ He stroked her face. ‘It is no longer safe for you to be in Berlin.’
He paused, letting the statement sink in. Clara slowly shook her head. ‘I’m not leaving the city. I’m not leaving you.’
‘Clara, you have no choice. You need to leave.’
‘But where? Where am I supposed to go? And what about you?’
‘I cannot come.’
‘You can. I’m not going on my own. Please Friedrich, you can’t let me leave you. I am carrying our child.’
‘I have already made plans. I prepared for this day,’ he said, as if he hadn’t heard her.
Of course he had planned for this. Friedrich wouldn’t have left anything to chance. ‘What’s going to happen?’
Friedrich moved to his desk and withdrew a leather portfolio, his movements deliberate and calm despite the gravity of the situation. Clara watched him, her hand instinctively moving to her still-flat stomach.
He sat back down beside her and opened a folder, spreading several documents out across the coffee table. ‘These are your travel documents. You will be Nurse Frida from the Health Ministry, travelling to check the supplies being transported and assess what other supplies are needed to be transferred to the hospital in Lille.’
Clara’s eye’s widened as she took in the official Wehrmacht letterheads, the official stamps and authorisation codes. ‘Friedrich, please don’t make me go.’
He carried on without answering. ‘I requisitioned the paperwork legitimately. The authorisation codes are real, the transport exits. The transfer of soldiers is real. You’ll be accompanying three actual patients who need medical supervision during transport. It is something I have been organising. I can easily arrange for you to travel on any given day. This is the route.’ He traced his finger across a map. ‘The next convoy I can get you on leaves the day after tomorrow at five thirty in the morning. Dawn checkpoint changes happen at six o’clock. So, like before, you will be crossing when there will be less scrutiny.’
