The Girl from Berlin, #1 Read online

  “And what would have happened if I’d told you? Would you move in here? No. Some things are better left unsaid, Annalise, and especially these days. Let’s not fight. Just get over it.”

  He made a step toward me and stretched out both hands, trying to hug me, but I quickly stepped aside, closer to the exit and out of his reach.

  “Don’t touch me. You… I can’t even believe you. Get over it? You’re telling your Jewish wife to get over it?” Suddenly another thought crossed my mind like a sharp knife. “Wait a minute, Heinrich. How did the Party get the house? Who gave an order for their eviction?”

  He was looking at me without saying a word. And I wanted him so bad to say anything, just about anything to prove me wrong.

  “Heinrich, who is in charge of collecting the information about Jewish families and their assets?” He was still quiet, so I answered instead of him. “The SD office, isn’t it? Your office. And you’re in charge of it.”

  “I’m not in charge of the whole office. I work in the external intelligence department. I have nothing to do with the deportations.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Heinrich! Your SD office threw those people out so you could settle down here with your new wife! What did your colleagues do to them anyway? You know what, don’t even answer me, because I don’t want to know! Oh my God, I can’t believe I married you! I thought you were different from them, but you are just exactly the same. Even worse. Because you pretend to be good.”

  “Herzchen, calm down. You’re overly affected by that diary, and you don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “I know very well what I’m saying!” I was almost screaming at him. “Why did you even marry me? Just because I look German?”

  “Annalise, keep it quiet.”

  “No, I won’t keep it quiet! My Grandmother was so right when she said there’s no such thing as a ‘good Nazi.’ I should have listened to her! And what are you going to do when you get tired of me? Maybe send me to the camp with the rest of the Jews?”

  He shut my mouth with his hand so fast that I didn’t even understand what happened. All I knew was that I was pressed against the wall and could hardly breathe now.

  “Are you insane saying things like that out loud?!” He whispered to me through gritted teeth. “It’s enough for one person to hear you, and you’ll be done for. And your whole family! Our damn maid is downstairs, and you’re screaming at the top of your lungs!”

  He finally removed his hand from my face and touched my shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, dear, did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to do that, I just wanted to protect you. You don’t realize how dangerous it is to say something like that. You’ll get yourself killed.”

  He tried to hug me again, but I wormed myself out of his embrace and quickly walked out the door. He followed me to the top of the stairs and called out my name.

  “Annalise!”

  “I should have never married you!”

  Chapter Eleven

  I woke up at the sound of the alarm clock and tried to stretch, hearing my joints cracking in several places. For the third night I was sleeping on the couch in the library, but it was so uncomfortable and small that I couldn’t even completely stretch my legs. And today was the first day when I had to go back to my ballet practices. The little vacation the company gave me was officially over. It was going to be a long day.

  Heinrich and I hadn’t really spoken since the diary incident, except for several times when he asked me when I was planning to end the silent treatment. I wouldn’t even answer him. My first initial shock had passed, and now I was mostly thinking about the future. I couldn’t divorce him, but even if I tried, on the ground of what? “I’m sorry, Herr Judge, could you please sign my divorce papers? I’m Jewish, and it turned out that my Nazi husband doesn’t like the Jews.” Ridiculous.

  Forget about the whole thing and pretend like nothing happened? Keep living in a confiscated house, wear confiscated silk and fur, and live happily ever after closing my eyes to the sufferings of my own people? Or just screw it all, pick up and leave? Go to some other city? Maybe New York? I even have a friend waiting for me in New York. I smiled at the thought of seeing Adam’s surprised face if I would suddenly show up at his door. He would be so happy.

  And then I thought of Heinrich again. The biggest flaw in my last plan was that I still loved my husband. Loved him dearly and deeply. Hated him and couldn’t live without him at the same time. Loved every corner of his dark Nazi soul. What kind of a Jew am I after that?

  A proud one, I told myself, brushing my hair in front of the mirror in the bathroom on the first floor. I was only entering our bedroom to change my clothes now, so the bathroom over there was out of the question. I knew that even the towels in there smelled of his aftershave and it was driving me crazy. The only way I could figure out what to do was to completely separate myself from him for now, to understand my own feelings.

  Out of some rebellious desire to protest against them all, the Party that draw a line between the two of us and the Führer who was leading them, I took my Star of David out of its hiding place – the second bottom of my powder case – put it on and hid it under my dress. I smiled at my reflection. Today I will be dancing wearing it, and nobody will know. But I will, and that will be enough.

  At the theatre I received some interesting news. Giselle, our prima-ballerina, before we started our regular morning barre, announced that she’d be taking a temporary leave because she was expecting her first child. And after everyone was done with hugging and kissing, she suggested me to Frau Martha as her temporary substitute for that period of time.

  “You know how much I love every single one of you.” She smiled at the other soloists. “But Annalise really saved me when I twisted my ankle not too long ago, and she did great. Of course it’s not up to me to decide, but I think she would be the most obvious choice for the company. I’ve never seen anyone so fully dedicated to dancing, and it’s not only about the technique, which we all know she mastered to perfection, she really puts her whole soul in her dance. Every time I watch her move, she’s so immersed in it, she becomes her character, you live that character’s life with her, you get the emotions, you want to move with her, and that’s what makes her so captivating for the public.”

