Clara took in the bruising around his jaw that looked several days old. There was a nick above his eye that was also healing. ‘Are you all right?’ she repeated, noting how he wouldn’t look at her, but kept his gaze on the floor.
He nodded. ‘Yes. But I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘That’s all right. I understand.’ Clara exchanged a look with Marie who had come out into the hall. ‘Marie is here.’
Paul glanced up at her, before returning his gaze back to his feet. ‘There’s a woman who needs you.’
‘Is it urgent?’ asked Clara.
‘Clara can’t go,’ said Marie before Paul could answer.
Paul snapped his head up. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Clara isn’t feeling well,’ said Marie. ‘She needs to rest.’
‘Is this true?’ Paul looked at Clara.
Clara hesitated. ‘How urgent are we talking?’
‘She’s bleeding. She is asking for you. The Angel of Life. You have to come.’
Marie began to protest but Clara put her hand on her friend’s arm. ‘It’s all right.’ She turned to Paul. ‘I’ll come, but it has to be now. I must be back this evening.’
The young man nodded.
‘Clara, are you sure about this?’ asked Marie ‘Shouldn’t you be more careful?’
‘I’ll be fine.’ Clara couldn’t contemplate leaving a pregnant woman bleeding. It might be her last act of helping someone.
‘I can go,’ said Marie.
‘No!’ It was Paul. ‘She specifically asked for Clara. She doesn’t trust anyone else. You can’t come.’
‘Sorry, I’m coming,’ insisted Marie. ‘If Clara is going, then so am I.’
‘Let’s not argue,’ said Clara. She was already taking her coat from the stand and shrugging it on. Marie followed suit.
‘Hurry,’ said Paul.
Clara grabbed her bag and headed out of the apartment, following at a safe distance from Paul. She slipped her arm into Marie’s. ‘He’s not usually as prickly as this but I dread to think what happened to him when he was questioned.’
It wasn’t until they were sitting on the tram, taking them across the city, when Clara remembered she hadn’t left the midwifery book out for Friedrich to see when he got home. She wanted to kick herself. She’d never forgotten to do that. With any luck, she’d be home before he was or soon after.
Clara stepped off the tram, with Marie behind her, and began following Paul who walked a little way ahead of them. It wasn’t the usual district that Clara was used to. The buildings here were older, their facades stained with soot and neglect and several windows along the street were boarded up.
As they walked, she was aware of Marie moving closer to her. She seemed equally alert to their surroundings. Paul led them down a narrow side street where the cobblestones were broken and uneven, making their footsteps echo louder than Clara liked.
The tenement building he stopped in front of looked particularly run-down with peeling paint on the entrance door and several broken windows.
Clara felt a flutter of unease in her stomach, her hand automatically smoothing over it. The building smelled of dampness and neglect.
‘I don’t like this place,’ Marie whispered, gripping Clara’s arm tighter.
‘It’s awful how some people are having to live now,’ Clara whispered back, though she shared Marie’s discomfort.
Paul had stopped at the first floor, his hands visibly trembling as he knocked on the door. When no one answered, he simply pushed it open. ‘She’s .?.?. she’s in the back room,’ he stammered, unable to meet their eyes.
Marie tugged sharply at Clara’s sleeve. ‘Clara, no. We should leave.’
