Page 15 of The Pianist's Wife
They’d had dinner early to ensure they would be home well before dark – the blackouts made it impossible to navigate the city at night unless the moon was particularly bright. But when theyrounded the corner, her arm wrapped around Maxi’s middle as he rubbed her arm to keep her warm, she wished it was dark.
Her heart stuttered in her chest, and her mouth went dry.
There were two Gestapo men outside her apartment block. She could hear the thud of their thick-soled boots, saw the long black trench coats, the distinctive red, black and white swastika on their arms. If ever there were a more terrifying sight, she couldn’t think of one.
‘Maxi,’ she whispered, stopping in her tracks.
He kept hold of her, his arm around her waist as he looked down at her.
‘What’s—’
‘Maxi, we need to turn around,’ she said.
She tried to stop again, panic rising inside of her, but he kept walking.
They’ve come for me. Maxi, don’t you see that they’ve come for me?
‘You’re worried about the Gestapo men?’ he asked. ‘I’m fairly certain they’re not here to see you. Come on, it’s cold out here.’
He kept pushing her to propel her forward, her toes catching on the pavement as he forced her to move.
‘Amira, what are you doing? Come on.’
‘I can’t.’ Her voice was barely a whisper, torn between telling him the truth in that moment so he’d understand, or simply running. ‘Maxi, I can’t.’
‘I’m not sure what you’re afraid of, but they’re in uniform,’ he said. ‘There’s a reason they’re not in plain clothes. If you’re afraid of seeing them rounding up Jews...’
Her heart was pounding now, her hands sweaty as she fought not to ball them into fists, a line of moisture even breaking out across her top lip. There was only one reason the Gestapo came into neighbourhoods like theirs, and it was to hunt out the last of the remaining Jews.
‘Is that why you’re so afraid?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t like seeing them.’
Maxi began to walk more stiffly beside her, letting go of her only as they approached the two men, who were now staring at her. She tried to steady herself, tried to hold her head high and keep her shoulders straight, as if it weren’t a terrible surprise to find them waiting. Her breath rasped in and out and she tried to level it.
‘Heil Hitler!’ Maxi said, saluting the two men and waiting for them to do the same.
‘Heil Hitler,’ Amira murmured, finding the words almost impossible to say but realising that the two men were barely even glancing at her now, their attention directed at Maxi. She hoped they weren’t about to ask for their papers, for it would be the first time hers had been properly scrutinised. A curl of sweat left her upper lip and fell to her mouth, her tongue darting out to catch the salty moisture.
‘Oberstleutnant Richter,’ Maxi said, introducing himself and nodding to the two men, who both appeared to be glancing at the lapel of his grey field jacket, which bore his insignia. ‘Can I help you? Is there someone you’re looking for in this apartment block?’
‘We’re looking for the family of SS Standartenführer Schäfer.’
Amira gasped, and Maxi gave her a quick glance, as did the Gestapo men.
‘GünthaSchäfer?’ she asked, her eyes widening as one of the men nodded. ‘You’re looking for the family of Güntha Schäfer?’
‘He is—’ the man started.
‘My father. Güntha is my father,’ Amira said, as her heart began to race all over again.
‘Then please accept our condolences,’ the same man said. ‘We regret to inform you that SS Standartenführer Schäfer was killed serving the Reich. He has made the ultimate sacrifice for our mighty Führer.’
‘Killed?’ Amira gasped. ‘But he was only sent to study documents at Sachsenhausen. How could be possibly have been killed? How...’
Maxi took hold of her arm and shook his head to silence her, to remind her of the men she was questioning.
‘I apologise. Women can be very emotional receiving such news, as I’m sure you well know, but I would like to thank you on behalf of the family for making a house call to inform them.’ Maxi glanced at Amira, as if to tell her that he knew what he was doing. ‘May I enquire how such a respected party member was killed?’