  “You’re too kind.” I smiled at Giselle, but at the same time couldn’t help but feel proud of someone so talented acknowledging my recent success as her temporary substitute. “But I couldn’t ever compare to you.”

  “Oh, no, a couple more years and you’ll be better than me.”

  After we were done with the barre, which came to me surprisingly easy after not exercising at all for two weeks, I had to follow Giselle to the other room where I had to practice her part. That was really exhausting, and after several hours of dancing I took a little break and went to the women’s bathroom to wash up.

  I was soaking wet. My feet were already hurting me, and I knew that tomorrow I’d be really sore. I started drinking water right from the faucet when Gretchen came in and started wetting her towel next to me.

  “So, how are the rehearsals going, Your Highness?”

  “Fine, thank you.” I was too tired to fight, so I decided to simply ignore Gretchen’s usual poisonous tongue and be as polite as I could.

  “You must be really happy. Everything seems to be coming together for you. The marriage, the little promotion, the new home.”

  She even knew about the home. Probably Reinhard told her, who else.

  “Yes, I am very happy, thank you.”

  After I finally drank enough water, I started washing my face and neck, trying to cool myself down after an exhausting routine. I started feeling so refreshed and relaxed that I didn’t even notice how both my necklaces, the one with my dancing shoes and the other one with the Star of David slipped from under my clothes. Gretchen, however, did notice.

  “What is that?”

  “Huh?”

  I lifted my head from the sink and followed
her gaze to my chest. I tried to make a motion to put both necklaces back inside, but she snatched up the one with the Star of David and yanked it off my neck.

  “Give it back!” Even though I immediately broke into a cold sweat, realizing the horror of my situation, I tried to grab it back from Gretchen’s hand, but there was no way she would let go of her trophy so easily.

  “You! You’re a dirty little Jew!!! I always knew that!”

  “Give it to me!” I tried to catch her hand with my necklace clenched in it, but she pushed me off, against the wall. She looked at me with such a victorious look on her face, like a cat who caught a mouse eating its food.

  “I can’t believe it! How did you cheat everybody for so long, huh? You dirty, nasty Jew! You’re dead now!”

  She flashed a predator’s smile at me and rushed to the door, but there was no way I would let her walk out with what was basically my death sentence in her hand. Following some primitive instinct of survival, I jumped on her from the back, grabbed her by the hair and, with all the force I had, pushed her into the mirror wall. I guess I hit her hard, because the mirror cracked where her head hit it. For a second she lost her concentration, and it was more than enough time for me to grab my necklace back from her hand and run.

  As I was turning the corner of the hallway, I heard Gretchen screaming at the top of her lungs behind my back.

  “Somebody call the Gestapo!!! She’s a dirty lying Jew!!! Get her! Don’t let her get away!”

  I ran into the dressing room, grabbed my bag, and ran out of the back entrance. I was running all the way to the bus station and, to my luck, one was just approaching. I quickly jumped on it, terrified to look back. Half a minute, that’s how long it took for the bus to start moving, but it seemed like a century to me. I was so relieved that no one was following me in the street, and I could now make it home and think of how to get out of all this. I turned my face away from the window and noticed the passengers’ curious looks at me. What was even worse, several Nazi officers, who occupied the seats at the front of the bus, were staring at me as well. And then I realized that I was still wearing my long, full and fluffy ballerina skirt and pointe shoes. On top of it I still had my Star of David clenched in my fist, but nobody saw it.

  Trying to attract as little attention as I could, I sat on one of the empty seats, opened my bag and dropped the necklace to the very bottom of it. Then I took out my regular shoes that I threw in there in the rush of my escape and changed into them. Thank God no one asked me anything, and in about half an hour I safely made it home.

  As soon as I locked the door behind me, the cold sweat of fear covered my whole body. What was I supposed to do now? What a stupid, stupid thing to do, to wear something like that in public! What the hell was I thinking? Sheltered by the safety of the long time ago falsified documents, I’d started to feel invincible from the Nazis. And it was the biggest mistake I could have ever made that could cost me my life. And not just me, my whole family.

  “Idiot, idiot, idiot!!!” I screamed at myself and, feeling absolutely helpless, slid down the door to the floor.

  I felt the tears filling my eyes and, for a second, felt like there was no way out of this, so why not just wait for them to come get me and get this over with. But some new person inside of me, some new Annalise I never knew existed before, got a hold of me. Pull yourself together, she said. Even the most hopeless situations have at least two solutions. But what do I start with? First of all, get rid of the evidence. This way it will be her word against yours.

  Right. The evidence. I dug my necklace out from my bag, and without thinking twice, ran up to the attic and threw it in the suitcase together with the Menorah and mezuzah. Together with all the Jewish belongings it wouldn’t even look suspicious. Second, make up a story. I tore off my other necklace, the one that Heinrich gave me, from my neck and made sure it bruised my skin a little. Third, pull yourself together. Take a shower and put on a nice dress and then go make some coffee. That’s what innocent people do. Good. Now all we have to do is wait.

