CHAPTER FOUR
SOPHIA
BERLIN, GERMANY
LATE 1942
Two days after she’d rescued the young Jewish man, Sophia checked her skirt in the mirror and did a silly little twirl for Alex. He was sitting on her bed watching her, and the upturn of his lips made her grin straight back at him. She’d smuggled their visitor out during the night, to be passed to another person working within their secret network, so it was just the two of them in her apartment now.
‘I wish you were taking me out,’ she said, sighing and running her hands down the fabric to smooth it. ‘Lunch, a walk in the sunshine, anything but this.’
‘Is that all you wish for?’ he said with a laugh. ‘I’m wishing you were taking that skirt off instead of putting it on.’
Sophia swatted at him when he reached for her, loving his playfulness. Joking with him like this took her mind off everything else that was going on, especially the worry of not knowing whether their young visitor would ever make it out of the country alive.
‘Sophia, come here,’ Alex said, standing and holding out his hands.
Sophia took the few steps back towards him and let him hold her. He touched one palm to her cheek, the other pressed to her hand.
‘I can’t wait to marry you.’
She smiled, her heart beating so fast it sounded like a drum thumping away inside of her.
‘Me too,’ she said without hesitation. ‘But not here. I don’t know, but maybe we should start over somewhere else when we get the chance?’
‘So long as we’re together,’ he said, and kissed her lips. ‘And you’re my wife.’
Sophia wished she could stay tucked up in the apartment with him all day, but she needed to go. Her mother missed her terribly, and Sophia missed her just as much. She was looking forward to seeing her even if it was only for a short time. One day she’d tell her mother everything she’d done, and she knew without a doubt how proud she’d be.
She gave Alex one final, lingering kiss and then went to gather her things. Today she was playing the part of a perfect Nazi daughter. Her mother would see right through it and be smiling secretly to herself, but to the rest of the world she was her father’s delightful Jew-hating daughter.
She stopped in front of Hitler’s portrait, the only thing she hated about her otherwise beautifully furnished apartment.
‘You are an evil, vile little man,’ she whispered, childishly poking out her tongue at him and making Alex laugh. She hadn’t realised he was still watching her, his eyes trained on her from where he stood by the bed.
‘A vile pig,’ Alex added. ‘Although, that could be a mean thing to say. I mean, there are probably lovely pigs out there in the world.’
‘Stay safe,’ she whispered, and blew him a kiss. ‘And stay hidden. Promise?’
He pretended to catch her kiss, pressing it to his cheek and being as silly as ever.
‘Promise,’ he replied.
Sophia slipped out and locked the door. She stood for a moment, gathering her thoughts, catching her breath. Sometimes she wondered if Alex collapsed to the ground after she left and cried; sobbed for what he’d lost and the pain of being stuck in one place for so many months. It was like a jail cell for him in there. She knew there was only so much any person could take, and one day she worried he’d reach that point and go stark raving mad.
She set off to catch the train, exhausted from the night before and knowing she had big circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. There was only so much she could do with make-up, but these days she was far less interested in being the glamourous heiress she’d once been, and more interested in making a difference. Maybe it would all be for nothing, everything she’d done, but at least she could say she’d tried.
Sophia walked down the road later that day, liking the freedom of taking her time and making her own way to the house from the train station. Their estate wasn’t far – it had taken her only half an hour of walking in the sunshine, and she’d enjoyed soaking up the sun as she strolled. With everything that was happening, sometimes it was the simple act of being alone in the fresh air that let her clear her mind. She smiled, thinking about her mother; it had been hard being parted, and for some reason her mother had become reluctant to leave the countryside, so it had been a long time since she’d come to Sophia’s apartment in Berlin.
She started up the driveway, her forehead slightly clammy from her stroll in the sun. It was moments like this that she felt alive, could imagine living in a world that was free of the evil she was so tired of seeing with her own eyes. She remembered the first time she’d come home to visit, when she’d first begun studying at university in the city.
