Her jaw dropped open. She almost cried out, spontaneously, ‘What! No! Are you mad!’ but managed to suppress the words and close her mouth. She only stared, speechless.

He waited, gazed fixed on her. In her peripheral vision she became aware of a stillness in the room; waiters gathering near the door to the kitchen. Watching, waiting. Time, suspended.

The world held its breath and waited. Her own breath was trapped inside her, unable to escape.

And then, from some deep place within her, Jacques’ voice, his impassioned cry: ‘For Alsace! For France! For me!’

Her breath broke, it rushed from her, carrying the word of release: ‘Yes!’

And the silence split open, and the tension, and the room erupted: the waiters clapped, the other guests cheered and raised glasses. Von Haagen sprang to his feet, reached for her hands, pulled her up and clasped her to himself, his face alight with unmitigated joy. Then he let her go, clapped, and cried: ‘She said yes! Champagne! Bring the champagne!’

The next few minutes brought a flurry of activity as Sibyl and von Haagen sat down again and a beaming waiter ran up with the champagne and glass flutes. Von Haagen released the cork which flew across the room and the golden liquid quelled up and spilled to the floor and everyone laughed as he filled the two flutes and he and Sibyl raised their glasses, clinked them, and von Haagen cried: ‘To us! To Victory! To Peace!’

Around the room other uniformed Germans raised their glasses and cried out in echo but the cry that went up was not To Victory! To Peace! but Sieg, Heil! And Sibyl, behind the smile she offered her brand-new fiancé, collected all her strength to not break down with the secret lament rising to her throat and struggling to be heard above the clamour: Oh Lord, what have I done?

They drank, and von Haagen’s smile melted in a second. Though his gaze still clung to her; it was an oddly altered gaze, the unalloyed delight of pre-toast changed into something doubtful, questioning, insecure. He said nothing but she could tell he wanted to speak.

‘What is it, Wolfgang?’

‘Marlene. You have made me the happiest man in the world. You must know that.’

Yet the doubt that clouded his words was palpable. She smiled to reassure him.

‘I’m glad to hear that.’

‘I know – I do know – that my love is not yet reciprocated. I can feel that you don’t love me yet. That perhaps, even, you are marrying me for convenience. I don’t mind. Love can grow if there is mutual respect and, and the will to love, and I have every faith that you will learn to love me. I am not a bad man, Marlene. I am not a bad man.’

And then, before she could formulate an appropriate reply, his eyes turned moist as tears gathered, and he closed them and still the tears spilled out and his face crunched with the vain effort of holding them back. But he couldn’t.

‘Oh Christ!’ the cry escaped his lips and he buried his face in his hands.

Sibyl reached out, touched his hand.

‘Wolfgang! What is it? Tell, me, please!’

Words burst from him. ‘I’m ruined. I’m ruined. Everything is ruined. It could have been perfect. You, me, our home, our family. All ruined. It’s all over. Finished. It’s a catastrophe.’

‘What do you mean, Wolfgang? Tell me, please!’

He dabbed his eyes with his napkin and looked around the room. People had lost interest in them, continuing with their own meals. The well-dressed couple had left. Waiters were gliding here and there, serving wine and dessert. Nobody was watching. Yet still he lowered his voice.

‘Marlene – let’s slide down a bit further. Into the corner. I want to tell you something.’

He slid further back into the cubicle; she did the same. They ended up sitting side by side at the deepest end, out of sight of all the other diners. He took her hand, and when he spoke his voice was low.

‘Marlene, I’m going to tell you something only you can hear. It is a secret, you understand. But you are now my fiancée, the confidante of my heart. I know I can trust you.’

She nodded. ‘Of course, Wolfgang.’

‘It’s true, what I just said. We’re finished, Marlene. Germany is going to lose the war. The Allies have already reached the Ardennes. Most of France has been cleared of our forces, Belgium too. Paris has fallen! Paris! The very symbol of our domination! It is all a farce! We are near the end. We have been told falsehoods regarding Germany’s inevitable victory. It is all a myth, a terrible myth. We have been deceived!

‘Marlene, in Berlin I learned the truth. I spoke with generals who told me the reality of our situation. They are trying to tell Hitler but he won’t listen; when they tell him the truth he shouts them down. He is an ugly man, Marlene, an ugly man. And mad! Off his head, some of the generals are saying!

‘Marlene, my beloved, do you realise what all this means? So much death, Marlene, so much devastation. Europe in ruins. And it’s not over yet. Marlene, my dearest: the war is coming to Alsace. Alsace is now part of Germany and Hitler is determined to keep it that way, whatever the cost. Even if France has fallen, even if Paris has fallen: Hitler needs to keep Alsace. That was why he called this catastrophic meeting in Berlin. It is to let us know that Alsace is to be the fiercest battle of all. We must never surrender Alsace, he said. We must fight to the death! Never retreat! He lambasted the rest of his army, called them cowards, because they retreated. That must not happen in Alsace, he said. He sacked some of his most loyal generals. And he told us how we can keep Alsace. He’s stripped away badly needed units from the Eastern Front, he’s combed the Reich for all the manpower he can find to bring his battered formations in the West up to strength. He’s also hoarded precious fuel and Panzers. And it’s all top, top secret so as to surprise the enemy. Alsace, he says, will be the last stand and it must be a glorious victory.

