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‘All right. But surely Minki, a marriage shouldn’t start off with secrets.’
Minki glared at her friend. ‘It’s my marriage and I’ll handle it my own way.’
‘Of course, of course,’ said Leila hurriedly. ‘I just meant…oh, never mind. I’m sure you’ll be very happy.’
Driving back to Berlin later that afternoon, Minki reflected on Leila’s advice. She was sure that Leila and Viktor had no secrets from one another. Whereas a part of her past would always be hidden from Max – he simply didn’t need to know she had ever been pregnant.
Back in Berlin, Minki adjusted to the idea of being engaged and getting married, but it occurred to her that her old lover Joseph Goebbels might not be so enthusiastic. How would he react to the news of her impending nuptials? He had always made his claim on Minki rather obvious. And while she knew he wasn’t interested in marrying her, she worried he might perversely be annoyed that another man had finally claimed her.
She rang him one afternoon and invited herself over that evening. ‘I have some good news, Joseph. Can I come and see you?’
Goebbels was surprisingly friendly. ‘Of course. Come after work, about seven.’
Arriving at his apartment, the pair embraced, and Goebbels took her coat. ‘Come through to the living room – we can talk there.’
Passing his study, Minki noticed an attractive dark-haired woman seated at his desk.
‘Who’s the new secretary?’ Minki whispered.
‘She’s not a secretary,’ he replied sternly, ushering her into the sitting room and closing the door. ‘Her name is Magda Quandt, and she is here to help me sort out my papers.’
‘Well, she’s very beautiful,’ said Minki, settling herself on a sofa.
Goebbels smiled. ‘Do you think so? I agree – she is lovelier than any woman I’ve ever met. Even you, my dear Minki.’
‘Joseph! I think you might be a little in love with your new paper sorter.’
Goebbels blushed slightly as he sat down.
‘Your silence speaks volumes,’ said Minki. ‘If I’m honest, I hope you are a little in love with her, because it will make what I’m about to say much easier.’
Goebbels leaned forward eagerly. ‘Go on…’
‘I’m engaged to Max. I hope you’ll be happy for us.’
‘Dear Max…of course, I couldn’t be any happier. You’ll make a marvellous couple. Congratulations, my dear. As it happens, I have an idea that Max might be helpful to us one day – in the Party.’
‘Doing what?’
‘His skills will come in very useful as we take the German people with us. Film, you know, is a marvellous medium for propaganda.’ Goebbels smiled quietly.
‘But Max doesn’t do propaganda. He makes elegant, exciting films.’
‘Precisely…Now he can do both.’
It was a beautiful spring day; the air was heady with the fragrance of daffodils and early blossom as Minki and Max emerged, smiling, from the registry office. To cheers from their guests, Max kissed his bride, before driving them back to his house near Potsdam for the reception.
As Leila and Viktor walked into the elegant drawing room, they each took a glass of champagne from a silver tray. ‘I can’t see anyone I recognise,’ murmured Leila, searching the crowd for a familiar face. ‘It’s a shame the countess isn’t here…she was such an important figure in Minki’s life when we were young.’
‘People drift apart,’ replied Viktor sagely. ‘Minki looks happy though…’
Leila had to agree. The bride, wearing a close-fitting dress of white duchesse satin, radiated happiness. Flitting between guests, she kissed cheeks, laughing gaily.
Finally catching sight of her best friend, she raced towards them, her arms outstretched. ‘Leila, Viktor – how wonderful to see you, and so good of you to come all this way. Now, who can I introduce you to?’ She surveyed the room, before lowering her voice to a whisper. ‘I’m afraid most of the guests are rather dull business associates of Max. But my father’s here…do you remember him, Leila?’
‘Yes, we met a couple of times when you and I were at university.’
‘Well, come and chat to him. He doesn’t know a soul, and would so like to see a familiar face.’