  The Gestapo showed up in about two hours. The loud knock on the door almost made me drop the cup I was washing and immediately sent chills down my spine. I wiped my hands on a towel, straightened my dress and hair, and went to open the front door. Three men, all in black leather coats, eyed me up and down. The one who was standing in the front, finally spoke.

  “Annalise Friedmann?”

  “Yes.”

  “We have an order for your arrest. You’re suspected of hiding your Jewish identity. You’re going to have to come with us for an interrogation.”

  Interrogation. I knew what that meant. Everybody in Germany knew what it meant, but nobody ever spoke of it.

  “All right.”

  I knew that there was no use trying to talk or plead, so I just locked the door behind myself and followed them to the black car parked near the sidewalk. I forgot my coat. They wouldn’t have probably allowed me to take it anyway. We were making our way to our destination in complete silence. Even “the leather coats” weren’t talking to each other. It was even more terrifying.

  We finally reached a gate, which a soldier with a machine gun opened after verifying the driver’s papers. Again, no words had been spoken. I started to feel more and more uneasy. After we entered the tall grey building, they right away took me downstairs, to the basement as I guessed, and then led me all the way through the long corridor with locked rooms on each side. No sound could be heard from upstairs. “Abandon all hope, you who enter here,” they should have put a sign at the very entrance of these catacombs. The Gestapo jail.

  We entered a smaller hall with several rooms and two guards, who were playing cards when we entered. They rose when they saw us and, giving me an indifferent look, asked the leader of the group, “Where to?”

  “Room six. Kuntz should come down with the file soon to speak to her.”

  One of the guards opened the door to one of the cells, grabbed my elbow, and pushed me inside, locking the door behind me with a loud bang. I was left alone in a small square room with the two iron chairs and a heavy table. Nothing else. Just the concrete walls and a dim light on the ceiling. If I thought that it was cold outside, I was mistaken. In this tiny basement room, it was freezing, and all I was wearing was a thin dress with short sleeves. I sat on one of the chairs, which felt like a piece of ice, and wrapped my hands around myself, trying not to shiver too much. It didn’t help a bit.

  I have no idea how long I was sitting there, but finally I heard some loud voices by the door and saw it open. I was both relieved and scared: relieved because I could at last talk to someone in charge here and ask them to call my husband. I was sure they wouldn’t treat me like a regular criminal when they learned that I was their superior’s wife. But at the same time I didn’t know how much trouble it would get Heinrich in.

  A bald man with tiny evil eyes came in, holding some papers in his hand. I was still sitting, looking at him anxiously, waiting for him to speak first. He pushed the door closed behind his back, without taking his eyes off me moved the chair with a loud screech and sat across the table from me. I nervously gulped. Slowly, he opened the file he’d brought in and looked me straight in the eye.

  “Have you been told what you’re being accused of, Frau Friedmann?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “Good. So, are you admitting the fact of concealing of your Jewish origin and the falsification of your papers?”

  “N-no. I mean… I’m not Jewish, I’m Aryan.”

  “Right. So your passport says, huh? And your Aryan certificate. All here and in order. But it says here that you were caught wearing a Star of David. What is that all about?”

  “I never wore a Star of David. I don’t even own one. I’m a Protestant, like the rest of my family. I go to church on Sundays.”

  By the look on his face I could see that he wasn’t buying it.

  “I’m going to read you something from the report I have here. From the word
s of Gretchen Wolf, who works for the same ballet company as you do: Fräulein Wolf noticed a necklace with a pendant (which was a Jewish Star of David) on Frau Friedmann’s neck and took it off immediately. Following her civic duty, which prescribes all the citizens to report all the Jews to the authorities, Fräulein Wolf tried to do the same, when Frau Friedmann maliciously attacked her and, after stealing the evidence from her victim’s hand, made a quick escape before Fräulein Wolf could take any measures to stop her.”

  He stopped reading and squinted his eyes at me, which made him look even more evil than he already did. I felt a cold sweat breaking out on my temples.

  “You were caught, Frau Friedmann, fair and square. We have the witness here, so let’s just drop the whole red-tape thing with the interrogation, with the court, and sign the confession, shall we? And of course you’ll have to give me the names and addresses of people who made your papers because they look as real as mine.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Sir. Whatever is described in that statement in absolutely false.”

  He cringed at my words as if I made him swallow a bitter pill.

  “Frau Friedmann, I’m begging you, I’ve had a long day and want to go home. I have no desire to stay here with you all night, getting that confession out of you, and trust me, you will sign it.” He rubbed his forehead like a school teacher who was trying to get the right answer out of his student, but unsuccessfully. “I have a whole bunch of other papers here, confirming your close ties with the Jewish community, signed by an SS officer, who was doing research on you and which was dropped, at the request of your husband.”

  My husband! So he knows who my husband is! Maybe he’ll let me talk to him after all?

  “Your husband, who you so wickedly deceived.” After those last words I lost that tiny hope I had. They won’t let me talk to him. I’m on my own. “But now, when the truth finally surfaced, and it always does, Frau Friedmann, you have no other choice left. Sign the confession, and it’ll soon be over.”