‘He’s already assembled a strike force of unbelievable strength; the enemy hasn’t seen such powerful German forces for years! It’s already started in the Ardennes with the Operation Wacht am Rhein but it will proceed into the Vosges and then to Strasbourg and Colmar. We’re going to send the finest and fiercest troops into the Vosges. That’s what he’s done. Kept the best for the last. Alsace is a matter of pride for him; even if all else is lost, Alsace must remain German. And I will tell you something else. This is top secret, Marlene. You understand.’

‘Of course.’

‘I met Heinrich Himmler. You know who Himmler is?’

‘I’ve heard the name. I’m not quite sure…’

‘Hitler’s right-hand man; he’s head of the SS, the Sicherheitsdienst, the Gestapo. A man of extraordinary power and so – so dangerous, so evil – beyond words evil. I’ve only now found out the extent. Marlene, I don’t – I can’t – the things he said – I am devastated. A broken man. I’m so ashamed – so ashamed – to be a German – to know these things – what he has done – it’s happening right now – those people!’

He was close to collapsing in tears. Sibyl reached out and took his hand. He clasped it, kissed it, squeezed it.

‘I am so grateful that I have you, that you said yes, that you are mine, the other half of my heart. I have kept all this deep in my soul and it has almost killed me. I needed to tell someone, and I am so grateful that you listened, that you are listening. To things too dreadful to even believe. I heard rumours before but I did not believe them. Who could believe such terrible things, that Germany could do such terrible things? But it is not Germany. It’s Himmler. It is his idea, his plan. He calls it the final solution. But it is no solution, Marlene! It is a catastrophe! It is, it is – I can’t find the words even to describe the horror of it. And it has been confirmed. It is happening. It is real.’

‘I don’t understand… what’s happening? What’s real? What do you mean with final solution? Solution to what?’

‘To the Jewish problem.’

‘Oh… I see… and what is the solution, according to Himmler? I know that Hitler sends them to labour camps.’

Of course, she knew about Hitler’s obsession with Jews; the stories horrified her. Jacques’ sister and her Jewish sweetheart. Margaux’s maid Leah, having to escape, and Margaux’s work in harbouring Jews to be secretly sent to France. And, of course, on her own street: the violin-maker’s story. The Reichskristallnacht, the Night of Broken Glass, had made international headlines. Hitler’s rants, broadcasted around the world, in which he blamed Jews for all the world’s problems.

‘Labour camps? Labour camps? Do you know what those camps really are? They are death camps! They are systematically murdered! In their thousands!’

She listened, stunned, as von Haagen described Himmler’s plan for the clean and final eradication of all Jews from Germany, from Europe. His voice trembled as he spoke; he reached for her hand and clasped it as if it were a lifeline. He cried tears, he snorted into the serviette. Her shock turned her blood to ice. She could not believe it. It couldn’t be true.

‘It is true, Marlene. It is true. He showed us photos – with pride, bragging! He is proud of this solution! And I – I am devastated. As every honourable German should be. To think that…’

The room began to crackle. Someone had switched the radio on.

‘Here is Soldatensender Belgrad…’

Followed by the the yearning, nostalgic, melancholic crooning of Lale Andersen, singing the heartbreaking ballad of Lili Marlene.

---

‘I can’t stand it. I can’t. Come, let’s go.’ Von Haagen pushed away the table, edging himself free of it, held out his hand to help Sibyl slide out. He threw a wedge of Reichmarks on to the table, and practically pulled her to the door; outside, the motorcycle and sidecar were parked. She refused to get into the sidecar.

‘Wolfgang, stop, stop; let’s talk some more. I need to know… tell me… is it true? Are you sure?’

‘Yes, I am sure, absolutely sure. And I am devastated, ashamed; I am sorry I asked you to be my wife… now you know. How can I take you to live in a country that has done such things? How can you bear to accept me, a German?’

‘Wolfgang, please. It is not you who has done these things.’

‘But I am responsible. Every German is responsible. We gave this party, these people, that man, power. I am serving in the army. I am fighting to preserve such an evil regime. And there is nothing I can do about it. Marlene: I have been conscripted for field duty. Next week I am to join Army Group G under General Balck. Most of all, we are to ensure that Strasbourg stays in German hands. But, Marlene, the enemy forces there are so mighty. We must fight not only against the USA Seventh Army but against the French First army and the Free French Army. And they are strong. Marlene, I fear too strong. I do not know if we can hold Strasbourg. But it is what Hitler wants. He says we must fight unto death! Marlene, my precious: I must go and I do not know if I will survive this. It is perhaps a suicide mission. Morale is low among the Germans – I know mine is – and strong among the French. Marlene, I want you to promise one thing: pray for me!’

‘I will, Wolfgang. I will. I promise.’