‘Sophia,’ her mother said, a warm hand touching her daughter’s shoulder before stroking her long blonde hair. ‘It’s so good to have you home.’
Sophia turned and smiled at her mother. She still remembered how elegant she’d looked with her hair falling over her shoulder. Her father had always called her his beautiful French wife, so proud of her, and Sophia had always hoped she shared some of her mother’s elegance.
‘Is Father well?’ Sophia asked. She’d been staying in Berlin with her aunt at the time and wondered how in her absence her mother had become so thin, her cheeks so hollow.
‘Of course,’ her mother replied. ‘Your father is happy supporting our wonderful Führer.’
Sophia heard the sarcasm in her tone. ‘You can’t talk like that,’ she whispered, keeping one hand on her mother’s arm. ‘You need to be more careful.’
Her father had never raised a hand to her, had always been so kind to both her and her mother, but now everything had changed. He had sworn to put his country before his family, and that meant abiding by everything their leader believed in, no matter what his wife’s private thoughts might be.
‘I am careful. It’s only with you that I let my guard down.’ Her mother took her hand. ‘Can I let my guard down with you, Sophia?’
‘What’s wrong, Mama?’ Sophia asked as her mother took her hand, stroking her thumb across her skin.
‘We must never forget what’s in our hearts,’ her mother said in a low voice. ‘Do whatever you have to do to survive, I will never judge you for saving yourself, but don’t ever lose faith in who you really are.’
Sophia gulped. She knew what she was being told because she’d always known that her mother didn’t agree with her father’s unwavering allegiance to the Nazi Party. It wasn’t that her mother had ever said it outright before, but Sophia had seen her look away, seen her shudder as if her skin was crawling, watched as she had mumbled when before she would have spoken her opinions loudly for all to hear.
‘Does Father know?’ she asked. ‘How you feel? What you think?’
‘No.’ Her mother shook her head. ‘Of course not.’
‘So all those times, all those parties we’ve had here and all the times you’ve smiled and been the hostess and . . .’ Sophia could see her mother, dressed in beautiful gowns and dripping in jewels, laughing and smiling, kissing Goebbels on the cheek, blowing kisses to Adolf Hitler’s portrait when she was in front of a crowd. All for show. She’d always wondered, and now she knew for sure.
‘Mama?’
Her mother was blinking away tears and she gripped Sophia’s hand more tightly. ‘I’m telling you this because I gave all our servants the morning off and your father isn’t here. We must never, ever talk of this again, Sophia, but I needed you to know how I feel. Do you understand?’
Sophia’s hand shook as she took it from her mother’s, so she quickly wrapped both arms around her, holding her tight. Her mother was everything to her. Her friends had been raised by their nannies, comforted by someone other than their own mother, but not Sophia. She was her mother’s only daughter, and she had seen how kind-hearted she was, how caring, on a first-hand basis all her life. Of course she didn’t believe in stripping their Jewish friends of their citizenship, their businesses and their homes! So many of their friends, families she’d known since she was a girl, had disappeared now, fleeing for France or wherever else they could escape to.
‘What’s happening to them? What have the Nazis turned us all into?’ Sophia whispered. ‘How can they be so cruel to other humans?’
‘It’s happened ever since man was created,’ her mother replied. ‘And it will continue to happen until people are brave enough to stand up for what they believe in, no matter what the consequences.’
‘I saw a sign, in a coffee shop in the city. It said “Jews Forbidden”,’ Sophia whispered, choking on the words. ‘I was standing there staring at it, and someone muttered as they passed about it being high time that they kept them out. Then another street over, the Jewish shops were vandalised, the shopkeepers’ goods set alight in the street like a fun bonfire.’
‘What did you do?’
