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‘Nothing about Germany, or that man, is funny, Axel. You of all people should know that.’ Furious, Leila stormed out, slamming the door behind her, and returned to the kitchen, where Sofia was still doing her homework.
‘Mutti…are you all right?’
‘Not really – I just found Axel listening to that awful man William Joyce. Has he done it before?’
‘Maybe,’ replied Sofia nervously. ‘But lots of people I know at school listen to Lord Haw-Haw.’
Leila looked shocked. ‘Really? And their parents allow it?’
‘They listen too…the whole family do. People say he gives them a different perspective on the war.’ Sofia shrugged her shoulders.
Leila sighed and took some meat from a plate in the larder. She began to fry it with a little lard in a pan, where it sizzled invitingly. ‘Lord Haw-Haw is not giving people perspective, Sofia. He is belittling the British people and undermining their bravery. What you need to understand is that these programmes put out by Goebbels’ propaganda team are not “entertainment” – they are intended to weaken the resolve of the British people.’
‘But isn’t that what some of the programmes you make are intended to do? You told me you have actors pretending to be Hitler, portraying him as an idiot…aren’t they intended to shatter his image in the eyes of the people?’
Leila was startled by her daughter’s analysis. ‘On the surface, it might appear to be the same thing, but there are differences. Most importantly, the BBC news broadcasts are as accurate as possible – we even run stories that are negative about Britain’s progress in the war. The Germans would never be so honest. Admittedly, some of the talks on the BBC try to open the minds of the German people to the evil that Hitler represents. But that’s because heisevil, Sofia. In Germany anyone who steps out of line is liable to be imprisoned, tortured or murdered. People like your father.’
Sofia’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m sorry, Mutti…I hadn’t thought of it like that.’
Leila came over and hugged her daughter. ‘It’s all right. I’d just prefer that neither of you listened to that awful man.’
‘I promise,’ said Sofia. ‘Shall I go collect the apples now?’
‘Yes please, darling,’
Sofia took a basket from the shelf and went out into the yard, calling for her brother. As the children walked past Leila and out into the hall, she heard her daughter admonishing Axel. ‘You mustn’t listen to that man any more – Mutti doesn’t like it.’
Leila put the browned meat into a casserole dish, added a little water and a few chopped vegetables and put the dish in the oven. Once it was cooking, she collected her mother’s letter from the hall table, went into the sitting room and sat at her desk in the window.
The children were diligently picking up fallen apples, but Axel kept looking anxiously towards the window where his mother sat. He was obviously feeling guilty, she realised, so she smiled at him encouragingly, and opened the letter.
My darling Leila,
I hope you and the children are well.
I wanted to let you know that I have finally convinced your father that we must leave Germany. I mentioned in my last letter that his business had been shut down by the authorities, and money is getting tight. Did you also know that they have introduced a law insisting that we Jews must wear a yellow star on our clothes? They have turned our Star of David – a symbol of our religion – into something loathsome. You see awful things happening to anyone wearing the star. A couple of weeks ago, I was coming back from shopping and passed the cinema. There was a line of people waiting to get into the next film. Two SS officers were passing, and noticed two women in the queue wearing the star. The men hauled them out of the queue, handed them a bucket and brushes, and forced them to clean the pavement. These two ladies, in their best coats, were made to go on their hands and knees and start scrubbing – can you believe it? And no one stood up for them – no one!
Then, last week, a man who lives in the apartment upstairs was taken away by the authorities. He was such a nice man – Jewish of course. His wife has no idea where he’s been taken, but she fears it might be to a camp – perhaps the same one Viktor was in. Oh darling Leila, it frightened me very much. I spoke to a friend about it. Do you remember Emilia Becker? She was the dressmaker who made your wedding dress. She is a widow now, you know, and could tell how frightened I was. She suggested that we move in with her. Wasn’t that kind of her? She’s a Catholic so I think it was doubly brave of her. Anyway, I packed some clothes and we set off one morning, terrified we would be arrested on our way there. Your father didn’t want to go at all, and I had to pretend it was just for one night.
We have been here now for over a week, staying in her children’s old bedroom at the back of the apartment. Your darling father finds it all very confusing. He keeps asking, ‘Where are we, Hannah? Why can’t we go home?’ Emilia still sees clients in the sitting room, so when they visit we have to stay in our room. Last week, she had a visit from a woman married to a high-up in the Party. Your father wanted to make a cup of coffee, but he obviously couldn’t go to the kitchen while the woman was there. He kept trying to get out of the bedroom, and in the end I was forced to lock the door. Now, every time there is a visitor, I’m so scared we will give ourselves away, and bring both us and Emilia into danger.
You were right all those years ago when you pleaded with us to leave Germany, and now I wish we had done as you suggested. I fear we’ve left it too late, but I so want to get away. The problem is I have no idea how to go about it. I understand that we will need something called an ‘exit visa’ to leave the country. But how can we get one, locked up here in Emilia’s apartment?
Leila, darling, I feel so alone and frightened. Please help us and tell me what I should do.
All my love,
Mutti
Leila laid the letter down on the desk, gazed out at the garden and burst into tears.
‘Mutti…what’s the matter?’ She turned to see Sofia standing at the door with a basket of apples.
‘Read this,’ she said, handing her the letter. Sofia read it quickly. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. Poor Grandma and Grandpa,’ she said, holding her mother tightly. ‘What can we do to help?’
‘I don’t know, darling. But we must do something. My mother’s right – getting an exit visa will be almost impossible. While it’s still technically legal for Jews to leave Germany, they are at serious risk of being imprisoned as soon as they show their faces. Like the poor man who lived across the hall from Grandma – taken from his apartment and imprisoned…
‘And even if we managed to get them an exit visa, how do we get them physically out of the country? When the three of us left in ’35, we took a train to Switzerland, but it’s far more dangerous now. I met a young Hungarian woman in London recently who had managed to get out just before the war began. In spite of having all her papers in order, guards still tried to force her off the train as they approached the border. It was only the pleading of a kind German doctor that persuaded the guards to let her leave.’
