Clara’s heart sank. ‘I should have taken the other page with the husband’s details on. They will know where to find them. I must warn them.’
‘No. You don’t need to,’ said Marie. ‘It seems that page was missing as well.’ She held her head a little higher as she spoke. ‘I suspect it will never be found.’ She moved her hand to rest over the pocket of her coat. ‘Like the first page. Lost forever.’
Clara glanced at Friedrich who was sitting silently, listening to the conversation. She couldn’t read his expression, but he was an intelligent man. He would have already worked out what had happened.
He got to his feet, dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a lighter. He placed it on the mantelpiece. ‘If you would excuse me, ladies. I have some paperwork I need to attend to.’ He tapped the silver lighter with his finger and gave Clara a meaningful look before leaving the room.
Clara waited for the study door to close and then jumped to her feet, rushing over to the bag she’d taken to the Rothsteins’ earlier that afternoon. From it, she pulled out the piece of paper from the hospital file and went over to the fireplace. It took her a couple of flicks to make the lighter work, then kneeling, she held the naked flame to the corner of the paper, before dropping it into the fireplace. She sat there watching the yellow flame eagerly lick its way around the edge of the paper before swallowing it up.
‘Do you have anything you need to burn?’ asked Clara.
Marie came over to kneel beside her friend. ‘I do actually.’ From her pocket she took out a piece of paper that had been scrunched up into a ball. She flattened it out a little before tossing it into the fire, giving the last remnant of flame something new to feast upon. Soon all that was left was ash.
Clara heard the study door open just as she finished washing the glasses. Marie had left a few minutes earlier, apologising again. ‘There’s no need,’ reassured Clara. ‘We have to do what we must. I understand.’
Friedrich’s footsteps, normally so measured, seemed heavier tonight. She turned to find him standing in the doorway, his uniform jacket unbuttoned, his face drawn with concern.
Clara dried her hands on a cloth. ‘Thank you for the lighter.’
Friedrich crossed the room and took her hands in his. ‘Tell me what happened with this Brandt woman.’
Clara exhaled, eyes dropping to their joined fingers. ‘It’s nothing I can’t handle.’
‘Clara.’ His voice gentled. ‘Liebling, please.’
She met his gaze. ‘She doesn’t like British women. That’s all. She doesn’t trust me.’
Friedrich released her hands and paced to the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to peer into the street. When he turned back, his expression was full of concern but also a hardness. ‘I don’t want you working there anymore.’
Clara blinked. The bluntness startled her. Friedrich didn’t speak like this.
‘I can’t just leave. It’s not just a job to me. You know that.’
‘It’s not safe.’
‘It’s safe enough.’ Even as she said it, the lie tasted bitter in her mouth. She could still hear Brandt’s threat.
‘I’ve never been one of those husbands who insist on obedience,’ Friedrich said, ‘but this once .?.?.’ He paused and Clara could see him wrestle with what he wanted to say. Finally, he let out a long sigh as if defeated. ‘Just consider what I’m saying,’ he settled on.
She studied his face. The deep crease in his brow and the firm set of his jaw. She thought of Hannah Rothstein. Of how she’d been turned away like a criminal. And how the authorities were now hunting her down. ‘Please, Friedrich,’ she said quietly. ‘Don’t ask me to walk away.’
‘I can’t protect you there.’
‘And I can’t abandon them.’
He glanced at her medical bag lying by the door like a silent witness. ‘You can’t wage war on the authorities,’ he said softly. ‘You won’t win.’
Clara moved to stand in front of him, reaching for his hand. ‘Then tell me what to do,’ she whispered. ‘Tell me how to leave a woman who is frantic and distraught because she thinks her baby has died in her womb, but no one will help her. Tell me how to be that person.’
Friedrich pulled her against him and was silent for a moment before letting out a long breath. ‘My beautiful, kind-hearted Clara,’ he murmured. ‘Always fighting. Always giving. Always carrying more than your share.’
‘I—’ Clara went to speak but Friedrich put his finger to her lips.
‘I won’t ask you to leave,’ he said taking his hand away. ‘But please, just grant me one wish.’
She nodded. ‘What is it?’
His voice fractured on the words. ‘Please don’t break my heart.’