Sophia folded her hands into her lap and dug her fingernails into her palms. ‘I said nothing,’ she admitted. ‘I wanted to scream at them and hit someone, but I swallowed it down and said nothing. I watched’ – she sucked back a breath, blinking away tears – ‘and did absolutely nothing.’
‘Good,’ her mother praised.
‘Good? I was a coward!’ she muttered, meeting her mother’s gaze. ‘I wanted to stop it, I wanted to do something, but . . .’
‘But you can’t. Not yet.’ She watched her mother’s shoulders rise then fall. ‘You are no good to anyone dead or in prison, and that’s what would happen to both of us if anyone knew we didn’t support the Nazi Party and Hitler.’
‘I would have shot them, Mama,’ she said, tears that she refused to let fall burning in her eyes. ‘If I’d had a gun, I would have shot them simply for laughing like that. For thinking it’s normal for men in uniform to treat other people this way!’
‘They are hypnotised by that little man,’ her mother said quietly. ‘I’ve seen it time and again, the way their eyes glaze over and their brains become foggy as they salute him and absorb his words. He is good at talking, I’ll give him that.’
They sat in silence, the only noise the chirp of birdsong outside the window.
‘Is it wrong that I still love Father so much? Even though he is a part of this?’
Her mother shook her head, her smile sad. ‘No, my love, it’s not. He’s your father, and if he didn’t support Hitler then who knows what would have happened to us by now? That man has poisoned him as he has almost every other man, woman and child out there.’
Sophia did love her father. He had always been kind and loving to her, shown her so much warmth and respect, but to know that he was involved with what was going on, that he could be directly issuing orders that ruined the lives of so many Jewish people?
‘You must never say anything to him, never challenge him or give anyone reason to think that you don’t support Hitler implicitly.’
Sophia swallowed. ‘I know.’
‘I’m proud of you, Sophia. So proud.’
They embraced again and her mother stood, tears that she didn’t bother to dab away shining in her eyes.
‘What do we do now?’ Sophia asked.
‘We pretend everything is fine, and know in our hearts that we hate Hitler and what he does with every bone in our bodies.’ She sighed. ‘What of Alexander? Have you heard from him or his family lately?’
Sophia slowly filled her lungs, not sure whether this was the right moment to tell her mother that only a week earlier she’d snuck out to see him. She’d never told her mother they were more than friends, but Sophia was certain that she’d guessed. Part of her had always wondered if her mother didn’t want to know, simply so she couldn’t be accused of hiding it from her husband if she was ever questioned.
‘He’s still in Berlin,’ she said. ‘I’m hoping his family might leave soon.’
‘They should. I wish we could somehow click our fingers and transport them all to somewhere safe. Only the Nazis hate the Jews so vehemently, Sophia. Only the Germans.’
‘I know.’
‘If you love him, then don’t stop. Promise me you won’t stop loving him because of who he is?’
‘I promise,’ she whispered in reply.
‘But don’t ever tell your father about him, will you? I don’t even want him to know you were ever friends with him. He would never forgive you.’ Her mother’s voice was husky, deeper than usual. ‘He could have awful things done to Alex’s family, Sophia. Things I don’t ever want to imagine happening to someone we know.’
‘I understand.’
The gravel crunched beneath Sophia’s shoes and she looked up to the big house ahead of her, memories fading. She always struggled with the clash of thoughts inside her mind and today was no different; growing up, her home had been full of laughter and love, but it all seemed so fraudulent now. How her father could have been so kind to her, so gentle and full of praise, astounded her when it was so at odds with the man he’d become. Not to her, but to others. She hoped that once this was over he’d reflect and realise the wrongs he’d done.
She saw someone running up ahead, darting out of the house and screaming something. Sophia squinted and tried to hear. Was that Greta? The woman had worked in their home for years, had been very loyal to her mother and kept the house running despite the shortages and loss of staff. Sophia started to walk faster, then broke into a run.
‘Greta!’ she called out. ‘Greta! What’s wrong?’
