Page 49 of The Watchmaker of Dachau

He heard her door shut, and Friedrich climbed off his bed and went into his parents’ bathroom where a cabinet was hung on the wall by the mirror – he knew what was inside.

He had to jump up to retrieve the bottle he was looking for, the tiny white pills rattling inside the brown glass. He shook out two, then three, then thought of Schmidt’s rotund body – maybe he needed four? He thought for a minute. His mother would take one and sleep all day, and if she had fought with his father, perhaps two, and then come to dinner in the evening, groggy and strange.

Two. That would be enough. He tipped the other two back into the bottle, then made his way downstairs to the kitchen.

‘May I have some hot chocolate?’ he asked Anna who stood washing dishes, her eyes looking out of the window. She jumped as he spoke, then turned to him.

‘Can I? Please?’ he asked, giving her the sweetest smile he could muster.

‘Greta should make it for you.’ Anna looked to the kitchen door, as if someone else would walk through.

‘Where is she?’ Friedrich asked.

‘She’s gone to the market for your mother.’

‘Well then, you’ll have to do it. Please?’

‘I’m not supposed to,’ she whispered to him, and he saw that her eyes were filling with tears.

‘Don’t be upset.’ He walked towards her then, just as he would have done if his mother let him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and gave her a quick hug. ‘Why are you upset? Don’t you know how to make it? I do – I can show you if you like?’

He pulled away and saw that she was smiling at him now. ‘I know how to make it. Wait in the living room and I will bring it to you.’

‘It’s all right.’ He sat at the kitchen table. ‘I’ll wait here.’

He watched as she poured the cold milk into a pan and set it on the heat, then slowly spooned in the chocolate powder and gently stirred.

‘I haven’t seen you for ages,’ Friedrich said. ‘Where did you go?’

Anna looked hesitant. ‘There were some sick people, and your mother thought it best I didn’t come back to the house in case I made you unwell.’

‘I heard Father say that people were dying. Is it in the same town that Isaac lives in?’

She nodded.

‘Is Isaac all right?’

‘He is.’

‘I knew you were here. I could hear your footsteps, they’re not like Mother’s – they’re really light, like a tiny mouse or a ghost. But when I’d try and find you, you always disappeared!’

‘Perhaps I am a ghost.’ She poured the chocolate milk into a green mug, then handed it to him.

‘I haven’t been able to look outside for Isaac though, so I’m glad to know he is back too.’

‘Do you want me to blow on it for you?’ She nodded at the mug, which he hadn’t touched yet.

He wanted to sit longer in the warm kitchen with the smell of fresh vegetable soup on the stove, the rich yeasty scent of bread baking in the oven, but he knew his job awaited him.

‘It’s all right, I’ll blow on it. I’ll take it into the living room. Have you seen Schmidt yet this morning?’

‘Herr Schmidt was carrying two boxes of papers into your father’s study the last I saw of him. I expect that is where he is. Do you want me to call him for you?’

‘No! I’ll find him if I need him.’ Friedrich smiled at her. ‘Thank you, Anna.’

In the hallway, Friedrich held the mug carefully in one hand whilst he knocked on the study door with the other.

‘Who is it?’ Schmidt’s voice rang out, making Friedrich angry – it was his house, his father’s study; how dare he ask?