Page 16 of The Pianist's Wife
‘The building he was staying in was bombed, and he was listed among the deceased.’
‘Bombed?’ she whispered.It can’t be. He was supposed to be coming home, he was only supposed to be gone until the end of the month.
‘Thank you for the information,’ Maxi said, his face impossible to read, whereas Amira was convinced hers was twisted in pain. ‘Will that be all?’
They continued to exchange some pleasantries with Maxi on the street, as she stood, her legs barely holding her up, threatening to collapse beneath her, her scream lodged in her throat as she listened to these men, toherman, making small talk as if they hadn’t just delivered the worst possible news to a person. Pain robbed her of her ability to move, to so much as turn or open her mouth.
‘Heil Hitler!’ they said to one another, and when she realised they’d all turned to her, she let out a weak ‘Heil Hitler’ herself, as tears began to streak down her cheeks.
Maxi held her weight and helped her through the door, supporting her up the stairs and into the apartment as she gasped on tears. Emotion gurgled in her throat while she tried to breathe past the hurt, past the fiercest of pains in her heart.
And when he closed and locked the door behind him, she sank straight to the floor before they had even reached the sofa, her legsbuckling when she saw her father’s half-empty bottle of whisky, his strong cologne still lingering in the room.
‘Maxi—’
‘Amira, I’m so sorry,’ he murmured. ‘Tell me what to do. Should I take you back to Gisele?’
She shook her head, her body numb, relieved that she was still alive but devastated to have lost her darling father. All she wanted to do was cling to Maxi for as long as she could.
‘He can’t be gone,’ she cried. ‘He can’t. Maxi, he can’t.’
Maxi wrapped her in his arms, his lips to her hair, his hands flat to her back. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I’m so sorry, Amira.’
‘He was supposed to be home before the end of the month. He wasn’t supposed to be in danger.’
Her breath was hiccupping out of her now, making it almost impossible to fill her lungs. But Maxi gently touched her chin and lifted her face, his eyes swimming with tears of his own.
She leaned into him, her face nestled into his neck, breathing in the scent of him, knowing that come morning, she’d have lost both him and her father. Even if Maxi made it back from the war, for the foreseeable future she’d be all alone, living in a city that hated her, with no one to hide behind.
They sat there on the floor, entwined in each other’s arms, the only sound the clock ticking on the wall, as the minutes turned into hours, and night slowly became morning. Breathing, holding each other, absorbing the feeling of cradling the other in the knowledge that it would soon be over and they might never, ever be together again. He had to leave, and there was nothing either of them could do about it.
‘What will I do? Without my father?’ she eventually whispered. ‘I don’t even know if I’ll be able to stay in this apartment.’
‘We will marry, the moment I return home,’ he said, holding her tightly. ‘We should have eloped when we had the chance, or Ishould have defied your request and demanded to meet him while he was still alive.’
She nodded against him. If only it were all so simple – that she was marrying for love without fear of what might happen. If only she didn’t have to imagine her darling Maxi finding out the truth and turning her in, or being discovered when her papers were examined.
‘You will marry me when I return, won’t you?’ he asked. ‘Once all this is over?’
‘Of course I will,’ she replied. ‘Nothing would make me happier than to be your wife.’ Four years they’d known each other, and she’d have married him in months if the choice had been hers. Without her father, risking marriage might be her only option.
‘Then we will find a way to marry as soon as we can,’ he eventually whispered back. ‘I love you, Amira, with all my heart. I promise that I’ll look after you.’
But when he reached out to touch her cheek, it was slick with tears. Because no matter what he said, no matter how he felt, neither of them had any idea whether he’d be home in weeks, months, or even years.
The truth is that there is no one left to keep me safe in Berlin.Nothing Maxi could say could soothe her because, come daybreak, she’d be alone.
Chapter Seven
Seven Months Later
‘Amira,’ Gisele said, propped up in bed with her fourth child – another son – in her arms. Her cheeks were pink, as if an artist had come along and stained the centres. She looked almost angelic sitting there with her blonde hair curling around her face. ‘I’m worried about you. You’ve lost so much weight.’
Amira didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t going to lie to her and say everything was fine, because it wasn’t. Maxi had been gone for seven months now, and she was fast running out of money to support herself. Her father had had money hidden away in their safe for an emergency that she was now using, but she doubted even he had imagined she would be left to fend for herself indefinitely.
Ever since her father had died, she’d been a nervous wreck; it was affecting her in every way possible, especially now that she’d received a notice to vacate their apartment. It was needed for a family and it seemed that, despite her father’s loyalty and dedication to the party and his job, they weren’t concerned about where his daughter would live. And she wasn’t brave enough, or stupid enough, to ask questions and face the scrutiny that might come along with it.
‘Amira? I’m worried about you. I know you must be terribly anxious about Maxi, and after your father—’