‘No!’ Greta screamed, running full steam towards her now. ‘Go! You can’t be here.’
Sophia slowed before she crashed straight into the other woman. She was crying, her eyes red and swollen, so puffy that Sophia could tell she’d been upset for some time. She wrapped her arms around her to hold her, but Greta pushed back, her face full of terror.
‘Sophia, you must go. Your father, if he sees you, if . . .’
‘What is it, Greta? What’s got you so upset?’
Why would her father not want to see her?
She looked at the house, heard men shouting and wondered what it was that Greta was so scared of. Sophia started to walk, had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that she shouldn’t run away, that she needed to see what was going on in her home.
‘No!’ Greta yelled, snatching at her hand and holding her tight around the wrist.
‘Tell me what’s going on or I’ll find out for myself,’ Sophia snapped, struggling to pull her arm away.
‘Sophia, it’s your mother. She’s . . .’
Sophia felt like all the blood had drained from her face, her entire body frozen as she stood and stared at Greta. Something terrible had happened, she knew it.
‘My mother?’ she managed to splutter.
‘She’s been hiding Jews,’ Greta said. ‘All this time, she was hiding them right under your father’s nose, in the cellar. He thinks we all must have known but we didn’t!’
Sophia yanked her hand away and ran, her arms pumping at her sides as she dropped her bag and sped as fast as she could to the house. The front door was still wide open from when Greta had burst out, and she kept moving, straight through the entrance, skidding on the floor as hands reached out at her – soldiers surprised to see her come bolting towards them.
‘Let me go!’ she screamed, slapping at their hands and breaking free, not about to let them hold her in her own home.
She could see outside, could see men standing on the lawn, surrounded by beautifully manicured hedges. Sophia pushed the door open and fell out on to the patio, staring at them, wondering what they were all looking at. Walking now, she moved across the grass, her shoes sinking into the soft ground.
‘Get her out of here!’ a deep male voice commanded.
She saw her father then, watched his mouth moving, saw soldiers rushing towards her, and she looked up. First she saw shoes, then legs.
She tried to scream but it died in her mouth, and all that came out was a gurgling noise. They were strung up by their necks, nooses connecting them to the tree. An entire family. There was a woman, a man, two little children and . . .
‘No!’ she screamed as the soldiers caught her and her legs buckled. ‘No! Father, no!’
Her mother was there too, standing on tiptoe on a wooden crate. Why was her mother there? Why was her beautiful, kind mother connected to the tree? What was he doing to her?
‘No!’ she screamed again. ‘Get her down! Take her down from there!’
‘Do it,’ she heard her father snarl. ‘And let this be a lesson to anyone hiding Jews. There will be no exceptions made!’
Sophia drooped, forcing her eyes to stay open as she saw the crates kicked out from beneath the prisoners, watched her mother struggle, her fingers frantically clawing at the rope around her neck. The two children stopped moving first, then their parents, but it was her mother who struggled the longest.
‘Let me go!’ Sophia sobbed, trying to stand, doing her best to push them away.
‘Let my daughter go,’ her father said, storming over to her, not seeming to care that he’d just murdered her own mother in front of her.
‘Did you know?’ he demanded, grabbing hold of her arm and yanking her to her feet, fingers curled tight against her skin.
‘Know what?’ she mumbled, tears still streaming down her cheeks. ‘What have you done? Why?’
‘Your mother was a Jew lover. All this time she’s been keeping them here, under my nose, in my own home!’ His face was red, eyes bulging, veins standing to attention across his forehead. ‘Your traitor mother made a fool of me!’
She stood taller, using her one free hand to wipe the tears from her face and look her father in the eyes.
‘I will never forgive you. How could you kill her? How could you?’
Sophia broke free and tried to run to her, wanting to touch her, get her down and hold her lifeless body. But she was pulled away, the soldiers quick to capture her.
‘If I find out you or anyone else has been doing the same . . . ,’ her father started.
