Page 31 of The Pianist's Wife
Amira pretended she hadn’t heard, realising just how much her every move was being scrutinised by these women, but when she glanced back at Gisele, she could see that she was just as tense as Amira was herself. Thankfully, someone called for quiet before anyone could speak again, and they were all ushered to their seats.
The performance lasted for close to an hour, and although Amira was in awe of her new husband’s talents, she found it almost impossible to concentrate on his music. She was so acutely aware of the people around her, of the whispers from the wives who were complicit in their husbands’ brutality but yet were so impossibly genteel in the company of others. She wondered if they truly knew the blood their families had on their hands, and whether some of them had even moved into homes that had once been the residences of Jewish families. And that was when the twinkle of adiamond caught her eye, and she imagined that even their jewellery might have once belonged to another, or perhaps their fur coats.
Her attention was diverted when the room erupted into applause and Fred stood, stepping out from behind the piano and bowing directly to Goebbels, who sat at front and centre, and then to the rest of the crowd gathered.
‘Bravo!’ Goebbels called, before waving the waiters back over with their trays of champagne and food.
‘You must be terribly proud of your husband,’ a woman said, and when Amira turned, she found that it was Magda Goebbels herself. Her eyes were bright with interest, and the way she smiled almost fooled Amira into thinking she was as genuine as she appeared.Almost.
‘I am,’ Amira said, lowering her glass of champagne. ‘There is nothing more beautiful than waking to the sound of him playing in the mornings.’ She promised herself she would rise the next morning to hear him play and sit beside him, instead of wallowing in bed and hoping that he’d warm to her.If I survive the evening.
‘Well, that sounds terribly romantic. Don’t you think so, Hilda?’
The woman she had called Hilda stepped closer to them, but she looked distracted. And that was when Amira overheard what the men were talking about.
‘It was nothing short of spectacular!’ one of the men boasted. ‘You had the crowd mesmerised. I say you need to do another like it.’
‘Joseph, they were certainly enraptured with you,’ another man said. ‘I agree. Keep the party and all the people rallied about what’s happening and do another.’
Amira knew what they were speaking of – Gisele had been in attendance at his last speech, but her friend had refused to tell her any more about it than Amira had already heard.
‘I... I wish I could have been there to hear your husband’s speech myself. You must be so proud,’ Amira found herself saying, trying not to stutter over her words.
‘How about we ladies go someone we can gossip, away from the men?’ Hilda said with a wicked grin.
Magda’s smile was more subtle. ‘That sounds like a wonderful idea.’
Amira looked around the room, suddenly wishing she’d eaten before they came and feeling like a sheep in a lion’s den. There was enough food being passed around to feed countless starving families; more champagne bottles being opened than she could comprehend, the wealth in the room palpable.
She held her sandwich between her fingers and tried not to squash it as her anger took hold again, hoping she didn’t look out of place. But she immediately wished they’d moved away as soon as Hilda had suggested it, when she heard what some of the other women were talking about.
‘Look, I know it’s not a pleasant conversation, but the faster they can get those Jews through the gas chambers—’
Amira coughed and dropped her sandwich, barely able to breathe, just as Joseph Goebbels himself walked past them to join his wife.
‘We’re here tonight to celebrate German music, my dears,’ Goebbels said, interrupting them as he passed. ‘It’s a rare evening that we all get to enjoy a man with Frederick’s talents, don’t you think?’
Amira looked up in horror as Fred appeared by her side, and her eyes locked on Goebbels, who was standing so close to her.
‘Amira, are you alright?’ Fred asked, putting his arm around her. ‘I dare say you ate too fast with all the excitement.’
‘I’m sorry, I just—’
‘I was the same when I was pregnant with my first child,’ Magda said, reaching out to pat her arm. ‘The sickness can strike when you least expect it, especially when alcohol and rich food are involved.’
‘My wife rarely drinks, so I think we can safely say that it’s a combination of the bubbles and...’ Fred paused, smiling at her and squeezing her shoulder. ‘Well, perhaps thereissome other news that we weren’t aware of, darling. Certainly that would be a blessing so early in our marriage.’
Amira nodded, bending to pick up what she’d dropped, before a waiter rushed over and assured her that he would clean up the mess.
Fred’s eyes met hers, as if pleading with her to go along with his story, and she mustered a smile. For a man of few words at home, he was suddenly doing an incredible job of being the doting husband.
‘I hope I haven’t ruined what has been a spectacular evening,’ Amira said. ‘I’ve been feeling unwell on and off all week, and certainly the champagne hasn’t helped.’
‘Imagine how beautiful their children will be,’ Gisele said, coming to stand beside her, her smile wide. ‘Fred, I shall look after your lovely wife so you can return to the men. Thank you for such a riveting performance. As always, I am in awe of your talents.’
All of the women nodded and murmured in agreement, and Amira took the chance to pull away from Gisele.
‘Please excuse me,’ she said, passing her glass to a waiter and asking him where she’d find the ladies’ room.
