Page 6 of The Berlin Sisters
‘Heil Hitler,’ her mother said, softly, in a way that was so different to the way the men in Ava’s office sounded when they said it.
‘Heil Hitler,’ Zelda said, at the same time as Ava whispered the words in reply.
She turned to watch her go, through the window, seeing Zelda brace herself against the bitterly cold wind. Her father took her by surprise when he came up behind her.
‘Ava,’ he said, his boots heavy against the timber floor.
‘Yes, Papa,’ she replied, turning to see him standing beside her mother.
‘I would like you to take a walk with me.’
‘Outside?’ She glanced back out the window, not particularly wishing to spend even a minute out there. Since when did they go outside in such conditions, and in the almost-dark?
‘The cold shall do us good,’ he said with a wink. ‘It’ll make us appreciate coming back into our warm home all the more.’
Her father might be kind, but he was also firm, and she knew better than to refuse a request.
‘Let me get my coat,’ she said, as her mama exchanged a glance with her father that was impossible not to notice.
Chapter Three
The evening air was so cold that Ava could see her breath puff in front of her in little clouds of white. Her father walked slowly beside her, their boots clomping against the hard-packed ground, silence stretching between them as they moved further away from the house. Everything appeared barren at this time of year, as if the cold wind had stripped the surrounding area of its beauty, with the exception of the pine trees in the nearby forest. Their bare trunks stretched tall and naked but, unlike the oaks, they retained their leaves year-round.
‘Ava,’ her father said, finally stopping and turning to her. ‘I believe you have something you wish to ask me.’
She took a deep breath, not sure if her face was burning from the chill in the air, or her embarrassment at being asked what had so clearly been stretching like a void between them. She opened her mouth, not saying anything for a moment as she stared back at her father. Did he truly want her to ask, or was he going to berate her for the words waiting on her lips?
‘May I speak freely?’ she finally asked.
He gestured to their surroundings. ‘We can say anything here. It’s one of the few places we don’t have to mind our words, so please, ask me. It’s why I brought you out here.’
She wondered then if that was why her father often walked after dinner with her mother, because out in the countryside, meandering through the forest, was the one place they could talk to one another without fear of someone overhearing. She’d heard rumours of listening devices being placed, but surely not in the home of someone with her father’s standing in the SS?
‘What will happen if you’re caught?’ she asked, wrapping her arms around herself. ‘I know you took that missing paper. I saw it with my own eyes.’
‘I won’t be caught.’
‘Butshouldyou be caught? For what you did?’ She regretted the words the moment they passed her lips, but he’d wanted the truth from her, for her to speak her mind, and that was what she wanted to know. The conflict building inside of her was very real, and she was struggling to reconcile what she’d seen with what she knew of her father and how he usually conducted himself. She was thinking about Lina and what had been contained in the Scholl file. ‘I’m keeping your secret to keep you safe, Papa. My friend is in terrible trouble because of what you did.’
‘Whether I should be caught or not depends on which side you are on,’ he said.
Her father began to walk, and she scurried to keep up with his longer stride. She worried that he was lost in anger, but when he abruptly stopped again and searched her eyes, there was no anger there that she could detect. But what had he meant when he talked of sides?
‘Ava, can I trust you?’ he asked. ‘Can I trust you to keep what I did between us? Can I trust that this conversation will remain private?’
Ava knew what he was asking her: he wanted to know whether her allegiance was to the party, or to her family. If it had beenanyone else, she wouldn’t have trusted them, would have thought the question a trick, but her papa was speaking plainly. He was asking her to be truthful with him, and she wished he knew her well enough not to ask at all. Because no matter her confusion over what she’d seen and what he was saying to her, her allegiance was not something that needed to be questioned. Not when it came to her family.
She glanced back at the house, her stomach in knots, before reaching for his hands and holding them in hers, looking earnestly into his eyes.
‘Of course you can trust me, Papa,’ she said, blinking away tears, hating that he’d even thought to doubt her intentions. ‘Of course you can. I would never betray you.’
‘Is there anything else you’d like to ask me, then?’
Ava went to open her mouth, but closed it, shaking her head instead. She wanted to ask him about Lina, but she knew she was being silly worrying so much about her. She’d done nothing wrong, so of course nothing terrible was going to happen to her, not over a misunderstanding.
The one thing she did wish she was brave enough to ask was why – the question was burning on the tip of her tongue. Why had he taken that paper? But for every part of her that did want to know, there was another that simply didn’t want the truth and all that came with it; because if she knew why, then she might find that she didn’t agree with what he’d done. And then she’d be in quite the predicament.
Ava hadn’t been lying, she did trust her father – he’d never given her reason not to trust him implicitly – and when he extended his arm to her she curled her hand around it and held on to him, dropping her head to his shoulder. In truth, her only concern was whether or not her father could get into trouble, and if he said therewould be no repercussions, then she would be satisfied with that. She had to be. She had to believe that whatever he’d done was for the right reasons.
