Page 3 of The Berlin Sisters
She also knew that she’d never, ever forget the image she’d just seen either, of a pretty university student with her head in a guillotine, awaiting death simply for telling others what she thought, for disobeying the Nazi regime.
If that was the punishment for thinking the wrong thing, what could happen to her father if his theft was discovered? A high-ranking officer who was trusted by Hitler himself? From the time she’d joined the Jungmädelbund as a twelve-year-old, she had known her duty; the summer camps, ice creams and camaraderie might have been fun, but even as a girl she’d understood that the Young Girls’ League served a purpose. They were all to obey and follow the lessons of the Nazi Party, even if that meant turning on one’s own parents, even if it meant turning in a sister or a close friend for suspected treason. Even if it meant renouncing someone because they were a Jew.
Ava locked the safe and walked quickly from the room, her hands trembling properly now, not stopping until she was doubledover the toilet in the restroom down the hall, purging her stomach of everything she’d consumed that day as her entire body shook.
And when she returned to the office, her nausea only increased. Because Lina was standing beside her desk, her eyes red and puffy from crying as two SS men searched her handbag and pulled out her desk drawers, emptying the contents on to the floor. Ava put her head down and walked quickly back to her seat, not certain what to do but deciding that the best thing was to resume her work and pretend as if nothing was out of the ordinary. But she couldn’t help the tears that pricked her eyes as Lina was escorted from the office, as the rest of them continued to type, all too scared to look up or say goodbye. As if their friend and colleague hadn’t just been taken right in front of them.For something that she hadn’t done.
When Ava looked around the room, no one met her gaze, and with shaky hands she began to work on the document Goebbels had given her. She’d been worried about her father, but what would they do to Lina? Surely they would realise that she’d had nothing to do with the missing paper, that she was nothing like the Sophie Scholl girl?
‘She deserved it,’ Greta muttered.
‘What a traitor,’ said one of the others.
Tears pricked Ava’s eyes. She’d thought these women were her friends, that they’d been Lina’s friends too, but instead of believing in her, they seemed to have no qualms about what had happened right before their eyes. Lina was no traitor, but to prove her innocence Ava would have to renounce her father, which meant that there was nothing she could do to save her colleague from whatever punishment she now faced.
Which perhaps made her no better than the righteous women seated on either side of her.
A man cleared his throat in front of her then, and Ava looked up, surprised to see someone standing there. She’d been so lost in thought, she hadn’t even noticed.
Ava blinked at Herr Frowein, one of Goebbels’ personal advisors, who was watching her. ‘Dr Goebbels has requested that you commence transcribing his diary each afternoon, now that Fräulein Becker is no longer employed by the ministry. You are to be his private secretary until further notice.’
She gulped. ‘Of course, it would be my honour.’ Itwasan honour, of course it was an honour. Two hours earlier, she would have been delighted with the promotion. She was being silly fretting about Lina; surely she would simply be questioned before resuming her work at the ministry.
A shiver ran down Ava’s spine.
If it’s such an honour, why do I suddenly feel sick to my stomach at the thought?
Chapter Two
THEMÜLLERESTATE, BOGENSEE, GERMANY
CHRISTMASEVE, 1943
Ava stepped out of the car when her father came around to open the door of the shiny, dark green Mercedes. They’d travelled most of the way in silence, other than exchanging the odd pleasantry or when he’d been speaking to his chauffeur. Now, her father was leaning into the car to tell his driver that he was to return to his family for the night, which surprised her. Usually his chauffeur would wait in case her father needed him, but she supposed it was Christmas, and he wanted to give him the evening off work to celebrate the holiday.
She stood outside for a moment and stared at the house, feeling a familiar flutter in her stomach at being back. Her parents referred to it as the country house, but to Ava and her sister Hanna it had always simply been home. She loved that it was far enough away from the city that it felt like a holiday location, but close enough that they could still return if needed, and the house itself was magnificent, set in a forest that had proved perfect for endless hours of make-believe when she was a child. It was the type of place in which she wanted to raise her own family, a big family that would fill every room with happiness and laughter.
‘It’s good to be here, isn’t it?’ her father said, striding past her and carrying a bag in each hand. ‘I wish I spent more time here instead of being stuck in the city.’
‘Yes, Papa,’ she said as she hurried after him. ‘It’s very good to be home.’
She’d held her tongue for the entire journey from Berlin, which had taken well over an hour, unable to think of anything other than the incident on the day previous. She’d been beside herself, wanting to ask him about Lina, but to do that, she would have to admit what she’d seen. Now they were home, though, her mind turned to other things, such as the delicious smell of baking wafting down the hallway, and seeing her mama again after weeks apart.
Ava barely acknowledged their maid, Zelda, as she hurried through to the kitchen, seeing her mother and sister with their blonde heads bent, both with rolling pins in hand. She darted towards them, not wanting to miss a moment of them all being together, and wishing to be part of whatever they were talking about. Before taking the job at the ministry, she’d come home often, but now there never seemed enough hours in the day.
‘Mama!’ she cried, opening her arms as her mother, Liselotte, immediately stopped what she was doing. ‘I’m home!’
Ava kissed her cheek and hugged her, despite her mother’s protest that she was covered in flour and would get it all over her.
‘Hanna,’ Ava said then, grinning at her sister and turning her full attention to her.
‘Just in time to help us with the second batch of cookies,’ Hanna said, beckoning her over and holding up her hands, as if to explain why she couldn’t embrace her. ‘We’ve been hoping you’d arrive in time to help.’
‘Let me wash my hands and join you,’ Ava said, feeling like a child again, her excitement over Christmas baking impossible to disguise. ‘What shapes are we making?’
She scrubbed her hands quickly with soap, before turning around, realising that both her mother and Hanna were silent.
‘Little Christmas trees or—’