‘What? You’ll kill your own daughter, too?’ she screamed at him.
He didn’t need to answer her. He’d been married to her mother for three decades, and he hadn’t hesitated in hanging her beside the poor family she must have fought so hard to conceal. How could she not have known her own mother was doing the very same thing as she? Risking her life to save others? No wonder she’d refused to visit the city!
Sophia collapsed on to the steps. She stayed perfectly still and waited for the men to forget about her. She blocked out their mutterings and laughter, filled with enough fury already without listening to their hateful words. Her tears had disappeared, though she knew they were only frozen for later. With her fists curled tight and her chin thrust up, she sat there, refusing to look at her mother. She couldn’t bear to see her face like that, her head at such an unnatural tilt.
Sophia took a deep breath and finally stood, her entire body shaking, and slowly walked towards her mother without making a sound. She bent her head, whispered a prayer and stood on tiptoe to reach for her hand.
‘I love you, Mother. I’m so proud of you,’ she whispered. ‘We’ll see each other again. I promise.’
Sophia quickly slipped her mother’s rings from her fingers, thankful they were slightly loose. She put them straight on to her own fingers before anyone saw what she was doing, head down like any normal grieving daughter.
‘God bless you all,’ she murmured to the family. ‘May you all rest in peace.’
She thought of her mother, so bravely hiding them in her own home. How long had they been here? How many times had her mother been bursting to tell her but not been able to? All the time Sophia had imagined confessing to her that Alex was hiding in her apartment, her mother had held her own secret. Sophia’s own fear of her mother knowing, of putting her in a position of having something to hide, had always stopped her, and now she was certain it had been the same for her mother, too.
‘Get her away from them!’ her father yelled out. ‘How many times do you need to be told?’
Sophia heard the order and voluntarily moved away, shaking her head and putting out her hand before anyone had to take her. ‘Leave me alone! I will go to my room.’
She hurried past, letting her tears fall now as she turned her back on her mother and fled. She entered the house in a hurry, eyes blurred, and dashed up the stairs. Voices called out to her, but she ignored them and hurried to her mother’s room. She allowed herself a moment to pause at the mirror, reaching for her mother’s perfume and spraying a quick mist on to her wrist. She’d smelt it all her life, would for ever be able to conjure that scent and think of her mother holding her close.
She shut her eyes, letting the aroma waft around her. She could still remember her mother singing, getting herself ready for the day and staring down at their grounds from her window. Sophia had often walked up beside her and pressed her forehead to the glass, looking down at birds bathing in a fountain at the entrance to their garden. She remembered thinking that from her mother’s window, everything seemed so normal still. In their home, the only thing that had changed was the portrait of Adolf Hitler hanging in the hallway, the Führer’s face staring solemnly at them when they passed.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as the memory of her mother faded, replaced with the sinister image of what she’d just witnessed. Sophia saw a handkerchief and stood, reaching for it and spraying her mother’s perfume all over it and then tucking it into her blouse for safekeeping. Then she rummaged in her mother’s jewellery case, taking her other rings and diamonds, pushing them into her pocket and hurriedly looking around. There was a scarf on the bed and she snatched it, then took her mother’s best warm coat from the closet. It wasn’t much, but it might be the only chance she would get to take what she needed. She couldn’t find any money, but the items she had would be enough if she needed something to sell at least.
She dug her nails into her palms as she fled the room, the weight of her mother’s rings her only comfort. Then she quietly walked down the stairs again, careful to behave sedately in case anyone saw her. Only once she’d disappeared out the front door and saw that no one was around did she start to walk faster. She hurried away, grabbing her bag from where she’d dropped it, until she was out on the road. She was carrying her mother’s coat, too hot and flustered to wear it now, and although she wanted to run she didn’t want to draw any attention to herself. She needed to get home and figure out what on earth she could do about Alex. If he was found because of her, she’d never forgive herself.