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The women stood up quietly, wiping their eyes and noses, putting handkerchiefs away in bags, tying headscarves on heads – trying to put on a show of dignity, refusing to be bullied by the guards.
Leila glanced across at Charlotte, who smiled back bravely. But instead of leaving straight away, Leila placed her hands on the table where Viktor’s hands had just been, almost as if she wanted to absorb some part of him.
‘Shall we go?’ whispered Charlotte.
But Leila’s legs refused to cooperate. Part of her was desperate to get out of this place, and home to the children, but another part wanted to stay there until they let her see Viktor again. She wanted to scream: ‘Take me prisoner too – let us at least be together.’ But she kept quiet. They would only ignore her, and in any case, what use could she be locked away? Who would care for the children then?
Charlotte took her arm. ‘Come on…’
Leila, her face streaming with tears, finally allowed herself to be led towards the door.
When they reached their cars, Leila hugged Charlotte tightly. ‘I’m so glad you were here today. I’m not sure I could have coped alone.’
‘I know…’ whispered Charlotte.
‘As you said…we must just stay strong and have hope. That’s really all we can do.’
26
BERLIN
Christmas 1933
Minki was sitting at the kitchen table early one morning, writing a list of jobs for the staff, when Max joined her for breakfast. They were hosting a special Christmas dinner party that night, and the guests of honour were Joseph Goebbels and his wife Magda.
‘It’s quite a coup to get the golden couple,’ Max said, as he poured himself a cup of coffee. ‘Goebbels’ social circle is rather less ecumenical these days. He and Magda normally only dine with really important people.’
‘Well, he obviously thinks you’re a “really important person”,’ said Minki, with just a hint of sarcasm. But Max missed the sneer, hearing only approbation.
‘That’s kind, darling, but he’s very fond of you too, you know. He was surprised when I told him you’d given up working at theDeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung– you know he has always thought you had great talent as a journalist.’
Minki had never revealed the true nature of her job at the newspaper and was determined it wouldn’t come out now. ‘That’s very kind of him, I’m sure. But, as I told you when I left the job back in May – it seemed to me that writing a column about how to run a house properly was less important than actually doing it myself…do you want something to eat?’
‘Yes…just some bread, and maybe a boiled egg.’
Minki passed the bread basket, and cracked a hard-boiled egg onto Max’s plate. ‘In any case,’ she went on, ‘I really don’t miss working. Taking care of Clara is far more important.’
Clara, who was nearly two years old, had turned into a bright, cheerful child with boundless energy. She was a quick learner too, and much to Minki’s delight was already speaking in simple sentences, and had even mastered her alphabet.
‘I’m pleased, obviously, that you find motherhood so fulfilling,’ said Max, buttering his bread. ‘All I meant was that Goebbels thinks you have talent. He would have loved you to work on his own paper.’
‘Yes…so he’s often said. But I can’t see myself working for him. One sycophant in this house is quite enough, don’t you think?’
Her cutting remark took Max by surprise. ‘I hope you’ll keep opinions like that to yourself this evening, Minki.’
‘Of course, Max. I’ll be the perfect hostess, don’t worry.’
‘Good,’ he said, pouring himself another cup of coffee. ‘On that subject – I’ve done a seating plan for the table.’ He pulled a piece of paper from his inside jacket pocket, and laid it between them on the table. ‘I’d be grateful if you could stick to it…it’s all rather strategic.’
To her irritation, Minki saw that Max had placed her next to Goebbels. ‘Are you sure Joe should sit next to me? There must be more interesting people he’d rather talk to?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Minki. It’s your place as hostess to have Joseph on your right. Besides, the key guest, from Joseph’s point of view, is sitting on your left…he’s a scientist called Professor Staemmler. Goebbels has important business with him.’
‘I see,’ said Minki, picking up her list of jobs and the table plan. ‘Well, if there’s nothing else, I’d better go and sort out the dining room…there’s a lot to do.’
The dining room was oak-panelled, topped by a sparkling chandelier. Lena, the housemaid, had already laid a white linen cloth on the long table, and arranged silver vases and candlesticks along the centre.
‘Christmas roses would be nice in those vases, I think,’ said Minki. ‘Can you pick some from the garden?’
