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‘I had the oddest conversation with Joseph tonight,’ Minki began calmly. ‘He implied that he knew about Clara’s epilepsy. How could that have happened? We’ve never mentioned it to anyone.’
In the darkness, Minki could sense Max stiffening with anxiety.
‘Max…was it you? Did you tell him?’
‘Yes…I may have mentioned it.’
‘Why, in God’s name?’ Minki thundered. ‘Since her first fit, I’ve done everything I could to protect her from the authorities, and now…for you to tell him, of all people. Do you understand what you’ve done?’
‘He’s my friend. I wanted to discuss it with someone. You have such strong views about Clara, I feel excluded sometimes. I love her too, and I want what’s best for her. I was just trying to get a bit of perspective on the problem.’
‘Perspective! From Goebbels! Good God, are you completely insane?’ Minki screamed. ‘The last person on the planet to provide perspective is Joseph Goebbels.’
She put her head in her hands. ‘Oh Max,’ she groaned, ‘you have put our daughter in the most terrible danger.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Joseph wouldn’t harm our child.’
‘You think she’s safe because we’re old friends? Then you don’t know Goebbels at all. That man has no loyalty to anyone other than himself. And you are doing his bidding by producing a film that makes the view of the Party perfectly clear. Your charming tale of ‘‘beautiful woman begs for mercy killing” is just a short step from “let’s just terminate these people because they are valueless”.’
‘No, that’s nonsense, Minki – that would be unthinkable.’
‘Would it, Max? Don’t you understand that your own daughter is considered “valueless”, as far they are concerned? Do you realise what the Party think about people with hereditary diseases? They call them “useless eaters”’.
‘No, no – that’s not the same thing at all. The film was very clear – that we just want people to be able to discuss how their lives might come to an end with dignity. We’re saying that people should have autonomy over their lives, that’s all.’
Minki felt rage boiling up inside her. Part of her wanted to hit Max, to beat him about the head for his stupidity and naivety.
Arriving home, she leapt out of the car, slamming the door behind her. ‘Please don’t be so upset,’ Max called after her.
As he joined her on the front doorstep, she turned and looked him straight in the eye and said in a low, quiet voice: ‘Let me tell you something, Max…if it turns out that you have brought our daughter into danger, I will never forgive you – never.’
30
LONDON
August 1941
Leila was on her way to an early-morning meeting at the Foreign Office. Her publisher had got in touch a few days before, with the news that her book about the women of Germany had attracted some attention in government circles.
‘They’re very interested in your perspective and would like to talk to you about how you might help them with the war effort.’
‘Me? How could I possibly help them?’
‘I don’t know, but I can understand their interest. You’re a valuable asset, as you have first-hand experience of how half the German population have fared under Nazism. Let me know how it goes. And needless to say, the meeting is top secret for now – so mum’s the word.’
As she walked down King Charles Street towards the magnificent nineteenth-century Foreign Office building, Leila looked up to see a barrage balloon hanging over its roof, bobbing curiously in the breeze. She knew it was there to obstruct bombing raids, but it also struck her that it was rather odd to put a marker in the sky, inviting the German Luftwaffe to ‘bomb here’.
A pretty young secretary was waiting for Leila in the impressive entrance hall. ‘Good morning, MrsLabowski, my name is Amanda. It’s very nice to meet you.’
As they ascended the grandiose staircase, past murals depicting Britannia and the triumph of the British Empire, Amanda kept up a constant stream of idle chit-chat. ‘Have you been here before? I’ve been working here for six months and I still get lost…’
Finally, at the end of a long corridor, they arrived at their destination.
‘Here we are,’ said Amanda brightly. She knocked smartly on a solid oak door, opened it and ushered Leila inside, then shut the door behind her.
Facing Leila was a wide walnut desk between two shuttered windows. In the gloom, the room appeared to be completely deserted.
‘Ah, MrsLabowski, welcome.’
